Note: dialogue taken from the episode "The I of the Storm"

July 1989, Harlan

Helen was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard the knock. She yelled for him to come in. Raylan walked in looking curious.

"You said you wanted to talk to me?"

"Sit down" she ordered. He followed. She shoved an envelope in front of him. Some of it was Boyd's and some of it was from her.

"Three thousand dollars in that envelope, you're going to enroll yourself in college. When the semester starts you're going to drive up to the city and you're going to stay there."

"Helen, I can't-" he started.

"Yes, you will."

August 2010, Harlan

Raylan found Boyd at Audrey's. He talked business first.

"Is it just me or does the presence of a US Marshal make these folks uneasy."

"Well, maybe it's just your hat." Boyd said dryly, looking unhappy to see him. Boyd wasn't very forthcoming. Raylan was about to leave, not getting the information he was looking for. There was no one around so he switched to more personal topics.

"I ran into Eleanor a few months back." Raylan said. Boyd feigned nonchalance but he knew he was listening. "Her kids at UK she wants to get into the pharmacy school. This is the girl, Emily; real smart kid it seems, asks a lot of questions."

"Raylan, I am trying to have a drink in peace." Boyd said, knowing they shouldn't talk about this here.

"Okay fine, call me if you think of anything to tell me." Raylan pulled out one of his cards and slid it over to Boyd before leaving. He heard him tear it up, a show for the other patrons. It didn't matter, Boyd already knew his number. He drove back to the office. He got a call the next day, around the same time.

"What does she ask questions about?" Boyd asked. He spoke slowly as if he was exhausted.

"Hold on" Raylan said before moving away from his desk and towards the locker room.

"Raylan, where are you going?" Art came out of his office. "You know we have work to do" Art sounded exasperated, as usual.

"Art, I just have to take this call." Raylan darted into the locker room missing his boss's eye roll.

"Okay I'm back. Since they're going to college El mentioned that you had set up a college fund, which meant that she knew who their father was and the girl asked questions."

"Now how did you learn about all this Raylan?" Boyd sounded suspicious.

"They look like you; I put two and two together. I gave Eleanor my number and then Emily must have gotten the number because she called me a couple days ago."

"What for?"

"She was at college party and she felt uncomfortable and her ride was drunk and she doesn't know anyone and Lexington yet."

"So she called you?"

"I got her home safely and everything."

"How is she?"

"She asks questions Boyd, Eleanor finally had to say something and she said you were a murderer to stop the line of questioning." Raylan told him. He was quiet after that.

"I suppose that's for the best."

"I told her it was more complicated than that. That you were a good man that loved her mother and was forced to do bad things."

"Thank you for saying that Raylan" Boyd whispered.

"The look on her face, when she told me that, I had to say something." he admitted.

"Raylan, I know we no longer see eye to eye but, I'm going to ask you for a favor. Don't tell anyone in law enforcement about this. They will put it on a file somewhere and someone will use those kids against me. The law will drag them through the mud and the lawless would hurt them to get to me. I know you want me in jail and I would do anything for those kids but, nothing good will come from this revelation."

"I know that's why I'm not going to say anything."

"Thank you"

"I can give you Eleanor's number if you want?" Raylan offered.

"No, it's best I don't have it. Thank you for telling me about this. Goodbye Raylan" Boyd hung up. Art poked his head in as Raylan slipped the phone in his pocket.

"You don't have cancer do you?" he asked.

"No" Raylan said, if he waited long enough Art would usually explain his own jokes.

"Unless your doctor called to tell you that you're dying, I want you to finish the paperwork on the Ramirez case."

"How could I forget Art, you keep reminding me every twenty minutes."

"You have the attention span of a small child. Tell you what. You get the paperwork on my desk by this afternoon; I will get you a cookie."

"I want ice cream" Raylan called after his boss. Art gave him the middle finger salute in response. He couldn't tell his coworkers that he was talking to Boyd Crowder. There just wasn't an adequate way to describe their complex relationship. Sure, he had shot him, which he kind of regretted but, Boyd had pulled his ass out of the fire many times before.

April 1986, Harlan

Things change, Raylan knew this. He didn't like it though. Boyd had stopped eating lunch at their table. This might not seem all that important; it may sound like Raylan was acting like a girl, upset because his best friend didn't talk to him. He wasn't trying to be dramatic or anything. It meant that Boyd was starting to become that guy that everyone had always assumed he was. Eleanor noticed it too; they shared worried looks all through class. That summer they would stop going to the lake as well, it wasn't the same with just the two of them

"It was for the best sweetie, you'll make new friends" his mother told him as she was rolling out dough.

"I guess so" he answered after a long pause. He stared out the open kitchen window. Arlo was gone, making the house seem warmer. It didn't help the curl of dread settling itself into his gut. He wasn't dumb; he knew what was going on. Boyd didn't talk about it but, he came to school looking like he had been up all night. He knew he was working for his father. Boyd was getting sucked into that darkness that Harlan had to offer. He was slowly cutting himself off from his friends and hanging out with the rough crowd. Raylan hated to watch it. Neither of them could do anything to stop it.

"Raylan" Francis called his name to get his attention, "can you go down to the store and get some sugar and bread?"

"Sure" he grabbed his car keys and went out to the truck. His mother wanted to bake a pie; he couldn't remember the last time she had done that. He roamed around the store before finally finding the sugar and then went to look for bread, in the grocery aisle he ran into Boyd, pulling a loaf of bread off the shelves.

"Don't you have people to do that for you?" Raylan teased. Boyd smiled as though he found the insult genuinely amusing.

"I left the groceries to Bowman a few times to see if he would accept the responsibility. It backfired each time."

"How so?"

"Bowman simply went to eat dinner with friends or his football coach. Bo rarely eats at home anyway so the joke was on me." Boyd had a wry smile as though going hungry was amusing.

"So he's not grateful you took care of him all these years." Raylan was trying to remember how old Bowman was; thirteen was surely too young to develop such an attitude.

"Bowman has a sense of entitlement he inherited from my father."

"You're welcome to come over for dinner anytime." He offered before he could think about it too much.

"Thank you Raylan but, I can't imagine what your folk's reaction would be."

"Well, my offer stands"

"Thank you, I still consider you a friend as well." Boyd had the uncanny ability to always know what he was thinking. They parted ways. After a while he got used to Boyd being gone, and it was just him and Eleanor.

When he got back home he found Arlo at the kitchen, bottle of Jim Beam in front of him. He had been down at the bar getting hammered. It was truly miraculous he hadn't driven off the road at this point. His mom was gone, the pie dough left on the counter. Raylan was so tired of this song and dance. He could feel the fury building inside. He marched over to the table and grabbed the bottle of bourbon out of Arlo's hands.

"Hey! I was drinking that" he slurred.

"Go upstairs and lay down"

"You should show me some respect boy" he sneered.

"Well, when you do something worthy of my respect, I'll take notice" Raylan turned to put the bottle in the cabinet. Arlo darted out of his chair, amazingly agile for such a drunken man, and grabbed a knife from the drawer.

"Arlo" Raylan said slowly, putting his hands up in surrender. Arlo lunged, swinging the knife like a madman. Raylan twisted out of the way, caught Arlo's arm and slammed his hand against the refrigerator. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter. Raylan picked it up before Arlo moved.

"I'm sorry" Arlo whispered.

"Go upstairs Arlo" Raylan asked. The man went, all the crazy gone. Raylan returned the knife and grabbed the keys again. He didn't want to stay here. He started driving; he didn't really have a destination. Helen was out of town, up in Louisville. He had a spare key to her place but, it was back at the house and he didn't want to go back there. He ended up at Boyd's. He knocked on the front door, hoping that Bo wasn't there. Boyd answered the door

"Raylan what happened?" Boyd seemed alarmed and quickly ushered him inside.

"Is your daddy here?" he had to ask.

"He's out of town and Bowman's at his coaches house for dinner again." Boyd led him into the bathroom.

"What are you doing?" Raylan didn't need to go to the bathroom.

"Jesus Christ, Raylan, you're bleeding all over my floor." Boyd shoved him down on the toilet. Raylan looked down at himself in confusion. The side of his shirt was sticking to his skin, red with blood. He hadn't noticed it before. Boyd disappeared for a moment and returned with alcohol and a towel.

"Raylan, can you take off your shirt?" Boyd asked while he pulled a few boxes out from the cabinet underneath the sink. There was a moment of confusion where Raylan had no idea how to take off his shirt. Then he started to move his arm and finally felt the pain. "Okay, I'll just cut it off, try not to move okay." He said in a reassuring voice. Boyd opened the boxes and pulled out a pair of scissors and cut off Raylan's shirt and used the towel to mop up excess blood.

"Raylan you want to tell me what happened?"

"Arlo"

"Arlo tried to kill you?"

"I don't think he ever intends to do anything, he just does it."

"I think you're going to need stitches."

"It's fine, just a scratch" Raylan protested.

"Your judgment is impaired as you are suffering from blood loss."

"I am not." He said stubbornly.

"Just drink this" Boyd poured him a shot from the bottle. It burned on the way down. Raylan watched with morbid fascination as Boyd cleaned the wound with alcohol and prepared a needle. Raylan must have blacked out a little because when he looked back Boyd was stitching up his side as if he had done this many times before. He took another drink as Boyd finished and taped a bandage over it.

"You ever thought of being a doctor?" Raylan asked.

"If I start thinking like that I usually turn towards teaching." Boyd said, washing his hands and putting everything away.

"Teaching?"

"Teaching literature, maybe at a college" Boyd gathered up the bloody materials and took them somewhere. Raylan stayed sitting on the toilet until he came back. When he did it was with an extra shirt. Boyd led him to his bedroom and left him with the instructions to sleep.

September 2010, Lexington

Emily was walking to the Kroger just outside of campus. Her roommate had a car but refused to drive her anywhere. They didn't get along. She was tired of not having any food in the dorm. It was a chilly night and she wrapped her coat tightly around her. A dark green sedan pulled up at the curb. She walked just a little faster.

"Excuse me!" the driver called. She turned around and looked at the man. There wasn't anyone else around so he was definitely talking to her. "I'm afraid I'm lost, can you help me?"

"I'm new here, so I can't really help you sorry." She smiled politely and kept walking. She heard someone behind her, she started to run. Someone grabbed her hair, yanking her back and pressed a cloth around her nose and mouth. They continued to drag her backwards as she struggled, trying not to breath and attempting to twist out of his grasp. They opened the backseat of the car, and that was the last thing she remembered.