Author notes: So I'm back with the sequel to Confluence, it's a little bit odd this prologue so I apologise. Kind of tracking Richard's thoughts, he's in a weird place. Hope any previous readers of Confluence enjoy this fic just as much. Please comment, it makes me happy. (Also took into account events from 2.10)

Prologue

The car had struggled and juddered for a mile or so, the noise it made showed that it would not be able to take them as far as it needed to go. It was typical, the first time he'd been to Philadelphia in three months and this happens. Richard sat quietly in the back; Harris his driver, an associate of Jimmy's swore and hit the steering wheel with his hand. Richard didn't like him much; he was a tedious man and his hygiene left a lot to be desired.

"We ain't fucking goin' anywhere tonight!" The man growled, Richard looked out of the window across the fields and the open stretch of road still visible in the dimming night sky. He had no intention of staying here for any longer than he had to.

"Hmm. How far?"

"Maybe a couple o' miles."

"Hmm." Richard mused and he felt for the handle and opened the door. The dusk air was a little crisp but not freezing cold. He slung on his overcoat and he couldn't feel a bit of the wind except on his face.

"Where are ya goin'?" Harris wailed from the front seat. Richard didn't answer, he just set of walking. The longing for a bit of quiet and a bit of air was soon granted and with the address memorised in his head he would find his way there eventually. Long walks gave him time to think and though he didn't really like thinking it beat being stuck with Harris' moans and groans. There was something strangely symbolic as he made his way down the road towards Philadelphia, he was walking it's length alone as he did in life with his goal visible yet hazy in the distance.

It made sense for him to go to Philadelphia. Jimmy spent half the time under the influence and the rest with their mutual acquaintance Jenny. Though Jimmy was far more acquainted with her than Richard was. One thing was good about Jenny, she was the means of them not visiting Capone in Chicago as much as they once did. These days Jimmy needed a distraction, with Angela gone poor Tommy was left in Gillian's care and after taking his time finishing off Manny something was needed to fill the gap. First there was booze, then heroin then along came Jenny with her reddened lips and athletic hips.

So here Richard was, walking the road alone, taking the responsibility for creating this deal. He hoped he was up to the task, his negotiating skills had improved a little though he was still no communicator. One thing in his favour was that people often stated their case quickly for he somehow unnerved them, it was an upside he didn't always appreciate but it meant he got back quicker. But got back quicker for what? He had nothing.

Well not quite nothing, he had Jimmy and he had Violet. Well…. He had Violet on a Thursday evening, it had been that way for a while. As he walked up the road he pondered the small, raven haired woman he had been acquainted with now for some time. She was a friend of Jenny's though he had actually met her first and the attraction was strong enough that with a little push from Jimmy he sought her services.

Richard never intended to spend his life visiting a hooker once a week, he had always dreamed of something far more meaningful. It's depths were so deep and grand that Jimmy looked at him at times with deep concern and bafflement. Once Jimmy had had everything Richard wanted, now they were the same. In fact Jimmy had put it to Richard plainly one day over a glass of whisk.

"Richard, you fuck a whore. You don't make love to them."

These were the words of a post Angela world. When he had first met Jimmy in Chicago and he had explained about Pearl that was far from his sentiment. The way he had described her and the tragic way she took her own life had given Richard even more desire to show gratitude to Jimmy and so he agreed to kill Liam. But that was the past and for Richard it wasn't a nice place to live in.

When he returned tomorrow it would be only a few hours from Thursday and that was the light at the end of the tunnel. He just wondered if Violet even noticed how tightly he screwed his eye shut and how part of him was never quite present with her even though the physical release was earth shattering every time. Then his brain reminded him 'she probably doesn't even care, Richard.' Suddenly he noticed how silent and dark it had got around him, he looked back and he could no longer say how far he had walked. That feeling of vulnerability crept in though it was not of the physical kind, but somewhere out of the corner of his mind a whisper crept out and spoke in a way that sounded like a presence was so near.

And by the moon the reaper weary,

Piling sheaves in uplands airy,

Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy

Lady of Shalott".

Richard shook his head violently and stopped in the middle of the road, that voice and those memories could crawl back into that chest of bleaker, broken memories that continued to add to his misery. That was the past, the war was past, Wisconsin was past and so was Nell Byrne and they could all try and lead him to wrack and ruin but he would not break. He could not break. Jimmy needed him and he needed Jimmy.

A helpful distraction came by the rumbling of an engine coming from behind him. It was gradually getting nearer and with it came the brightening of two headlights. Richard stepped to the side and was expecting it to pass, but he found as it drew near it slowed and came to a complete stop beside him. A man opened the door and in the dull illumination he looked Richard up and down.

"Philly?" He asked.

"Hmm. Yes."

"Want a lift?"

"Hmm. Thank you."

The conversation was simple and to the point, just the way Richard liked dealing with strangers. He climbed in the passenger side and looked ahead. The man however put out his leather gloved hand and said.

"Truman Marshall."

"Hmm. Richard. Harrow."

"Pleasure to meet you." Marshall replied and he restarted the engine and they moved away, Richards mind went back to the stranded Harris somewhere on the road. Had this man passed him and ignored him? It seemed very likely and this made Richard all the more grateful he had stopped for him.

"Business or pleasure in Philly?" Marshall perked up again.

"Business. Hmm. Always. Business."