Five Minutes

All Along The Watchtower

Everything else that happened in the course of following few hours went by in practically a haze. Ralston was handcuffed and thrown into the back of a cop car, taken to the Hollywood Community Police Station, where he was fingerprinted and photographed. Afterward, he was thrown into a holding cell.

It was an odd experience to be involved with. Ralston was by no means perfect, but he never imagined himself being in a police station, as an aftermath of his own behaviour. It was as if he were living another man's life. A man who publicly beat people up and ended up sitting in a cell.

Given his opportunity for one call, he'd immediately phoned Veronica.

At first he worried she wasn't by her phone. What if she didn't pick up? Would he have to stay here for two days? Three? Maybe he should've have researched it. He wasn't well informed with the procedure for arrest, considering this was the first time it happened to him.

The worry was demolished when he heard her pick up after the forth ring. After she did, he relayed what happened to her.

"What?" she exclaimed in disbelief and in a sharp tone he interpreted as rage. "You said you were going out for beer! What the fuck, Ralston."

"I fucked up," he admitted. He acted very impulsively; there was nothing to warrant it besides immense stupidity and recklessness. Oddly, that wasn't what he regretted most. He'd also lied to Veronica about it too. To her face. He felt terrible about it.

"Okay, I'll be there soon."

________

Having the money to pay the bail bond didn't assuage her unease. She couldn't contain her anger when she saw him, knowing he'd just come from behind bars. Bars used to detain criminals and idiots, who weren't capable of following rules.

"I don't want to hear anything from you," she said, when he'd walked over to her. However, the instant they stepped outside of the building, he had to open his mouth. "I'm sorry."

She kept her mouth tight, pretending she like she hadn't acknowledged, or even heard, his apology. His tone suggested sincerity, but it didn't amend what he'd done. It was stupid of him. And she had a right to be temporarily angry with him for it.

She slid into the car and slammed the door so hard, it nearly even made herself jump. She just bailed her husband out of jail. For physical assault. Whatever the motive, it was not behaviour a decent person wanted to be associated with.

The car ride was awkward, neither making any attempts of conversation. She put on music and raised the volume to make it even more obvious she didn't want to talk, the sound filling up the inside of the car with chaotic rhythm and angry lyrics chanted by Metallica.

They said nothing as she pulled into the gates of their home and parked her car in the garage.

By then, the anger had surprisingly subsided. After they'd entered the house and she locked the door, she turned to stare at him. "Why would you do that?"

"I was mad," he said. "I know it was stupid, but I didn't give a shit. I would have killed him if I could."

She glanced down, fiddling with her keys. Could she be livid for that? Could she even blame him for wanting to kill Daniel? She'd experienced the same string of emotions, even more strongly than Ralston, physically, emotionally and mentally. The difference was that she knew she could never act on them.

Taking a small breath, she stared back up at him. "I appreciate it, but... there might be a lot of backlash from this." She was scared, even more scared about everything than she was before.

"I don't care."

"But I do." What if his career was stained by this? Could he manage to take it all in stride? She didn't want to think about it; she couldn't stop the worries from accumulating.

"I know I shouldn't have done it, but... I'm glad I punched that weasel in the face. Someone had to do it."

"Yeah, I know. It would've been nicer if it was someone else who did it." It didn't matter that his heart was actually in the right place when he did it.

"Let's just... not talk about it anymore."

She debated whether they should stop the conversation or not. She knew it was best not to discuss it. There wasn't much they could do about it now. However, if they didn't talk about it, she would keep thinking about it anyway.

"Shit's gonna hit the fan in a couple of days. Or... a few hours," he commented. "So we can just drop it until then."

She supposed he did have a point. She didn't know what the repercussion would be, but it was inevitable. Taking that moment of peace would be worth it. "Fine. We won't talk about it."

So they didn't.