Discovering through Boyd months ago that Ava was in prison couldn’t have surprised him less. He told her so. That had been the extent of his internal reaction, aside from idle amusement over how easy it could have been remedied, though he knew that wouldn’t happen. Boyd loved her, not even Raylan couldn’t dispute this, but to forfeit his treasured freedom that he strove so hard to attain for Ava’s — ? In the marshal’s mind, if it was going to be done, a different Crowder would be in that cage by now.
He pondered on it en route to the institution, as well as the reason why he of all people was contacted by her lawyer earlier that morning to come in whenever available. His relationship with Ava wasn’t what it used to be ; all things considered, it also could have been worse. Regardless, that didn’t explain why she would go through the trouble to get a hold of him ( or why he was bothering with this visit at all. ) What about her fiancé — ?
Pulling into the parking lot, Raylan prolonged getting out his car for a few seconds. This wasn’t what he had in mind to do on his vacation time, much less after shortly returning from out of state with Deanna. With an incoherent mutter, he ducked out of the car, secured the locks, and then started across the way. The time last he stepped foot in a prison was a nettlesome memory weighing in the back of his mind.
It was directions on a script too familiar to him. Once the appropriate room was entered, the guard left to fetch Ava, leaving Raylan — the only source of color in the otherwise colorless and dismal setting — alone. Elbows propped atop of the table’s smoothed trim, the unbuttoned sleeves of his plaid shirt fell away from his wrist as he absently twisted his ring.
The day that backstabbing whore came preaching to Audrey’s about repentance and god there was a change in Ava. Walls were built; she knew what needed to be done, only things hadn’t gone according to plan thanks to an incompetent, junkie, ex-veteran. Doomed from the moment Ellen May returned to them alive, intuitions caveat sent her into panic and spiraled her into a state of paranoia, which ultimately landed her behind bars. Foresight envisioned gray walls and cell blocks from miles away, but neuroticism overpowered all rhyme and reason. Instead of taking up Jimmy’s offer to help with the body, or coaxing both Johnny and Jimmy into doing it for her, she just had to go at it alone and fall into such an unfortunate predicament. The blonde haired, sapphire eyed, Southern Belle was cognizant there was no one to blame other than herself.
“—Ava Crowder,” guard’s voice interrupted hues skimming over the works of Faulkner. There was nothing to do in this place other than endure listening to the other inmates gossip, bicker, or sleep. She decided indulging in none of the above, and instead spent her free time reading. Chin lifted in acknowledgement and security informed, “you’ve got a visitor. Get up, let’s go.” One by one, Ava could feel the heavy weight of one hundred pairs of eyes on her. She knew what they were wondering. Was it him? Was the dragon finally going to slither its way through the cracks and into the dungeon to set their demons free? The answer was no. This conjuncture wasn’t what they hoped. They would not receive relief for their ailments, but she would let them hold onto the idea. Anything to keep them from gutting her like a fish or slitting her throat wide open. The initial welcome beating would look like a mere friendly wave in comparison to whatever they might have in store if she failed to deliver.
Springing from top bunk, rough fingers wrapped around bicep and guided her through various corridors. Ceasing steps in front of visitation room entrance, ceruleans peered through blurred glass window able only to make out the brilliant colors of the Marshal’s plaid shirt. Heavy hinges swung open and convict stepped through threshold, officer remaining outside the confined room. Eyes honed in on Raylan seated at the table. She could already read his expression. The lawman was irritated and she could only imagine the annoyance would incline from there. It was good to see a familiar face, none the less. Smile curling corners of bruised lips, she approached metal chair and took her seat across from him, limbs falling loose over thighs.
“Raylan,” she finally mustered, coy grin etching over features. “You came.” Hints of surprise undoubtedly encompassed her observation. She honestly didn’t expect him to show. “How are you?” The least she could do was show some courtesy before getting down to business and a part of her did care. Despite their differences, law versus outlaw, there would always be a special alcove for him in her heart. Maybe not in the sense he had before he two timed her, but he remained a good friend when he wasn’t he threatening to arrest her or her fiance. “– And Deanna? You treatin’ her good?”
athisbestarchive reblogged this from ofcriminalgrace and added: She looked different. That was expected, but it didn’t lessen his fleeting surprise. Raylan had seen plenty of people...
ofcriminalgrace reblogged this from athisbestarchive and added: The day that backstabbing whore came preaching to Audrey’s about repentance and god there was a change in Ava. Walls...
