Work Text:
Piano Lessons
"It's not fair," little Waverly Earp told him as she threw a rock into the shallow stream, sending the water planning in all directions. "Willa gets to practice shooting with Daddy. Wynonna gets to go to those martial arts classes. Why can't I do something too?"
"You don't need to learn to shoot or fight just yet," Bobo said softly, trying not to cringe too openly at the idea. She was six. She shouldn't even be running around alone like she was, much less holding a gun and learning to kill things. Even he knew that. He just hoped Ward did.
"I don't mean that," the little girl told him, rolling her eyes dramatically.
"Then what do you want to learn to do?" he asked, moving to take a seat next to her.
She frowned a little and ducked her head, suddenly embarrassed. Bobo nudged her. "I promise not to tell," he offered with a wink that brought her smile back. That was better.
"I wanna learn to play piano. Momma started teaching me…. but she left. I wanna learn a song for the talent show at school."
Bobo stared at her for a long moment, his mind spinning. Ward couldn't send her to a lesson or two to learn one song? It seemed simple enough. Waverly was clever. She'd pick it up in no time and it would make her happy. It was simple enough. "What song?"
"Pop Goes the Weasel," she answered quietly.
He hummed lowly, mind working all the angles. It was possible, and he really couldn't deny his Angel anything within his power to give. "Do you have a few hours?"
"Yeah," she answered hesitantly.
"Let's see if we can find you a piano."
His little angel lit up with a smile that stretched across her face. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Really? You know someone that could teach me?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, scooping her as he stood and she giggled as he swung her around to sit on his shoulders. She cheered and he started forward, asking her to tell him all about the talent show as he walked.
It wasn't a short trek out to the old, rundown little church, but it was the only place Bobo knew of that had a piano where they wouldn't be caught by curious eyes. They finally made it though and Waverly nearly piled off his shoulders without his help in her excitement. He eased her down though and she ran up to the door, prying it open and squeaking excitedly as she darted inside.
Bobo was slower to follow, the church holding more bad memories than good. He'd died here, looking for one last chance at hope. He hadn't gotten it though and now he lived steeped in darkness. He'd been a good man, long ago. Now he wasn't sure he knew how to be anymore, even if he had the choice.
But even in the darkness he'd found a little ray of light, and he'd brought her here to make sure that smile didn't fade too long. Oh the irony.
"It's really old," Waverly said as she inspected the piano.
"It'll be out of tune, but it'll work for what you need."
"Are you gonna teach me?" she asked, almost as if she had just realized they were still the only ones there.
He hummed a soft affirmation and he hoped it was true. He hadn't played in years. Over a century now, but surely a song as simple as Pop Goes the Weasel would be easy enough. He remembered playing it for one of his brother's children on one visit that he had made. Funny that Waverly would want to know that very same song now.
"What all do you know?" the little girl asked as she dusted off the bench and took a seat, her feet dangling.
"Mostly hymns," he said and she gave him a funny look he was sure he deserved. "And your song, Angel. Let's see what we got." He folded back the cover over the keys and pressed one finger down. It was off, but not terrible. It would work.
His fingers moved, the old keys sticking and a few sounding worse than others, but muscle memory helped him pick out the old notes. He could almost feel Waverly beaming next to him as he started over, much smoother the second time through.
"You can play!"
He stopped, shooting her a teasing glare. "You thought I was lying to you?"
She grinned at him and giggled as he pulled her in playfully, set her in his lap, and setting his chin on top of her head. "When have I ever lied to you, huh?" he asked and her giggles only increased.
"Never!" she answered when she got her breath back and she leaned back into him. "You'd never lie to me, Bobo."
His smile remained. Never might be a stretch, but he tried to be honest with her. As honest as he could be. He would keep trying for as long as he could.
He cleared his throat and set his fingers back on the keys. "C'mon," he prompted softly and she put hers on top of his do she could follow the keystrokes. It only took a couple more times through before she wanted to try by herself, and only a few times more before she had it mostly right. She was a quick study, just as he'd thought she might be.
The hours got away from them and by the time she was satisfied that she knew the song well enough to practice at home and that she was finally ready to head back towards the Homestead, it was much later than he had anticipated keeping her. Halfway there her feet started dragging and he picked her up, feeling her wrap her arms around his neck and nuzzle in. "Bobo?"
"Yeah, Angel?"
"Who taught you to play?"
"My mother," he answered after a beat of hesitation.
"You never talk about her."
"She's been gone a long time, Angel."
"I'm sorry. What about your daddy?"
"Him too."
She pulled back so she could look at him. "You have anyone left?"
Bobo swallowed hard, but they'd reached the fence line and that was as good of an excuse as any to avoid that subject. He set her down carefully. "Go on. It's getting late. I'll wait until you get to the door."
She turned to look up at him, her expression so innocent and caring. "No one should feel lonely. I'll be your family, Bobo."
He didn't have a chance to respond as she turned, slipped onto Earp land, and darted for the house. Bobo shrank back into the lengthening shadows to make sure she made it alright and stood watching for a long time after the door closed behind her. He didn't deserve that girl. He knew that, but she really was the ray of light he needed.
Notes: This little story came both from a prompt on Tumblr and from a conversation I had with Marvinetta over there about if Bobo could play piano or not and it sort of escalated into this fluffy madness.