Sundays were a bore, especially when it was getting close to the end of a shift. Billy Raven let out a soft sigh as he stared blankly at his computer's screen. There was nothing of importance on it, but just in case the Sheriff walked by, he could pretend to focus on work. Every Sunday turned out this way, honestly. After the passing years, he thought he would be used to it by now. Nope. Still boring. It was as though the community had collectively agreed to not cause trouble on Sundays. Billy supposed this routinely dragging shift was better than the alternative, which could still be every shift being a bore.
A year ago, things had abruptly changed. Suddenly, the entire Sheriff's department had been told to move from the CADI. Sure, at the time, they had received a few new hires, but everything had been packed up to move into a bigger space. Afterwards, because of that relocation, other people had applied to become deputies. It had made sense. More space, more positions to fill. The Sheriff's department had become a real police station—smack-dab in the middle of a much larger downtown. There were now over fifty people employed at the station. Compared to other cities, those were still low numbers, but the staff had grown exponentially with the growth of Banshee. They had a K-9 unit, an IT department, and forensics. No more seeking outside help to solve crime. The Sheriff's department was in a bigger league now.
Good thing, too. Crime had increased as well with the expansion. Just recently, they had ended a serial killer's rampage. A serial killer—in Banshee. Billy never thought the day would come, but it had, and the Sheriff had wiped him, and his band of followers, out before a third body could show up. Satanists, the lot of them. Even now, Billy was still uncomfortable thinking about those ritualistic killings. Still, the psycho had been dealt with and Banshee could sleep peacefully. Other crimes were petty things, but it succeeded in keeping the station busy… except on Sundays.
Around the same time as the relocation, Billy had been offered the position of Chief of the Kinaho Police Department. He had considered it for several days before ultimately turning it down. It would have been an opportunity to change things on the reservation. Get rid of the corruption. Make peace amongst the tribe. Get things done. But… More than anything, he had wanted his family off the reservation. Going back, uprooting them once again, even for a slight increase in paychecks, wouldn't have been good for his precious girls. His wife had supported his decision, and they had stayed.
In retrospective, it had been a good thing. His girls gained more opportunities—his wife had even become a manager—and things had still changed on the reservation. Aimee King had taken over in place of Karl Yazzie. It took her awhile, but she had effectively rooted out the corruption by herself. Then had gained three officers under her wing. Two men and another woman. Billy might not have done half as well as her. Aimee had always been the more passionate one at her job, so he was happy for her. Occasionally, they would meet up and exchange how-are-yous, so he was pretty much in the know about what went on at the reservation. And with her firmly in charge, it was no longer a hassle just to visit.
So, overall, his decision to stay in Banshee had been for the greater good. However, there were a few… hiccups. Ultimately, the reason he had decided to stay had been for the betterment of his girls. However, part of the decision had simply been because Billy thought he had been making a real difference in Banshee. He loved the work he did—except on Sundays—and the Sheriff's department, as a whole, got things done without running into a whole lot of red tape. Bad guys went away like they were supposed to. But lately, it hadn't been the same. It seemed the majority of arrests—real scumbags who deserved to be locked up—were being released without valid reason. And on the off chance they made it to court, they were still released, courtesy of the incompetence of the DA.
The Sheriff's department seemed to be in constant conflict with the DA's office. It was frustrating the amount of criminals being released due to lack of physical evidence. That had been the favored reasoning, which had been mostly untrue. Petty crimes were ignored, of course. It was the big things like drug-trafficking and violence where perps were let off with a slap on the wrists. Honestly, Billy understood why the Sheriff hadn't wanted to risk a guy like Declan going through the system just to get away free in the end. Billy one hundred percent supported his Sheriff. But seriously, even that man's hands were tied when it came to the bigger crimes in Banshee.
Billy frowned as he eyes darted to the digital clock on his computer screen. Fifteen minutes before he could leave. He tapped his fingers against the top of the desk with his left hand and randomly clicked the mouse with his right. He could have sworn he only had fifteen minutes to go an hour ago. Standing from his chair, Billy decided to head over to where the coffee maker was. Maybe grabbing a cup would be time-consuming enough. Wishful thinking, though. It had only taken a few minutes. Sighing lightly again, Billy stirred his cup of coffee and turned to lean against the counter.
He glanced towards the door, and then did a double take. Billy frowned as he stared at his approaching coworker. Speaking of unexpected hiccups… Kurt Bunker made his way over to his desk, dressed in uniform, and proceeded to plop down in his chair as if carrying his own weight was a burden. It was odd seeing him at this time. Normally, Kurt showed up exactly when he was scheduled, which was an hour from now. Because of their different schedules, they never crossed each other anymore. Kurt had kept the same shift, while Billy had chosen to come in during the mornings. But he hadn't decided on that shift until it had become clear that… Kurt hadn't wanted anything to do with him.
Billy had understood the distancing at first. He had. Kurt went through a harrowing experience. Burned in his own home. Not everyone would have made it through the ordeal. Obviously, he had needed time to recovery. On top of that, the woman with the cell phone had abruptly left town before Kurt had been released from the hospital. Billy didn't know the story behind that, but he had expected the guy to be moody and distant for quite some time. Only, after the doctors had cleared him to come back to work, he hadn't attempted to talk—hadn't wanted to. He had been numb for a very long time.
Eventually, Billy had stopped trying. Then, he had changed shifts so that he wouldn't have a constant reminder of his mistake. He couldn't understand why Kurt had shut him out completely. He wouldn't go as far to say that they had been best friends—it had been more like the only other option type of situation to be honest—but maybe they had been slowly but surely getting to that point. Despite being so different from one another, they both had the stigma of being outsiders in Banshee even though they had grown up here. Maybe that had been the reason Billy had needed an excuse to approach him. But then everything had changed after one horrible night, and their… friendship had ended. Looking back, it had been a mistake, anyway. The guy was a Nazi-cop. Billy couldn't invite someone that looked like him over for drinks, not around his kids. Even if he had thought about it multiple times…
Anyway, that was all in the past now, and Billy wouldn't delve on it further. Still, it was bizarre seeing Kurt at all, especially during this time. Holding back a grumble, Billy slowly made his way back over to his desk. Kurt didn't acknowledge his presence at all, per the norm, even though his desk was right next to his. He continued to stare blankly down at his own desk, a deep frown in his features. Even with the lack of communication the past two years, Billy could still read Kurt like an open book. Something had happened to him. Recently. And it had him out of sorts. Not that he should care, or that it was any of his business, but… the curiosity stabbed him, and Billy could tell that it would fester. It would be an annoying, prickling curiosity that would bubble up over the next few days. He just knew it. So, against his better judgment, Billy set down his cup of coffee and completely faced Kurt's desk.
"…" He clenched his jaw before clearing his throat. "Hey, Bunker!" Billy called out to him. It took several beats, but the tattooed man eventually looked up, stoic eyes focusing. Billy cleared his throat again, and then took a cautious step forward. "You… You doing okay?" Kurt stared at him, several expressions flashing across his features. Incredulity had been one of them. He supposed it had been odd for him to speak to him out of the blue after so long. And a direct question at that. The seconds went by, and Billy began to scold himself for letting his curiosity get the better of him.
"No…" the unexpected reply caused Billy to furrow his brow. Kurt looked away for a few seconds before returning his gaze. He frowned, visibly now. "No." The repeat only confirmed Billy's suspicions. Something big had happened, and Kurt obviously didn't know how to deal with it. Years of lack of communication, and now he chose to be candid. Stifling a bit of irritation, Billy pressed his lips together, giving his coworker a quick examination. He looked like crap. There were dark bags under his eyes. It appeared tired, physically exhausted—like he hadn't slept at all. His uniform also hadn't been ironed. Maybe things had changed in the past two years for Kurt, but Billy had known how proud the man was of the uniform, and so the wrinkles had come as a shock.
"So what happened…?"
0-0
Taking a deep breath, Gordon Hopewell lowered the newspaper in his hands. There had been a knock, disturbing his quiet Sunday afternoon. Carrie and the kids wouldn't be back until around nightfall, and he hadn't been expecting company at all. Not on the most peaceful day of his week. For more than a few seconds, he contemplated not getting up from his favorite chair. However, the ringing came again. A sigh left his mouth as he set the open newspaper on the glass coffee table. He stood up with a slight stretch, and then headed towards the door. The doorbell rang again just as he put his hand on the knob. He idly wondered who could be coming to visit. Maybe the Sheriff? The man had gotten into an annoying habit of popping up randomly to rant about the District Attorney as though Gordon being the Mayor had any control over which cases were dropped. Mostly, though, it was to visit Deva.
Gordon opened the door, and then proceeded to stare in utter shock. Out of all the people he might have thought of, this was the last face he expected to see. Alison Medding stood on his porch with a tentative smile. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a few strands framing her face. With black jeans and a light blue buttoned shirt, longs sleeved rolled up, and dark flats, it was the most casual he had seen her, but it was definitely Alison. After two years, she had appeared, without any type of warning. He must have stood there in stunned silence for a little more than necessary because she cleared her throat, glancing elsewhere.
"Are you going to make this awkward, Gordon?" she questioned.
The Mayor blinked, and then shook his head. "Sorry," he muttered, narrowing his eyes. "It's just… really surprising to see you again." Alison bit her lower lip, dropping her gaze to the ground. With a start, Gordon realized he was being rude. He cleared his throat, gaining her attention again. "Come in, come in," he urged, opening the door wider. Alison dipped her chin before walking forward into the house. Gordon shut the door and followed his… friend into the living room. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing towards the couch as he sat down in his chair. "How have you been?" He raised both eyebrows. "Where have you been? What have you been doing this whole time?"
Alison sighed softly. "I've been good, Gordon—thanks," she replied. She didn't speak again for several seconds. "Until recently, I've been living with Lena a few towns over. I worked in a small law firm."
"And now you're back?"
"Yes, I've been back since yesterday," Alison stated. She clasped her fingers together in her lap. "I'm sorry for coming to see you without calling."
"No, it's good to see you," Gordon protested. "You look great." She gave him a slight smile in thanks, and he found himself returning it. Despite her confusing departure two years ago, they could still maintain a friendly atmosphere. "So how are things? You moved back, so you're not working at a law firm anymore?"
"No, honestly, I was hoping to get hired on at the District Attorney's office," she stated. "I have an interview tomorrow, actually."
"Oh? Well, I hope you get it. The DA's office could use a cracking whip," Gordon muttered. Alison furrowed her brow. Of course, she wouldn't know the current state of affairs. "Recently, the DA has been very lenient towards violent offenders. There rarely make it to court, and when they do, charges are dropped, evidence is thrown out, or they are let off the hook with minimal sentencing. It's a mess."
"What's the nature of their offenses?" Alison asked, curious. "Are the police force not doing their jobs properly?"
"You'd think they weren't, but they are," he insisted. "If you do get hired, Alison, good luck. There's no way something shady isn't going on there." She made a noncommittal hum. "But enough about that for now." Honestly, Gordon did not want to talk about the indirect problem he had to deal with on a daily basis. Not on Sunday. "What's been going on with you? Are you finally going to tell me why you up and left? I mean, I found out later after your resignation that you had moved." Alison tilted her head to the side, looking elsewhere for a moment. Then she let out a soft sigh.
"That wasn't fair to you," she said. "I'm sorry. But I didn't know what else do except leave."
"Are you going to tell me why?" Gordon asked. After a long pause, Alison finally told him the exact reason she had left Banshee. As her friend, he could only stare, completely taken aback. But now, it had all made sense. The Alison Medding he knew wouldn't just take off at the first sign of danger. However, considering the circumstance, he could see why she had felt like there hadn't been a choice. Gordon frowned as his brain finally began thinking critically about the situation. "That night… I heard a little about what happened. Were you there with him? Did they see you?"
"No," Alison stated. "I was there, but I left to take a… business call. I wasn't seen. But what I did to some of the monsters responsible in retaliation probably put me on their radar, so… I left."
"Jesus, Alison…" Gordon sighed out. He roughly rubbed his chin. She, herself, had told him a few years ago that she had loved the guy, but hearing something like that… Jesus. "So why now? Why come back?"
"I figured two years was enough time for the memories to fade," she said. "That I wouldn't have to fear the consequences for what I did. Everything's changed so much since the last time I was here, so it shouldn't be a problem for me to just become another face in the crowd." Gordon nodded his head in agreement. Alison stared down at her hands. "Honestly, I would have stayed away longer, but I realized I needed to come home, and now that I'm here, I guess the need is more than I thought." She sighed softly before rubbing at her thighs. "Anyway, how have you been, Gordon? Where's Carrie and the kids?"
"Oh, we bought a fixer-upper a few months ago," Gordon told her. "They go and… well, fix it every Sunday. Sometimes, I go, but it's more Carrie's project. It's a little far from town, so there's virtually no distractions. Gives her something to do."
"Other than stealing, you mean?"
"Hey…!" he protested, half-heartedly. Alison merely smirked and arched a brow. Chuckling, Gordon shook his head. "I'm good, too, by the way. I've got one more year of office, and hopefully I'm not expected to go for another term."
"I thought you loved being Mayor," Alison remarked.
"It's a hassle, and so much paperwork," he replied. "I'd rather go back to prosecuting. And with the way the new DA is handling things, it'll be a bit of relief to get my old job back. Now that you're here, maybe we can take Proctor out now."
"Proctor… He's not my priority anymore," she admitted.
"Right. Of course," Gordon said. "But Alison… You know you can only hold the devil back for so long." She frowned and nodded her head in agreement. Eventually, Proctor would come for her. She had told him the reason she had had to change her cell phone number before she had left Banshee. Proctor had been relentless in trying to speak with her. Because of that, no one else had had the means of communicating with her either.
Gordon sighed, giving Alison a quick examination, and noting the familiar subtle changes. Being away for so long, of course her priorities would have changed by now, though. Hell, maybe this position she was applying for hadn't been for Assistant District Attorney. She had been working as a simple lawyer these past two years, after all. Maybe she had become content with an easy way making a living. It would not surprise him at all.
"So when are you going to invite me over to your new place?" Gordon asked, attempting to change the subject.
She opened her mouth to answered, slight grin forming, but before she could voice her response, a sudden chime sounded, completely distracting her. Alison shifted a bit, reaching for the cell phone in the back pocket of her jeans. She glanced at the screen, and then let out a small huff. "I hate to cut this short," she began, standing up from the couch. "But Lena's already at the house, so I have to go." Pocketing her phone, she smiled. Gordon stood from his chair, returning the smile. "I hope we can catch up soon."
"Yeah, that sounds nice," he said as they began walking towards the door. "My number's still the same if you want to text me your new address."
"Sounds good," Alison said. She opened the door, and Gordon chose to walk her out. She halted and turned to face him after descending down the stone steps. "It was good seeing you, too." Gordon lifted his hand in a wave, and Alison's smile widened just a bit. She turned again, moving quickly towards the car parked on the other side of the street. Her vehicle was still the same. He fleetingly pondered if she still owned that motorcycle. A shame, if she didn't, but he couldn't really see her driving it around anymore.
Gordon watched her go, holding back a sigh until he could no longer see her vehicle. Two years gone without explanation, and now she had suddenly decided to come back. Only to drop a bombshell. He shook his head. Unbelievable. He wasn't as though he couldn't understand why Alison had done what she had. He would have done the same. He had done the same for Carrie. Still, his friend, who had had thought he knew, had went and done something completely foolish. If anyone—any scum—put two and two together… Jesus. He hoped that two years had been enough time. For the sake of everyone involved.
0-0
Tap, tap, tap…
Kurt's fingers drummed against the side of his mug of coffee. Sitting in a diner, close to the station, and he still hadn't been able to focus. Hadn't been able to focus all morning, actually. No matter how many times he had attempted any sort of meditation, he had failed. Whether it had been sitting calmly in one place, reading, or cooking, he just had not been able to clear his mind. Food had been burned. Books had been thrown. His night had been full of tossing and turning, too, and no amount of scolding himself had made the thoughts leave his brain.
Alison Medding had returned to Banshee. Or maybe, she had never left in the first place. No, that couldn't have been the case. Kurt had searched this whole town when he had been discharged from the hospital. Although, he hadn't been fully recovered at the time, he had been certain that she had left. She had utterly disappeared, and had left nothing behind. She had packed her belongings, had quit her job, and had abandoned her house. She had abandoned him. Now, two years later, she had just shown up out of the blue.
Sighing, Kurt halted the drumming of his fingers and gripped the sides with both hands. He, of course, had denied it when he had crawled out of bed. It wouldn't have been the first time he had had such a vivid dream. But there had been no denying the marks left behind by her mouth. Or the lingering scent of her. Christ. She had really come back, and had immediately twisted his… everything. He had been fine beforehand, but she had selfishly thrown out any semblance of ease. Only discomfort remained. Already, her presence had hijacked his life, which caused him to arrive to work earlier than normal with an empty stomach. Why had she come back after all this time? Now, he was waiting to spill his guts to the one person in Banshee that he could.
Deputy Billy Raven. His coworker sat on the opposite side of him. It had been his suggestion for the two of them to find some place relatively private to talk. Since he had been waiting to clock out, and Kurt had arrived too early for the start of his shift, it had been agreed that they would meet here, a block down from the station. This place was basically catered to the police force with it being so close. Kurt silently sighed, loosening his grip on the mug. Billy continued to sit there, patiently waiting. That had been a wonder. The man he had known would have started asking questions in rapid succession right about now. Then again, Kurt hadn't had a real conversation with Billy in years.
It had a been a shock that he would even call out to him after so long—let alone asking about Kurt's state of mind. Somehow, Billy had seen the quiet frustration. Somehow, Kurt hadn't been able to stop himself from answering truthfully. Seeing Alison again had been so unexpected and had left him staggered. So much so that he hadn't hesitated to admit how fucked up he was because of her abrupt return. To a man he had barely seen since they had relocated downtown. Christ. Maybe this was a bad idea.
"Bunker," Billy began. Maybe he had seen the wariness creep across his face, and interpreted that as an inclination of fleeing. Maybe it was. "I know we have our differences, or… whatever, but…" He sighed heavily. "Look, I haven't seen you this… torn up since…" He trailed off, but the subject matter was clear. Billy Raven was someone who knew how Alison could affect Kurt. "Is it her…?" The woman with the cell phone, he had taken to calling her. That had been the only thing Billy had known about her. Maybe eventually Kurt would have told him more, but-
Images flashed through his mind then. Of that night. His hand reflexively went to his chest, palm pressed lightly against where the scorch skin was. "She left while I was in the hospital," Kurt stated. "I had no idea until I went looking for her. She had packed her things and just… disappeared. Without a word. I looked for her for a long time. I should have been resting, but I didn't. Eventually, though, I stopped looking. Her cell phone number was disconnected and so was her landline. I had no way of contacting her, so she obviously didn't want to be found."
"So you don't know why she left?" Billy questioned.
Kurt breathed deeply through his nose. Of course he knew why, and he couldn't blame her for it. Not really. He could rage and he could feel the hurt—and he had so intensely—but he understood her reaction. Calvin's retaliation for just a few words had been swift. Neither one of them had been expecting it. For months, he had lived with a fear that his brother would come for him again. Alison must have gotten that fear, too, and had decided not to stay. How she had managed to slip out from under their noses, he hadn't been able to imagine, but it must have been by a hair. Obviously, she had decided that he hadn't been worth the trouble. She had decided he hadn't been worth a goodbye.
"She left because she didn't want to get involved—it became too real for her," Kurt muttered. He found his fingers curled around the mug again. Again, he didn't blame Alison for her reaction. He understood the fear that the Brotherhood could instill in a person. But… She had told him that she would be supportive of his actions. He hadn't thought one—albeit, huge—mishap would cause her to run. It had hurt because in the end, she hadn't felt as strongly as he had. "The reason doesn't really matter, anyway. She left, and I… I got over her."
"Then…?" Billy prompted.
"Then I saw her. Last night. At the store." Kurt squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, remembering how she had stolen his breath in more ways than one. "She kissed me." Billy's eyes widened. Kurt looked down at the table. There had been a roaring in his head the moment he had seen her. Then when her lips touched his, it had become silent, and he had known peace. He hadn't known he had been at war inside himself until she welcomed him back. Christ. In an instant, she turned all of the years separated into only days. Kurt didn't understand why. She had left him. She couldn't just… She didn't have the right to just come back years later and disrupt everything as though he had been waiting for her this whole time.
"She kissed you…" Billy murmured. "Okay, that actually makes sense." Kurt sharply looked back up at his coworker, completely baffled by his speculation. "Even if she couldn't handle how things had gone down, obviously she wouldn't abruptly stop having feelings for you."
"Obviously?" Kurt repeated.
"Yeah… I met her—the woman with the cell phone," Billy confessed. Kurt could only stare in stunned silence. "She's the one who found you. She-" He lowered his voice. "The DA—Alison—was still at the hospital when I arrived that night. She was there every time I went to see you."
"What? No she wasn't," Kurt protested. "Nobody told me anything."
"Why would they? Unless you asked?"
"… No." He hadn't asked. The gaggle of nurses who had taken turns in caring for him had been completely put off by his presence, though they had still done their jobs. There hadn't been any small talk or gossiping going on. He had looked at the visitor list. No one had visited him, except the Sheriff, and that visit had happened just days before his release. He had thought no one cared enough to see him. In a way, he had expected it, but he had still felt disappointed. It had been one of the reasons Kurt hadn't attempted to speak with Billy afterwards. It had probably been the main reason. He had believed that his coworker had simply been his coworker. Nothing more. And now to hear that Billy had visited, along with Alison, it shook his outlook. This whole time, he had been bitter about it.
"Anyway, I don't have the whole story on why she left, but it was clear to me that she cared about you a lot," Billy continued, not responding to the onslaught of confusion on Kurt's face. "So maybe in her mind, or heart, or whatever…" Billy rubbed the side of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable. "You two didn't exactly end when she left—just stopped for a little while." Kurt grit his teeth, shifting his eyes away. "What did she say last night?"
"There wasn't much talking," he said. Billy gasped as though scandalized. Kurt had a hard time not rolling his eyes. Fleetingly, he was glad for the familiar back and forth. "That's not what I meant." Although, if he hadn't come back to his senses, their sudden reunion would have become a little bit more inappropriate. "I left. I just left her there. I didn't know what to do. I still don't know what to do." Despite the new information, it hadn't changed the fact that she had left. She had left without any type of goodbye. And now she just expected them to pick up right where they had left off? Had that been what that kiss meant?
"Do you know what you want?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, whatever her reason, Alison left without giving you a chance to do anything about it," Billy explained. "You didn't get to agree, or deny, or argue, or ask questions. Basically, she didn't give you any type of closure. It wasn't a clean breakup. It wasn't a break up at all, really. She left you here, waiting. Even if you weren't aware of it, you were waiting, and now that waiting is over. So the question is… What do you want to do now?"
"I don't…" Kurt shook his head. "I don't know." He had been fine. Until this moment, anyway, he had thought he had been fine. He had recovered to the point of moving, going back to work, and forming a relationship with his nephew. He hadn't needed anything else. He hadn't wanted anything else after he had resigned himself to never seeing her again. But now she had resurfaced, and the want had resurfaced, too. Still, Kurt didn't exactly know what that want was.
"Okay, clearly you want answers. Maybe that's all you want. Or maybe, you want more," Billy mentioned. "Maybe an easier question is… Do you want closure, or do you want a continuation?"
Even hours later, Kurt couldn't come up with a solid answer.
It bothered me a lot that Billy Raven's character was written out the way it was. I mean, this could be my brain not remembering properly, but I distinctly remember the guy saying that he "had" to get his family off the reservation. Like it was a must type of situation. So to find out in season four that he put his family back on the reservation didn't make any sense to me. I wish they would have went over a little bit more with his departure, maybe show the reason he went back, or something. But no. All I got was a sentence. Ugh. In this story, Billy Raven is here to stay.
You know who's not here to stay? Declan. Screw that guy. I imagine you don't even know who I'm talking about by name only. He had balls in his head to make it look like he had horns. I think they were golf balls... Yeah, screw that guy. Lackluster, he was. Spoiler alert, the main antagonist of this story is the Brotherhood, as they were supposed to be in season 4. I mean, I could be wrong... but I thought they had been built up in the 3rd season to be the main bad guys of the next. No. We got stuck with a guy with balls in his head. Ugh. I have many issues with season 4.
Anyway, I'm hoping things will pick up in the next chapter. :D
