Work Text:
The sun was setting and she needed a place to stay, soon. Nights were unkind these days. Wind whipped around her face and reminded her to get a move on. More likely to get sick during those cold nights.
Thick trees sprung up on either side of the train tracks. The endless tracks Waverly had been following for days now, hoping they'd lead her somewhere useful. So far, no such luck.
A spot of white caught her eye, and she ran toward it. Out of breath, she stood in front of a red brick Victorian one story with white trim. Curious place for a home like this. But thank god it was here.
Raising her shotgun, she approached the front door with caution. Could be someone already found this place. Could be someone waited around the corner, watching, piece trained on her.
Door creaked loud as she pushed it opened. She winced, uttered a mental “dammit!”
“Don't move,” the familiar cock of a pistol stopped in her tracks, along with a quiet, cold voice behind her. Must have been watching her approach, hid outside, waiting.
“Just need a place to stay, that's it,” Waverly held her shotgun in surrender. Wasn't the case with most nowadays, but she meant no harm.
The gun was lifted from her hands.
“Turn. Slow.” A feminine voice, real nice one, Waverly had to admit, but still cold and biting.
She turned to face the person she'd intruded on. First thing she noticed was hair. Bright hair, beautiful auburn that looked like the sun in the evening, when you just want to sit and take in the beauty of the colors.
“Can't stay here. Place is mine, been mine for a long time now,” the stranger’s face was was beautiful, but hardened, deep pain in the lines and darkened circles under her brown eyes.
Waverly's caution was quickly joined with resolute anger. She was damn tired, finished with this day, even the gun aimed at her head was more annoying than frightening at this point.
“Listen, I've been out all day. Been separated from my people couple weeks now. I'll be gone in the morning. I need to sleep, that's it. You can keep that tonight if it makes you feel better.”
Something shifted in the stranger’s face, what it was, Waverly wasn't sure. But the woman softened, just a bit.
“I'm keepin’ this. Stay where I can see you.”
She holstered the gun on the hip of her ripped black jeans, pushed past Waverly as she walked through the door. It led into a big open room, not much to see. A fireplace wall separated a kitchen and dining area from the front room. Waverly followed, took note of her surroundings as she always did. Tally marks covered an entire wall, the only thing which peaked her interest here in this first room. They were so many they began flooding onto another wall. Tally marks like the ones in her notebook. But countless more.
“Um, I'm Waverly,” she was not trying to make friends, but a new acquaintance in those times never went amiss.
Especially that particular day. Two weeks since she'd last spoken to anyone, anyone friendly, that is. Who knew how long it'd been for this stranger.
The woman turned, looked in her eyes a moment before responding, “Nicole.”
Nicole. Nice name.
Nicole peeled an old, whitewashed jean vest off, threw it on top of an even older mattress. She opened a large trunk and dug through it, produced a blanket which she threw directly at Waverly, set the shotgun inside and closed it.
“Over there,” she pointed to the end of the room opposite of the mattress, away from her. Waverly gathered that was where she wanted her to stay. Away from her own self.
Waverly was not in the mood for arguments, frankly grateful Nicole had chosen to let her in.
“Thank you,” Waverly's eyes sought out Nicole's in an attempt to convey her true gratefulness.
Barely craning her neck, Nicole found truthful, hazel eyes offering up their sincerest thanks. She simply nodded in return.
Something tightened in Waverly's chest when their eyes met. A feeling, one she’d never felt before. Like someone had just pushed all the air out of her lungs and shoved her stomach down deep. But even so, it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling.
Who is this woman? What happened to her?
Waverly lay on her back. The wind howled, branches whipping against the windows. She was grateful for the night’s shelter even more. She wondered how long this woman had been alone. So many tally marks on those walls. And her abrupt nature told Waverly she was, indeed, alone, for a long while.
She herself had only been on her own a couple of weeks now, and the ache in her heart to see her people was growing. If the marks on the walls were anything to go by, she couldn't imagine the ache in Nicole's heart, if that's how long she'd been here, alone. She couldn't help but hurt for her. A sudden urge to hug her until the pain in her eyes and her face went away startled Waverly.
She didn't know her. All Waverly knew about this woman was that her name was Nicole. And that she was lonely.
And beautiful.
The old house moaned and groaned against the wind. The windows were boarded up. Smart. Winds could break those on nights like these, which were often. Staring at the ceiling, she suddenly became aware of a gradual creaking overhead. A different kind of moaning. One that said move, get out of the way. Her eyes followed the sound, across long beams of the open ceiling.
That one.
Before she had time to think about over her actions, she jumped up, ran across the room, roughly pulled Nicole from her sleep.
Nicole pulled away defensively, slapped Waverly’s face out of pure instinct.
Waverly held her face. “Move!” She grabbed Nicole’s arms and pulled with all her might, dragging her across the room, aware of the increasing volume in the groaning above them.
They fell onto Waverly’s blanket just as the support beam that had been directly above Nicole fell with a loud crash.
The groaning died down, Waverly opened her eyes and saw Nicole, covering her own body, head ducked to the side of Waverly’s. She tapped Nicole’s arm gently, the brown eyes rose to meet her’s. They turned to see where the beam had landed. A cold shiver went down Nicole’s spine when she saw where she lay just a moment ago.
It would have killed her.
“Why’d you slap me!?” Waverly cut the silence, and Nicole realized she was still laying on top of the smaller woman. She quickly scrambled off. Waverly sat up, they sat facing each other.
Nicole almost brought her hand up to touch where she’d slapped the woman in her half sleeping state, but she refrained. “Sorry,” she muttered, sheepishly. Her heart was pounding, she told herself it was from nearly being smashed to death by her own house, and not the beautiful woman she’d instinctively laid on top of to protect.
She stood and walked to the fallen beam, kneeled down.
Waverly slowly approached, dust and dirt filled the air and she covered her face with her hands. Nicole traced her fingers over a spot on the wood. Waverly leaned closer.
“I should have kissed you here,” it was carved deep in the wood.
Ironic. Something so lovely almost being the death of her. Then again, it was quite sad. Nicole stood and huffed, grabbed a blanket, a big coat, and stalked towards the door.
Waverly watched until she realized Nicole obviously had something in mind. She grabbed her own blanket and coat and followed.
“Wait!” Waverly pulled her coat over her shoulders, barely any shield against the wind and the biting cold. “Where are you going?”
Nicole called back, “storm shelter!” She knelt in the grass, pulled branches away from a rickety wooden door in the ground, opened it and disappeared. Waverly ran after her.
“Thanks for the invite,” Waverly grumbled, as she ducked under the frame, Nicole shut and locked the doors, trying to ignore the feeling brought on by Waverly brushing up against her.
They situated themselves as comfortably as possible in the little storm shelter, not built for many people. Both sat with their backs against the walls, eyes shut, holding blankets tight for warmth. The little shelter clearly hadn’t been used in some time, a musty smell permeated the air. Waverly tried to ignore it, tried to sleep. But adrenaline was pumping and she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding.
From almost dying…
“Who do you think did that?”
Waverly’s voice broke the silence. Nicole groaned. Was she going to do this all night?
“What?”
“That carving. It’s romantic. Kinda nice.”
Nicole opened her eyes, Waverly looked at her wistfully. She groaned again. Apparently.
“I don’t know. Some teenagers?” She closed her eyes again, hoping the answer satisfied the woman.
Why do you want to know?
“Mm, I don’t think so. Too heartfelt.”
Nicole opened her eyes once more, now she was curious. “Teenagers can’t be heartfelt?”
She’s probably right.
Waverly cocked her head. “That’s not what I meant,” she leaned back again, staring off at nothing. “I see an older man. He met the love of his life, but he never did anything, never touched her, never kissed her, never told her how he felt.”
Nicole studied Waverly’s face. “Why not?”
Why am I still talking to you...
Waverly seemed to be daydreaming, because Nicole’s question almost startled her. “Huh?”
“Why didn’t he tell her?” A hint of pain tinged her voice, her brows drew deep.
Don’t stop talking...
Waverly paused a moment, thinking over the question. Suddenly she shifted, moved from her sitting position. Holding her arm out, Nicole stopped her from moving any closer, a wary face.
“If I wanted you dead, I would’a let that beam fall on you,” Waverly sighed, “it’s freezing in here. Body warmth.” She looked at Nicole with a “duh” expectant face, waiting for a response. She rolled her eyes, “oh my god, what am I gunna do? Smother you?”
Nicole made a face that said “I don’t know, maybe” and Waverly scoffed. She scooted closer, next to a hesitant Nicole. Her entire body went stiff, Waverly took her hand, her thumb softly stroking the the back of her palm.
“I’m not gunna kill you,” her brows rose, features still so gentle. Nicole eased. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed being so near a person until that moment.
Now settled in their new positions, she continued the conversation, “maybe she already had someone.”
Nicole picked at the blanket threads, almost nervous to feel this comfortable with a stranger by her side. “Maybe he hadn’t loved someone in too long.”
Waverly raised a brow.
“Maybe it’d been so long, he forgot how. Or it hurt, to love again.” Nicole looked down at her arm. Waverly had absent-mindedly began running her hand over it. It was nice. Good. Normal.
“Hm.” Waverly paused, her forehead creased in thought. Nicole wondered what it was she was thinking that made her face do that. She didn’t have to wonder long. “Those tally marks, on your walls, is that long you’ve been alone?” Waverly peered up into Nicole’s face, the torment and aching in her eyes would have been overwhelming to behold if there were more light in that little shelter.
Nicole stared at the wall in front of them. She wouldn’t let her emotions get the best of her, not here, not now, not with this stranger.
“I ask because - I have a notebook, and I’ve been keeping track the same way. You have quite a few more, though.” Pause. “I’m sorry.” She whispered the last two words like maybe she wasn’t quite sure she should say it.
Letting her head fall back and hit the dirt wall, Nicole shut her eyes tight, willing the memories to go away. “Just over two years. I wasn’t always alone. She - she got sick.”
Waverly moved a bit so she could see her face. “I’m so sorry.” She squeezed Nicole’s hands, held onto them. Nicole’s heart beat harder.
Nicole gulped down her fear of the past. “You said you have people. How did get you separated from them?”
Waverly made a silent “oh,” settled back against the wall, leaning on Nicole. It was oddly comforting, to both of them. “We were attacked, bastards took me.”
The information startled Nicole, and all of sudden she felt the need to check Waverly over, make sure she was okay. Waverly noticed the change, Nicole shifting and looking at her with a concerned expression. She smiled, squeezed the hands again that she still held.
“I’m okay. I kind of - well - I killed them. But in my defense, they were shit tickets and by the sound of things, they’d - well, I think they were cannibals.” Waverly’s face ranged from defensive to grimacing at the reveal. “They uh - they had a few other people locked up. They didn’t make it.” Her voice drifted, her hand held Nicole’s tighter.
“Hey,” she turned so the brunette would look at her, “you tried.”
They stilled, just gazing into the other’s face, the hurt and pain and fears all spilling out like tears for the other to see. Strangers, but such familiar ones. Something in both their hearts seemed to pull, like a law of nature, toward the other.
“You think he ever kissed her?” Waverly’s voice was barely more than a whisper, “the man from that carving?”
Nicole forced her heart back down in her chest. “I hope so.”
Waverly rested her head against Nicole’s shoulder as they leaned back again, drifting quickly. Nicole peered down at the face, such a beautiful face, lovely, kind.
Who are you?
Nicole wanted to press a kiss to the top of that head, so badly. She didn’t even know why. Maybe because she’d forgotten how to talk to a real person, and here was this woman, making her feel like she’d never been alone at all.
She leaned against the soft hair, slowly drifted to sleep, and for the first time in months, she dreamt of something besides darkness.
Nicole peeled her eyes open and was greeted by light streaming through storm cellar doors - open. Blinking rapidly, she looked around.
No…
She was alone. Again.
It took less than two seconds for her to groggily pull herself up and out of the shelter, desperately searching out the figure that had fallen asleep by her side. Who had taken away her loneliness, if just for the night.
Cautiously she entered the house, went to the trunk where she’d stashed the shotgun. Gone. Course it was. She was. No reason to stay. She carefully made her way towards the beam.
“I should have kissed you here”
Her fingers traced the words lightly, mind wondering if she’d even met that woman at all. If Waverly was even real, or it was a trick of her tired, lonely mind.
How many days had she fallen asleep and woken up by herself now? How many days since someone leaned against her, since she breathed in the scent of another human? She’d become accustomed to it, the loneliness. She’d become accustomed to holding conversations with herself, with inanimate objects, with nature.
Then she had a real one. That woman talked to her and sat next to her and touched her. Nicole wasn’t a sap. Well, maybe a long time ago she was. But hardened, lonely days broke that. Then she looked into hazel eyes that burned of passion and curiosity, and suddenly she felt something familiar. Felt something that she’d long forgotten.
Happiness.
Just the slightest hint of it, a reminder that it was still there, buried deep down. Just took the right person the dig it out.
She made her way to the tally wall. One more day.
---Seven Weeks Later---
“This is it,” Waverly stopped running, her words were silent.
Please still be here.
Red brick, white trim.
Nicole…
She turned and waited for Wynonna to catch up.
“Wait here. I just want - I wanna see if she’s still there.” She missed her. She missed her so damn much. She knew her less than a day but something inside her pulled her back, yanked at her soul and told her she had to find her again.
Wynonna eyed the house suspiciously. “You sure?” Waverly nodded. Wynonna pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Get go ‘em, tiger.” Wynonna winked and smacked Waverly’s butt as she walked away.
Waverly approached the house, noting the difference instantly.
A little porch. She stepped closer, close enough to recognize the top wooden beam, the note scratched into it.
“I should have kissed you here”
Just beneath it, a new inscription:
“Me too”
Waverly’s breath caught in her lungs, tears stung her eyes.
“You left.”
Waverly nearly jumped up and turned to find Nicole, leaning against the wall at the opposite side of the little porch. She looked back down at her hands, then to Nicole.
“My sister, I had to find her.” And if I woke you, I wouldn’t have been able to leave you, she thought, but didn’t verbalize.
Nicole nodded, she crossed her arms over her chest. “You didn’t say good bye.”
Damnit.
Maybe the one thing she wanted to avoid. Her nerves flustered her speech.
“I just - I didn’t think - I needed to find her and -”
Nicole dropped her arms and took a step forward, “I could have helped you, find her.”
Waverly’s face changed from nervousness to realization.
She wanted me to stay…
“ - Really?”
Another step closer. “Yeah.”
Waverly’s eyes skirted around in anticipation. “Do you think he ever kissed her?”
Nicole held Waverly’s gaze. “I know he did.”
She stepped forward once and was met with Waverly’s whole body, quickly pressed against her’s. Their lips met and flowed, like the ocean, slow and steady, then fast and deliberate but none less beautiful or passionate.
Now just an inch apart, Nicole breathed Waverly in, breathed in the pure fact that she wasn’t alone. That she came back.
For her.
Waverly bumped Nicole’s nose with her own. “I like what you did with the place.”