Title: The Swear Jar 23/X

Author: Romantique

Email: dolph1n

Classification: Raylan/Winona Family/General

Rating: T for language (but no worse than the show)

Summary: Raylan is a new dad. This one is a stand-alone, not a sequel to 'A Change of Scenery.'

Disclaimer: It's 'Justified' hiatus time, and I'm bored. This fic is based on nothing but my imagination and takes place sometime after the end of Season 3.

Legal: These characters do not belong to me. I'm just a fan and have not made a dime. Please email me to obtain permission to post.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

On the drive to Raylan's house, Dr. Fried suggested the marshal call his boss, before he arrived home and took the sleep medication. He did so from the passenger seat of her car. She noted the call seemed to go very smoothly, as she hoped it would. Raylan then called Winona to let her know that Dr. Fried was bringing him home. Understandably, she was concerned at hearing this and had questions. All he could do was to assure her he was okay and that they would arrive shortly.

Once there, he entered the house, followed by Dr. Fried, to find Winona rocking the baby in their den. Caitlyn had just drifted off to sleep.

"Let me put the baby down," Winona said, acknowledging the two of them. "I'll be right back."

She returned a few minutes later to find Raylan stretched out on the sofa and Dr. Fried seated in the chair across from him. She tapped the bottom Raylan's boots with her fingernails and, in response, he drew his legs in, making room for her to sit on the end of the sofa with him.

"I'm Carolyn Fried, Raylan's psychiatrist," the doctor introduced herself. "I work for the Marshal Service. You're Raylan's, fiancée, Winona?"

"That's right," Winona said softly. Looking at Raylan and with great impatience, she asked, "Raylan? What's going on?"

Now lying on his side, Raylan placed his hands over his eyes. He let out a burdened sigh and then, he moved his hands away from his face just long enough to look over at the doctor. "I can't do this tonight," he said, too weary to think or to speak.

The concern on Winona's face was very apparent, and she reached over and placed her hand protectively on his leg above his boot.

"Raylan's having trouble sleeping," Dr. Fried began to explain, "more so lately, because of some dreams he's been having … dreams he describes as 'disturbing'."

"I know he had a bad dream the other night," Winona offered, somehow needing to prove to this woman that she was connected to her man.

"And another last night," the doctor continued, "and yet, another today … when he fell asleep at work from exhaustion. That's why I drove him home. Even he knew he had no business driving on the road."

Winona instinctively squeezed Raylan's leg even tighter, as her mind raced.

"Do these dreams have anything to do with the sessions you two have been having?" she asked. "Because that's when they started."

As a court reporter, Winona had transcribed enough expert witness testimony from enough shrinks to know a good many of them were full of shit. Therefore, her trust in therapists was not very high.

"Very likely," Dr. Fried responded. "He's hesitant to go to sleep for fear of having another one of these dreams … so much so that it prompted him to call me this afternoon … and I'm glad he did."

"Well? What do they mean?" Winona asked the doctor the obvious.

"First things first," the doctor was firm and in control. "I just gave him something to help him sleep tonight."

For the first time, Winona glanced at the coffee table and saw a half full glass of water and the foil remnants of a bubble pack of pills. Raylan must have taken the pills while she was putting the baby down.

"Would you call me if he has any problems on the medication?" Dr. Fried continued. "He should do fine, but this is the first time he's taking this particular medication, and one never knows."

"Watch for what?" Winona sounded snippy, impatient.

Winona was miffed at this woman. She didn't know Dr. Fried and didn't trust her, and she knew that Raylan hadn't known her very long, either.

The doctor fished a card out of her purse and handed it to Winona.

"Watch for anything that concerns you," she responded. "He should sleep through the night and may be groggy in the morning. That's to be expected. But anything else you don't feel is normal for him, please call me, immediately." Then, after a beat, she added, "He called Art Mullens on the way here and informed him he's being treated for insomnia ... and that he needs some time off from work to adjust to the medication. His boss had no problem with the request."

"Well, no. Art wouldn't," Winona concurred. "He's always trying to get Raylan to take some time off."

Still, Winona did not look okay with what was happening, and Dr. Fried picked up on it.

"I know this isn't ideal … me bringing him home and offering him medication, but Raylan came in to see me at the end of the day to let me know he desperately needed to get some sleep," she offered. "It was either this … medication at home … or check him into a hospital. You know him well enough to know that hospitalization was not going to be an option."

"Uh, no," Winona shook her head. "Raylan would not want to go into the hospital."

"There one more thing," the doctor said. "I want to see him tomorrow afternoon at 1:30, after he's had some sleep and is rested. So long as it's okay with Raylan, you are welcome to join him in session. But even if it's not, I am encouraging him to trust you … and to trust me. This is something he has needed to deal with for a long time coming."

"I hear you," Winona said, "but exactly what is it he needs to deal with?"

Sensing her frustration, Dr. Fried answered as best she could. "Raylan was in no shape this evening to talk to me. Dream analysis requires that he be able to participate. It's not something I can do without feedback from him. I hope to talk more, tomorrow."

"What do you mean? Dream analysis?" Winona asked with sarcasm in her voice. "Isn't that some kind of a parlor trick?"

Dr. Fried smiled. "Dreams come from our subconscious mind. They can be either flashback in nature, reflecting something that really did happen … or they can contain symbolism of something the conscious mind cannot deal with. Or they can be the mind's way to solve problems that can't be solved during conscious, waking hours. I need his feedback to determine which it is."

Winona looked over at Raylan, as his chest rose and fell. His eyes were closed and his breathing was nice and steady. Finally, he was sleeping, peacefully.

Tears began to well up in her blue eyes and a lump formed in her throat as Winona said, "We're about to be re-married. I've been through a lot of shit with him over the years." After a beat, she asked, "Is he going to be okay?"

Dr. Fried leaned forward in her chair. "While I can't be a hundred percent certain, I have a strong hunch that he's going to feel a whole lot better, a lot freer, when he's able to work through a few things. I do know the one thing he fears most is that you might not be able to handle him while he's going through this."

"He's afraid I'm going to leave him," Winona offered knowingly, under her breath. Then, she looked the doctor dead in the eye. "Well, of course I'm going be here for him," Winona insisted, sounding rather indignant.

"There's no right or wrong here. It doesn't matter if his fear of you leaving him is rational or not, deserved or not," the doctor countered, "or whether you've earned his fear or not."

Winona interrupted the good doctor. "Oh, trust me," she said, running her fingers through her hair. "I've definitely earned his fear … from my past behavior." Sheepishly, she looked up at the woman across the room. "I've left him, not once, but twice in the past."

She waited for the doctor to say something, but Dr. Fried did not.

Finally, Winona broke the silence.

"Raylan's changed a lot since Caitlyn was born," she continued. "He's more careful on the job. That was my biggest bone of contention with him … was him taking foolish chances with his life and his safety on the job. It's like, in the moment, he was so driven on the job that he wasn't considering anyone else … not even himself. But since the baby was born, he's been much, much better. He calls for backup; he wears his vest … He tries his best to stay out of Harlan."

Wetting her dry lips with her tongue, Winona confessed, "I promised him I'd never leave him again. We talked about it, at length, when he asked me to remarry him."

"Even so, it's the way he feels," Dr. Fried pointed out. "Right or wrong, you need to honor that."

As much as Winona had learned to distrust shrinks, she felt this woman was onto something. She put her fingers up to her mouth and nodded, "Okay."

"We're asking this strong, confident law man to open up … and be vulnerable," the doctor went on. "That's not who he is. This isn't going to be easy for him. What he needs from you is your support and your assurance, and reassurance, that you're not going anywhere. That will be of tremendous importance."

Winona nodded again. "I can do that."

After a beat, Dr. Fried continued, "I've thought for some time now that the marshal has been harboring some personal issues just below the surface. And I honestly believe that once he brings them forth to examine them in the light of day, he'll be a much less burdened man."

Intuitively feeling the doctor was again onto something, Winona said, "Honestly? I've thought the same."

The following morning …

It was almost 11 a.m. before Winona finally walked back into the bedroom to wake Raylan.

"Raylan, you need to wake up," she said near his face, shaking him by his shoulder. "You need to get showered and eat something before I take you to see Dr. Fried and pick up your car."

Raylan abruptly opened his eyes, not tracking where he was. The last thing he remembered was dozing off on the sofa, and he had no recollection of how he came to be in the bed.

"I've got a fresh pot of coffee brewing," she said. "I thought you could use some."

Slowly, he sat up in bed, looking more than a little lost.

"Are you okay to get up? Are you feeling okay?" Winona was a little concerned.

"Yeah," he nodded, answering with what felt like was cotton in his mouth. "I'm fine. Coffee sounds real good."

Winona stood nearby to make certain he was okay to stand and walk. Other than moving a little slower than usual, he seemed to be fine. Raylan headed for the bathroom, as she returned to the kitchen and the baby. After a time, she ran back into the bedroom for a moment, until she heard the shower running.

"Good," she thought. "He'll make his appointment."

After some time had passed, he emerged into the kitchen, showered and dressed for the day. Winona handed him a cup of coffee.

"You want some toast or cereal? Or a sandwich?" she asked. "It's almost lunch time. You really should eat something."

"Yeah, some toast and peanut butter would be just fine," he answered, headed for the kitchen table, as he took a sip of the hot cup of Joe.

Cait was seated up on top of the table, and she smiled a big smile upon seeing her daddy's face. He smiled back at her and leaned down to give his baby a kiss on the top of her soft head, before taking a seat beside her.

"I went to see Faylene yesterday evening," Winona decided to lighten the mood. "We're going to get together again tomorrow. You were right … she is really excited to do this for us."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, taking a seat at the table. "I was worried you might want to postpone things … after last night."

Winona walked over behind his chair and wrapped her arms around him.

"Fat chance," she whispered in his ear. "You're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you. So, get used to it."

"Stuck, huh?" he smiled and placed his hand over her forearms, relishing her touch.

She kissed the side of his face from behind. "Like glue. You and I are stuck together like glue. You and me and our babies."

"No matter what?" he asked. "I mean, this could be bad."

She knew he was referring to his dreams.

"Raylan," she pulled up a chair beside him and took a seat. "You're a good man. Whatever it is … if it's anything … is irrelevant today. You're living proof of that."

"God, I hope you're right," he sighed.

"Of course I am," she smiled a confident smile. "I'm sure of it."

Then, she leaned over and gave Raylan a kiss that started off as a peck on the lips and progressed to a lot of tongue. She could taste the coffee and cream and sugar in his mouth. Eyes closed, he put his arms around her and drew her in closer, deepening their kiss. As their breathing became heavier, his body instantly reacted to her touch, and hers to his. He frantically pulled her up on her feet, reached up the hem of her dress, and slid her panties down over her hips until they fell to the floor where she stepped out of them. He then, unbuckled his belt, as Winona worked to free him from his jeans. Her abdomen barely showing, Raylan was yet very aware of her condition, and he moved his chair away from the table so that she had room straddle him. Then, he held her hips and carefully, slowly lowered her, while he remained seated in the chair.

Their joined movements were deliciously slow and smooth. Breathing even more heavily, Winona let out a low pleasure moan, at the same time Raylan buried his face into the middle her covered breasts, where she could feel his hot breath through the cotton jersey of her dress. In less than a dozen strokes, they climbed to the summit and went over the edge, together, in a climactic release.

They clung to one another until their breathing returned to normal.

"I love you," Winona whispered, her arms wrapped around him.

"I love you, too," Raylan said from somewhere low in his throat.

He thought about what Winona had just said about always staying with him, no matter what. If only he could be so sure.

(To be continued …)