A/N: Written with LaurieM because, well, we share some thoughts on Dickie Bennett. If you haven't read our previous story, 'Stuck in the Middle' you might want to check it out before reading this.
"I caught him, with an unseen hook and an invisible line which is long enough to let him wander to the ends of the world, and still to bring him back with a twitch upon the thread."
G.K. Chesterton
Saturday Night
"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy."
The voice comes slow, thoughtful, as though they're in the middle of a conversation where this makes perfect sense.
"What?"
Boyd's eyes flick away from the window. "It's F. Scott Fitzgerald. Remind me to buy you some books for your next birthday - they might make a nice change for you from Sports Illustrated."
Raylan shifts position, levering himself up on one elbow to get a better vantage point. Splinters prickle through his jacket and shirt, the floor a mess of scraped dirt and weathered wood. "I buy that for the articles." He stares into the darkest part of the shadows, trying to make out movement.
"They still out there?" Boyd asks.
He snorts. "What do you think?"