definitionsfading:

“You ever think of trying to put a label on all this?” Marty asks,
raising two fingers from his chest in a gesture that seems to encompass the entire room. “What we’re doing here?”

“Not really,” Rust says. “Don’t see any real point in trying to box ourselves in. It is what it is.”

Marty turns over on his side, quietly hissing against the protest of hidden aches and pains. “And what is that?”


“I don’t know,” Rust says, peering down at Marty under the weight of his lashes. “It’s just what we’ve got.”

What We’ve Got || a True Detective fic
[on AO3]