In dreams you're mine; all of the time we're together.

[the_marshal]

Who| Wyatt and Open
What| Wallowing
Where| The Speakeasy
When| Shortly after this.
Notes/Warnings| Manly, manly whinging. Possible purple prose. Lots and lots of drinking. It's open to anyone, but he won't open up to anyone he wouldn't call a friend.



He should have stayed. Should have had courage enough to wait and meet Max and free him himself.... It would have meant more. It was the right thing to do. But just thinking the words had his throat closing up, tightening around a painful lump that refused to loosen.

So instead, he ran. Like a coward. Leaving Max to realize the truth for himself.

There was no obligation.

He didn't owe Wyatt anything.

It was still early when Wyatt arrived at the Speakeasy. The bar was nearly empty and Wyatt had his choice of seats. He went as far back as he could, as close to the liquor as he could.

He was still there when the night crowd began to filter in.

Comments

[the_marshal]

There was a pause, an awkward beat where Wyatt seemed to be considering it, then his shoulders rolled.

"Used to be a free country," he muttered. "Help yerself."

He wanted to snap and snarl - he wanted to fight, if only to feel anything other than the pit in his chest, but he knew it wasn't fair to take it out on Don.

[polyturtle]

"Thank you."

Quietly, Don sat himself down next to Wyatt, hands folded quietly. Without batting an eye he ordered a drink.

"So--" No, no, that would be a dumb question. How have you been. The answer would be obvious. Don adjusted his question accordingly. "--what's your poison today?"

[the_marshal]

Wyatt looked over at him, a long, weighted stare.

It was the knowledge that Don wasn't trying to upset him that curbed his tongue.

"Whiskey ain't never done me wrong, so I ain't got any reason to go changin'."

[polyturtle]

"Yeah." He looked down at his own drink as he spoke. "Makes sense."

What could he say to Wyatt? What can he say to ease whatever tension Wyatt was feeling, for whatever reason? He didn't know.

After some time, he finally spoke again.

"So...what brings you here?"

[the_marshal]

"What brings any man to a bar, son?" Wyatt muttered, glass tipping back, ice clinking noisily. "Unless yer here 'cause it's sunshine an' rainbows out there."