Disclaimer: Justified ain't mine. Neither is Raylan, dammit.
A/N: This was written for norgbelulah's Summer In Harlan fic meme at LiveJournal.
Graveside
He catches sight of her as he pulls the car up the long drive, her head bent, blond hair hanging over her face. He hadn't expected anyone to be here. He came because he knows Arlo isn't here. He went on a bender and he's sleeping it off in the Harlan County Jail. He can stay there forever, for all Raylan cares.
Ava turns, hearing the car approach. Her back straightens and her chin goes up when she sees it's him.
He feels a little silly now, carrying the flowers. She's already put some there, obviously picked from around the house and assembled in a haphazard bouquet. Helen likely would have appreciated that more than the store-bought blooms he carries, but the motel doesn't exactly have a garden and coming empty-handed seemed disrespectful.
"Mornin' Raylan."
"Ava." He still limps a bit as he walks up the slope to the graves.
"Good to see you up and about." She says.
"You, too." She holds one arm close to her side, but other than that, there's no indication of her injury.
"Thought I ought to do somehin'." She indicates the flowers. "Seein' as we got shot by the same man and all. I thought about her a lot, the past few weeks." She cocks her head at him, an unasked question in her eyes: Why is he here?
"Winona's pregnant." He'd come here to tell Helen, but he ends up telling Ava instead. He supposes Helen can hear too, wherever she is, if that's the way it is. He really has no idea.
"Well, ain't that somethin'." Ava nods. "You all gettin' married again?"
Raylan shrugs. Truth is, he hasn't asked. Yet. "Maybe."
"We all make our choices, don't we, Raylan?" She meets his eyes, and what he sees there isn't the regret or resignation he expects, but steely determination.
"Yes, I guess we do." He crouches and places his flowers next to Ava's, running his fingers over Helen's name etched in the stone. "I hope you're happy with yours."
"I hope you're happy, too." She says.
He leaves her there, and when he looks in the rearview mirror as he drives away in a cloud of Harlan dust, she's still standing there beside the grave, the breeze in her hair, her face turned up to the sun.
~fin~