Rachel is going to kill someone. She knows it. She is equally sure that it is going to be someone in her own office, and very probably her boss. She knows that Art sometimes has these blind spots about things, she is well aware that he says things that if he had thought about it that tad bit longer, he would have found a new way to say the thing on his mind.

But this is a new level of something that she really doesn't care to contemplate. Art is angry, she gets that, he is beside himself with worry, but right now his worry has gotten out ahead of his brain and he's just made everything a hundred thousand times worse.

She is worried about Tim, he's badly injured, and he's still unconscious, but he's being looked after by a wonderfully capable staff, and there is nothing that she can do personally for him right now.

Raylan is breaking apart.

He's been in that chair by Tim's bedside for almost twenty-four hours, he hasn't spoken, or moved, or even looked up. The doctors want to sedate him, but he's an armed, angry and devastated man, and they are talking about extreme measures that are just going to make everything much, much worse.

And Art's apparently agreeing with them.

Rachel scowls. She speaks Raylan these days. She guesses she always did, but since the crash when they held each other together and stayed alive out of sheer stubbornness, they've been getting closer. They've even been out drinking together. Not quite a date, but just spending time together, it's like the date to make a date to date.

She's unsure, he's unsure, but they seem more sure together. It's nice.

Raylan doesn't do feelings, he tells her stories, most of the time the stories are not even about him or his past, except they sort of are. Perhaps they're less stories, more allegories and urban legends.

Some of them have been about cars and crashes. She doesn't need to be a psychologist to work out that Raylan's feeling some kind of anxiety when he's forced to get behind the wheel of one of their SUVs. He happily drives the town car, but then he always did prefer it, it's booked in his name and it's his ride of choice, but a couple of times he's been pushed into a Yukon and he can't wait to palm the keys off onto someone else.

Now Tim and Raylan have got themselves into a mess, and Tim's hurt and Raylan isn't dealing.

She scowls at the doctor. "I'm going in there and there is nothing you can do about it." She says snappily. "I am not going to give him something to drink that you've spiked, so you can put that idea out of your head straight away. I am not going to lie to him, and you are going to give me some time."

She reserves some of her glare for Art, because she can't believe he was going to agree to them slipping Raylan a mickey. He's hurting and that would just be a complete violation of what little trust that Raylan did have.

She picks up the other chair and puts it quietly down next to Raylan. He's sitting there, slumped down on his spine, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hat's tilted forwards, and truly you would have imagined that he's completely relaxed, except for his hands folded tightly together, and the tension in his face that is palpable.

She lays a hand on his clasped fingers. She wonders how to start, because she knows that Raylan won't, that whatever else is going on in his head right now, nothing is actually going to force words out of him. Taciturn is Raylan's way, it's how he holds himself together.

They have been here before. The last time Rachel didn't understand, and she made things worse, but this time she knows the keys and the triggers, and she's finally gotten a little understanding of the depth of Raylan's battered soul.

So she sits there and she tells him a story, it isn't about her or Raylan or anyone they know, just something she heard once, and looking at Tim in the bed in front of them, it's the first thing that springs to her mind.

She really has no idea about passage of time, or even when things start to happen, she only knows that she began by holding on to Raylan, and now he's holding on to her. His fingers; those long, sensitive, calloused, sure fingers, are wrapped around hers. His grip isn't too tight, there is something caring about his touch, like he's handling something fine and precious, and the emotion that sweeps through Rachel at that thought nearly has her tearing up but Raylan needs her strong and steady, more than ever before, so she pulls herself together.

She sits there and talks and holds his hand, and slowly Raylan unkinks next to her. He's listening, he's hurting, and devastated and scared out of his mind because he believes that Tim's injury is directly his fault, but he's listening to her. Rachel is reaching him.

Tim moans. His eyebrows knit together and there are lines of pain on his face, and there is commotion around them as he starts to wake up.

There's an opportunity for Rachel to get Raylan out of there. They can deal with everything tomorrow, because right now, he's wound far too tight.

It's strange because she thought she would have had more of a fight, but now that he knows Tim's awake, Raylan seems to want to slip away. She has a feeling she knows why, but she will put that right with Tim's help later. They're a team, Tim and Rachel have finally cracked the code that is Raylan Givens and she isn't losing that advantage now. They've come too far.

She gets them back to Raylan's small place.

"Hungry?" He's asking, his voice sounds a bit hoarse and maybe even a little shaky, but he's asking and suddenly she realizes that she is ravenous.

"Ravenous."

"Chicken and biscuits." He says.

She'll worry about her waistline tomorrow, because right now she is truly craving some of that finger-licking goodness, and perhaps a smile in Raylan's eyes. She nods.

She flips through the pile of DVDs that Raylan has somehow accumulated. "Salmon fishing in the Yemen?" She says.

"Winona brought it." He looks confused then for a moment, and she realizes that he's thinking about things again. She wants to say what about your baby girl? But she gets that he's trying to sound normal, trying to get his equilibrium back, and she can't push that right now. But maybe later when they've had chicken and sat down and watched a movie that probably makes no sense to him, but is kind of a metaphor for everything.

A film about faith, and fish.

And maybe a little about their situation too.