onlyhearmusic | [the last voyages] ic inbox

If that's how you'd like it. I'll be seein' ya.

[Raylan wasn't a man that dawdled, and with Collins reliably marked on his Blackberry phone, 'hunt' was probably a strong word. Almost wasn't fair, really. The fun was in a good cat and mouse chase, but Raylan didn't plan on breaking down any doors. Where ever Collins is, he'll show up, even if that means leaning out on the wall in front of the man's cabin.

Raylan was tall at 6'1 but not wildly so, lean frame most always found in bluejeans, wingtip cowboy boots with a cream businessman's Stetson to match, and today, it was a simple tshirt under an open flannel, rolled up to his elbows. On his hip lived a well used, full, holster, leather oiled and shiny with its years of use.

Nothing but time.]

[Seeing as how the Flood only ended yesterday, Collins wasn't in the mood to go out and deal with people. Givens was going to have a long wait if all he did was lurk in the hallway outside the Butcher's room. The assassin wasn't going anywhere.]

[He'd wait for bodily functions or hunger to bring Collins out; stake outs took time. 'Long' was relative and Raylan had plenty of experience finding a place to put himself and blending casually into his environment, like folks who seemed to be waiting in the DMV forever.]

[Raylan would be waiting till the next day, at best. The only thing Collins lacked was food in his room.

So it wasn't until the next evening that Raylan would catch sight of the killer leaving his room. He barely spared Givens a glance. Oh, he knew. He recognized the type immediately. The most Givens gave him, however, was a few pleasant memories of how he'd killed coppers like the man before. They got in his way, they payed the price. Same as anyone else.

The memories put a devilish smile on his face. He kept walking.]

[Technical risks were taken over the hours; he had no intention of being uncomfortable himself, food and a couple of bathroom breaks were allowed. As for sleep, well, he could doze lightly if he absolutely had to. Staying up for several days was something he could manage.

So when Collins finally comes out of his cabin, Raylan doesn't move until Collins starts heading down the hall, knowing full well he wouldn't reach the man quickly without running and god wasn't that a pathetic look. But he did have a rather long step, even with his casual amble that sped up when the man was out of view and Collins was shorter - He'd catch up with the man eventually, get to a place where he could shortcut in front of him, or annoy him so much that he's acknowledged and Collins stops for a chat.

Wouldn't be the first or last time, for any of the three options.]

[He had an escort for a week after the murders. One more shadow wasn't going to bother him. Plus, he was stupidly stubborn when he wanted to be and extremely persistent when it came to ignoring people that he looked down upon.

Collins went for food. If there were any finger foods, he'd grab and go. Sitting down to eat in the ship's cafeteria wasn't nearly as fun as eating at a mom-and-pop diner.

Raylan would have to stop him if he wanted to talk, much less have Collins acknowledge him, anywhere along the way.]

[He had no problem stopping the man, you go in a place that only has one way out, it's prime standing real estate.]

I'm not here to make shit worse for you, if that's what you're worried about.

[If Collins still tries to move around him, Raylan'll let him but fall into stride with him.]

I understand you're in somethin' of a rough spot.

[Normally Collins would bully his way past but he's too tired for that right now and he's not even certain if that would count as too aggressive on his part or not. Then again... swinging a punch would make him a "ghost" and then he could just walk right past the man...

He kept that idea on the backburner. He hated to flee, but the thought he could use the Admiral's safety precautions for his own advantage amused him.]

You are tha bane of me existence whether ya realize it or not, flattie. What do ya want then? Impose a curfew? Make me talk ta somebody regularly? Shadow me all tha damn way 'round the boat?

[He deliberately ignored the 'rough spot' comment. He looked it though.]

No, no and no, preferably.

[Since Collins didn't push past, it cost Raylan nothing to step out of the way and gesture for Collins to walk on so he can fall into stride anyway. He disliked talking about this stuff in the eye of the General Public, for the sake of everyone. Business wasn't meant to be spread.]

I want to talk to you about your situation and what you should be expectin' to see of me over this month we're assigned to each other. I ain't got no problem bein' the bane of your existence; won't be the first or last time for me bein' in that position. But you deserve a fair shot at understandin' how I'd like to see things go regardless.

You got a preference on where we start?

Of course ya have been, yer a copper. It's yer fuckin' job ta be.

[As they always are. If he had the capacity for it, he would draw the man's own gun and shoot him with it. That's what happened to the last two coppers that tried to stop him. They weren't amongst the living anymore.

Collins's eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare and then with a huff he began walking again.]

No, I told ya already: I don't care about anything ya have ta say.

Federal actually, though I'm used to people thinkin' they're the same thing.

[Collins was kept on Raylan's left, the side away from his gun, a lifetime of habit setting the Marshal up for the possibility of his gun getting grabbed. It wouldn't happen, of course, and attempts were a good way to get dead.

He continues, unperturbed:]

Since you don't have a preference, let's start with what you and Ulla. And what you ain't got anymore. You not care about that?

Yer all tha same.

[Local or federal didn't matter to him. They were all a pain in the ass when they got in the way. He'd hunted all across the eastern coast and no matter where he went the lawmen always were one of two things: smart enough to leave him alone, or dead for getting in his way.

It didn't matter now. Nothing did.

As soon as Givens mentioned Ulla, Collins's jaw clenched in anger. Oh, despite his devil-may-care attitude, that one certainly hit a nerve. He cared about that.]

It don't fuckin' matter. Tha witch is tha same as tha rest of ya.

Point in case.

[The clenched jaw wasn't missed, though Raylan doesn't react to it at all.]

Somehow I doubt that it doesn't matter. Otherwise you wouldn't've had it out with her over her liftin' it.

You wanna elaborate what the rest of us are?

[Collins's eyes flicked over towards Givens for a second and back to where he was going again.]

No, I don't.

[He was done repeating himself to all the wardens. It didn't make a difference, and it never would because that was the whole point of being a prisoner.]

Mm.

So you'd rather suffer for the hellva it to prove how unreasonable and cruel we are? Don't make a lot of sense, to me.

[Collins shook his head.]

No, but ya do like ta make assumptions, tha lot of ya.

[He kept walking without elaborating for a moment, but before Givens could speak again the killer took a sharp breath and spoke again.]

I ain't goin' ta change. [He stopped walking and looked Givens dead in the eye.] I'm not here for redemption. I'm not here for changin'. I am here for one reason: an asshole brought me here, and now you all have ta deal with it.

[Raylan stops with him, looking over with an attentive, if not very indicative of any particular feeling, expression.]

And right now, I ain't here to argue that point of view with you. We've got a month; I don't expect to be makin' you change your mind about that. What I do hope to do, is get you and your situation to a better level ground. There's already enough hell to be passed around, with the floods and the breaches.

No. You don't.

[He turned roughly and began to stalk away, headed for the stairs to get to another level. Any other level.]

Ya say ya do, but the truth is ya want me ta sit, heel, lay down like a good dog and that ain't happenin'.

[Raylan longsteps after him, catching up easily.]

That's just what you've convinced yourself that anyone with authority wants. Likely because that's the only kinda authority you might've seen and my opinions on the quality of that authority aside, this ain't the big house, this ain't Sing-Sing or Alcatraz - [Insert your favorite state prison here.] and the Admiral doesn't pull in suckers for the rest of us to piss on to feel better about ourselves.

That is what they want, because that's tha only way ta deal with people that don't conform ta their society. Ya do as yer told, ya do what everyone else does, or ya don't do any of it at all.

[He paused on the stairs to glance at Givens again.]

Do ya know who I am?

[Raylan stops, left hand on the railing and looks at Collins from under the brim of his hat, eyebrows raised slightly over an unimpressed face.]

I know what you are. Murderer, unrepentant, kill for the thrill of it, or so I've heard, and part of a string of brutal crimes in the same place that Arthur Lester comes from. [He'd seen plenty of that kind of man. Plenty of ugly, plenty of blood, plenty of 'for the hell of it' evil. Collins wasn't standing above a crowd of any type.]

Who you are? I don't think we can get to that inside a month and philosophy ain't exactly my strong suit.

[He smiled at the description. He didn't want to be above any of that. That was exactly who he was. And that was all that mattered.]

Right ya are. I'm the Butcher. [He started walking again.] And that's that.

No. You're a butcher. And right now, an ineffective one. Which, by the way, ain't really on the option for negotiation.

[He didn't feel the need to toot his own horn in return.]

Now that we've sorted that out, would you mind if we got back to the business of the day?

Not where I came from, bull. People know who I am. It's the Butcher.

[He snorted.]

Ya got as long as it takes ta get back ta me room.

[Which was one floor away and seeing as they were just about down with the stairs... not much longer. Unless Givens wanted to play hard ball.]

You're not where you're from. Here, you're just Dennis Collins, one strike away from bein' a ghost. You wanna suffer for the hellva it, I won't stop you but at this point it is fully your choice.

[Once they're out of the stairwell, it's easy to stay at his side and Raylan's got no problem getting ahead the one stride needed to block Collins's door.]

We'll be doin' face to face check ins daily. Give me that and I'll otherwise try to stay outta your hair, bad behavior aside. I know you don't care about this shit and that's fine, but that doesn't mean we're not gonna work it. You say no, we'll do this little run around each time for the whole month.

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