Work Text:
What is Real and What Ain't
The spell had washed over them, leaving a chill in the air that anyone inclined couldn't ignore. It crept in and around and over, the Earp Curse leaving the area open for it. If it was Bulshar himself that had cast it or he'd found another witch or demon to do his bidding, they wouldn't know until they got to the bottom of it, but from what they'd seen so far, Bobo had a pretty good idea what the spell was, even if not who was directly responsible.
The town was silent, like everyone had gone to hide in their own homes. Good. Let them stay there. It would keep them out of the way. They all knew how Purgatory reacted when terrified, and that seemed to be exactly what this curse did: creep into a person's mind, find what terrified them the most, and bring it forward. The Earps sisters' pet scientist was still in shock from what he had seen. What they'd all seen. That was the worst part of the visions: your deepest fear was played out for anyone around to see it too, putting everything out on the table and laid bare. That was enough to make Bobo want to end this as soon as possible. Long before the spell got to him and put everything he was afraid of on display. There was certainly a list to choose from.
"Whole town's shut in," Doc Holliday announced what they had already suspected. "Not a soul to be seen."
Jeremy cleared his threat, visibly trying to bring himself back around. "So, uh, how do we break this?"
"We find the asshole that cast it and I shoot him in the face," Wynonna said as she twirled Peacemaker. Her eyes shifted over to Bobo. "Any of your people have this kind of ability?"
"No," he answered tightly. Had the air gotten chillier? It felt like it had. That might mean that the person responsible for the spell was closer. A few fears had crept to the surface of his mind, ones that he didn't want to see played out. Waverly dead. Himself back under Bulshar's control. Staring down the barrel of Peacemaker at the end of this, even after he'd chosen to help them….
"Robert."
His name sliced through the still air and drew his attention. He knew that voice. It had been so many years, but he would never forget it. He couldn't. Blue eyes caught sight of the source of the vocalization and another chill swept through him. Not this. He hadn't even been willing to entertain this one.
"Bobo?" Wynonna called his name out, but he couldn't look away. "Who is that?"
"Wyatt," Holliday breathed. It would have been nice it it had been his fear, but Bobo knew it wasn't. It hadn't been the gunslinger's name he'd called.
A hush fell over them as Wyatt Earp approached, looking just like he had the last time Bobo had seen him. His eyes were fixed on the Revenant leader like they were the only two on the street and he couldn't break away. This wasn't real. Wyatt was dead and in the ground. This wasn't real.
Wyatt's gaze swept him up and down, taking in the changes in the man he'd once called friend. Bobo knew them all well enough, and even he knew that it was more than the style of clothing and hair. It was a change in his very being, and Wyatt could see that. He could tell in the way his eyes narrowed, creases appearing at the corners there and between his brows. The silence from him was painful as he studied Bobo, and somehow the Revenant could felt like he was looking straight into whatever tattered pieces remained of his soul. "Wyatt," he managed, the name breaking as it left his lips. He wasn't real. He had to remember that. This wasn't really him, but damn did it look like him. Sound like him.
"Robert, why? Why would you become this?"
"Bobo," Wynonna called from behind him, but her steps were halted.
"He's gotta face it on his own, Darlin'. We all do."
Bobo straightened, pushing back the hurt that Wyatt's expression stirred. "You know damn well why," he growled, his vision tinting red as he felt the hurt bend to anger. "Real or not, you don't get to pass judgement on me, Wyatt. Not when you've been dead and in the ground nearly ninety years and I've been stuck here."
"And what have you done with it, Robert?"
Real or not, it didn't matter. This felt real. He had thought about what he would say to Wyatt if he could have had the chance. Sometimes he imagined his old friend appearing, as broken as Bobo felt, and an apology on his lips as he pulled him in, embracing him and begging forgiveness for all the hell Robert had been through. For him. All for him. Sometimes Bobo forgave him, but on his darker nights as his imagination played the scenario through, he made Wyatt hurt just a little longer. Bobo had. He'd suffered through it all. Now, as he saw that stony expression on the other man's face, that same anger boiled. "Fought the damned war you started," he snarled, straightening a little and stepping forward, motioning as he spoke. "I took the bullet to take Clootie down. I rallied to make sure he stayed in the ground while you rode off. I fought your war, Wyatt."
Wyatt didn't shrink back. He didn't apologize. There was no sympathy in his eyes or in his tone. "And who are you fighting for now, Robert? Leading the very devils I had to put down, standing by as my son and his son and his were murdered. You think you saved Willa? You damned her as surely as you are."
The words cut and Bobo felt himself falter, a sharp breath escaping him and his jaw snapped closed, teeth clicking together. "I did the best I could," he forced out, feeling the anger being overpowered by a need for Wyatt to understand. He'd fought for him. He'd died for him, and when he'd woken up to find himself cursed and amongst his enemies he had dug in and beat back the urge the curse forced on him. He had done what he had to to rise up and keep things as under control as much as possible, making sure that the Revenants didn't run wild and run Purgatory completely into the ground. He'd remained as loyal as he knew how. And Willa…. nothing hurt more than what had happened to Willa. "I did the best I could with what I was given. You weren't here. I'm only one man," he snarled, his voice more desperate than he cared to admit.
"Not even that. You're a demon. You're everything we were fighting against." Wyatt shook his head, disgust written across his features as he turned. "You just weren't cut out for this. Not strong enough. Doc woulda been."
Bobo felt like he'd been dealt a physical blow. "Wyatt." The name escaped him, pained at the expression his old friend had worn and he reached out, trying to grab at the other man's wrist. Real or not didn't matter anymore. The pain was real, and that was enough.
He didn't stop though and Bobo stumbled forward. He was leaving. He was leaving him all over again. "Wyatt!"
A hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping the forward motion. "It ain't him."
Bobo turned, finding Holliday of all people standing there and he snarled lowly at the man he hated. It didn't phase him, though. Instead he was looking at him with…. understanding? It was a strange expression for John Henry to cast in his direction and Bobo looked away, watching Wyatt's retreating from. "I can still reach him," he mumbled, half to Doc and half to himself. "I can make him see-"
"That ain't Wyatt," Holliday repeated. "This thing… it wants to lead us away. You follow it, and you're done."
"How would you know?" he growled.
"Because I saw him too. When I was looking 'round town. I saw him and he told me he wished I'd stayed in that well. That ain't Wyatt."
Bobo blinked hard, realizing only then that angry tears were starting to cloud his vision. He heard what the other man was saying. He even understood it on a level, but so much of him just needed to make Wyatt see. "I just need him to-"
"He can't. He's gone. He's been gone and we're here. We gotta live with that."
It wasn't comforting. Holliday likely didn't mean for it to be, but it shook him fully back to reality. He looked back to see only an empty street where he had thought he'd seen Wyatt just moments before.
Bobo closed his eyes for a moment, pulling in a steadying breath, and when he opened them again he found several sets of eyes on him including Waverly Earp watching him and she tried for a reassuring smile. His gaze swept over to her sister who squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up. "You with us?" she asked, Peacemaker in her hand, and in that moment she'd never looked more like Wyatt. The real Wyatt, not the one that lingered in Bobo's darkest fears.
"Yeah," he huffed out and she nodded, turning on her heel to continue her march towards the source of the spell, the others falling into step. Wyatt might have left them to clean up the mess, but if he were to place his bet, Bobo was more certain every day that Wynonna would be the one to finish what her great great granddaddy started.
Notes: I've been wanting to write on something that took a look at Bobo's thoughts about Wyatt for a while now, and a conversation brought this around. Brownie points if you can name the quote the one-shot's named after ;)
As always, I'd love to know what you think!