Work Text:
Coming to This
The voices faded in and out, like he was only catching every few words that were being spoken.
"...everything we can. His best hope is rest and time. We'll know more in…."
Robert struggled to focus on the words being spoken. He didn't recognize the voice right off. It was high pitched and a little nasally, but he couldn't see the speaker. He couldn't tell for sure who it was, and for some reason that mattered, almost like his mind was trying to remind him that there could still be danger. Why, he wasn't sure.
"...can't stay," a more familiar voice answered. Wyatt. That was Wyatt.
Suddenly it all came flooding back. They were in Purgatory, facing a sheriff down that the local padre had called a demon. Wyatt hadn't believed him and Robert had certainly been hesitant to, but then he'd seen him. Glowing eyes and cursing tongue, he'd seen evil standing before them.
He had to open his eyes. Had to make sure it was over and that his friend was safe. "Wyatt?" he choked out, struggling desperately to break through that last layer to consciousness.
"Robert. Easy. Take it easy."
The bed he was lying on sank down next to him as he finally forced his eyes open, his friend coming slowly into focus. Wyatt's brows were drawn together, the worry reflected in his eyes as he reached forward, his hand cool against Robert's face. His voice was surprisingly calm. "Look at me. Look right here." He waited half a beat until Robert complied. "Just breathe. You're alright. Doctor says you're gonna be just fine."
The panic subsided just a little. "We got him?"
"We got him. Thanks to you."
Robert loosed a shuddering breath, trying to pull his fractured thoughts together.
"Hey," Wyatt's soft voice brought him back around. "I have to go, but I'll be back, you hear me?"
"He won't remember this conversation, Deputy Marshall," that same voice Robert hadn't recognized mumbled behind his friend.
"That's alright." Wyatt offered a thin smile and Robert felt his hand close in his. "Just hold on for me, alright? I'll be back."
Robert felt the pull of exhaustion on him again and he struggled against it, even as his vision gave. When he opened his eyes again he was alone. "Wyatt?" he called, trying to sit up. Pain exploded through him and his vision blacked out again, his friend's name on his lips.
"Wrong Earp." The voice answered was different. He knew it well, but it didn't fit what he had just seen.
Blue eyes struggled open and their owner groaned. It wasn't his shoulder that hurt and it wasn't a gunshot that had taken him down. Not this time, and the blow that he'd sustained certainly would kill him. That didn't mean that it couldn't hurt.
"I'm going try not to be offended that you just mistook me for my great great grandfather," Wynonna snarked as she straightened from where she had been leaned over him as he came back around, giving the Revenant space to sit up.
Bobo did so, a low growl and a curse escaping him as he brought his hand to his head to inspect any damage. Whatever visible signs might have shown after the blow had already knitted themselves up.
"Bad dreams?" the Heir prompted as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on bent knees. No reason to rush it. It was clear that any of the Revenants that were left from the attack were gone now. They'd either run or been put down by Peacemaker. He and Wynonna had taken their fair show out together before someone had gotten a lucky shot in on him.
"Memories," he huffed and she looked a little surprised at the honest response. It wasn't exactly his forte, but in that moment what did it matter?
"Well," she said as she stuck a hand in his face to offer him help up, "you've got me, not him."
He looked up at her for a moment, hearing the frustration in her tone. She thought she had to struggle to match up. She had no idea how closely she already came. Wynonna was more like Wyatt than she could possibly know. Certainly more than any other Heir he'd come into contact with.
That both complicated and simplified things for him, but for now, it meant they were aligned. As Bobo grasped her hand, standing and surveying the chaos that had been left in the wake of the Bulshar-loyal Revenants attacking the Earp Heir and Bobo Del Rey, he knew it had always been coming to this.
Notes: I'm not sure if I should apologize for the overload of fanfiction that will be coming your way the next few days? I received about 10 or 11 prompts in my Tumblr inbox and I'm desperately trying to fulfill them before Wednesday when The Blacklist comes back on air. I'm not 100% sure how that's going to affect my writing for this series because I tend to write quite a bit for the Blacklist. And because neither FFN or AO3 allow for queuing stories, they're getting posted when I can. Hopefully that's not a bad thing?