Work Text:
Standing in front of a mirror on his wedding day, Raylan thought of his mother and of Aunt Helen (he didn’t think of his daddy). His face, older and tireder than he ever expected it to be, looked back at him and he savagely felt their loss. He’d not returned to Harlan for his mother’s funeral then he’d spent every moment of Helen’s wishing he wasn’t there. It was different, when it meant something. He’d just felt awkward at Winona’s mother’s funeral. A gentle hand appeared on Raylan’s shoulder, and he reached up to cover it. The hand squeezed gently.