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Jab, straight, hook. Jab, straight, hook. Left hook, right hook, roundhouse kick to the side. Wynonna deflected Nicole’s hits like she could see them coming. The police station was quiet, save for the grunts and pants coming from the sparring partners. It was an ungodly hour in the morning, long before the sun was set to rise, yet both Nicole and Wynonna found themselves stumbling through the station doors minutes apart. The silence was too loud and too isolating for them to be comfortable in their homes.
It was Nicole who suggested they train. Her communication with Wynonna had been set on pause since she discovered Waverly’s disappearance, her anger building slowly within her, so Wynonna was surprised when Nicole asked if she wanted to spar. Maybe it was a bad idea to spar with an elietly trained police officer in much better shape than herself, but Wynonna saw she had no other options for the time being, and saying no to an angry Nicole Haught wasn’t something she found appealing.
Nicole threw punches and kicks at rapid fire speed, catching Wynonna off guard and causing her to inch backwards toward the edge of the blue mat beneath their feet. Wynonna kept up as fast as she could, blocking any direct punches or high kicks she saw coming. It wasn’t until Nicole kicked a foot out from underneath her that Wynonna lost her focus and tumbled to the ground with a grunt.
“The hell, Haught?” Wynonna panted as she rolled onto her back.
“You lose your focus like that out there and,” Nicole snapped her fingers, “boom. You’re dead.”
“The curse is broken, Nicole,” Wynonna grumbled. “There’s no demons running loose that I need to protect myself against.”
“No, but they could come back at any moment. The broken curse, Bulshar, all of it could have been a ruse.”
“Bulshar wasn’t fake. And the curse is over. This shizzle is for real,” Wynonna slowly rose to her feet and brushed herself off.
“So you admit it then,” Nicole nodded and grabbed her water bottle. “You said this is all real, which means Waverly is really stuck in the garden.”
“Haught – ” Wynonna sighed.
“No, no,” Nicole held a hand up to stop Wynonna, “it’s fine. You know you fucked up. That’s good.”
“I never said I fucked up,” Wynonna said as she watched Nicole reach for a towel on a table across the room.
“So you’re saying you don’t think you did?” Nicole countered, wiping her forehead with the towel.
“I never said that either. All I said was that I made a mistake.”
“Which means you fucked up,” Nicole turned around and grabbed her things before starting toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Wynonna grabbed Nicole’s arm when she passed and stopped her.
“To shower? I have to clock in soon,” Nicole replied.
“It’s four in the morning. Your shift doesn’t start until six,” Wynonna pulled Nicole back and stared her down. “This was your shitty idea. You’re not bailing after only thirty minutes.”
“I’m the new sheriff of this town who’s stressing about filling the shoes of the man who served before me, and my girlfriend is trapped in a magical, mystical, biblical garden with a vampire who craves angel blood,” Nicole snapped at Wynonna. “You don’t get to dictate what I do. We both know you’ve done enough of that.”
“I’m sorry that I royally screwed us over, but –”
“But what, Wynonna?” Nicole gripped the towel tighter in her hand. “Half our team is gone, leaving us with a scientist, his poorly trained park ranger of a boyfriend, the former Earp heir, and myself. It’s your fault she got taken and there’s nothing you can say to change that.”
“They,” Wynonna snapped back. “ They got taken. Waverly isn’t the only one missing.”
“Oh, right, your ex-boyfriend turned vampire is stuck in there with her too. The man who killed Waverly’s father and ran around town in search of more angel blood. The man who is now trapped in the Garden of Eden, with no fucking way out , with an angel. Let’s not forget that,” Nicole chuckled humorlessly and shook her head.
“Listen, Nedley 2.0, I get that Doc isn’t necessarily the good guy right now, but he wouldn’t hurt Waverly. So stop blaming me for him going in there when he went on his own god damn accord.”
“It doesn’t matter who’s fault it is!” Nicole threw her hands in the air. “The point is that Waverly is trapped with Doc and we have not even the first clue how to get them out!”
Wynonna stared at Nicole, the gears in her head turning. She chewed on her words, as if tasting them before spitting them out to hit Nicole in the face. Instead of walking on eggshells, Wynonna decided to lay it out on the table as it was; she couldn’t play this game much longer.
“Well maybe if you’d have better instincts, I wouldn’t have had to drug you and you could have been there to help me keep her out,” Wynonna said, her voice calm and smooth.
“What did you just say?” Nicole’s head snapped in Wynonna’s direction, brows furrowed.
“I said, if you weren’t such a shit cop then maybe Waverly would still be here.”
“Oh... Oh so now it’s my fault that Waverly is gone?” Nicole threw her towel and water bottle on the ground and stepped up to Wynonna, getting close to her face. “That’s really rich coming from you, Earp.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Wynonna clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides.
“Maybe if you actually took time to make a decent plan, one that wasn’t formulated while you were drunk off your ass, neck deep in a bottle of whiskey, then Waverly might actually still be here,” Nicole spat, her words laced with venom.
Wynonna’s eyes darkened and she took a fistful of Nicole’s tank top in her hand. “There’s a reason we kept you in the dark for so long, you know. We didn’t feel like you belonged. We didn’t think you’d be much help, what with your impulsive desire to always be the one in charge and all.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Maybe you aren’t good enough for Waverly afterall.”
“I said to shut your fucking mouth,” Nicole repeated, her voice louder.
“I don’t think you’re worthy enough to be with my sister. You’re not good enough. You ruin everything and she was ripped from my life because of it.”
Nicole’s vision became blurred as she was overcome with anger. All she saw was red as she lifted a fist, swinging it forward and making contact with Wynonna’s jaw. Wynonna’s body went slack as she fell to the ground, her hand falling from Nicole’s shirt. She hit the floor with a thud! and Nicole was on top of her in seconds.
“You don’t get the dictate who Waverly ends up being with!” Nicole yelled as she punched Wynonna again. “Only she can determine my worthiness for her. Not you.”
“Get your hands off of me, Haught,” Wynonna grumbled and struck Nicole low in the gut with her elbow.
“Take back what you said,” Nicole gritted through her teeth and took a fistful of Wynonna’s shirt in her hand. “Take it back you asshole!”
“I can’t take back what’s true,” Wynonna snapped and reached up, gripping Nicole’s shirt.
“You know, Waverly was always talking about how everyone leaves her, how she’s trained herself to not get attached to people because all they ever do is leave. There’s no reason for people to leave her. But you?” Nicole let a low laugh escape her throat. “You...deserve to have everyone in your life leave. All you do is push people away, push them to their breaking point and then run away without giving three fucks about what happens.”
Wynonna’s eyes widened before they were filled with tears. A second later, her eyes narrowed and were full of anger. Nicole’s mouth hung open slightly, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, as if she couldn’t believe the words spilling from her mouth.
The worst part of it was that she couldn’t stop.
“You ruin everything,” Nicole spat. “ You should be stuck in the garden. Not Waverly!”
In an instant, Wynonna seized Nicole’s shoulders and shoved her back, using her foot to kick Nicole’s legs out from underneath her. Wynonna surged forward and tackled Nicole back down as the redhead tried to clamor to her feet, her fist immediately making contact with Nicole’s face.
“You don’t think I wish it was me stuck in there instead of her, Haught?!” Wynonna yelled, delivering another punch to Nicole’s face. “You don’t think I haven’t woken up every single day since I lost her thinking that it should’ve been me?!”
Nicole started up at Wynonna, eyes wide and mouth agape. She stuttered to get words out of her mouth, to say something that could fix this, but nothing came out. Wynonna’s face, dripping with sweat, contorted with anger and confusion, her eyes burning holes into Nicole.
“Every goddamn second of every day I wish it were me! I should have gone, I should have protected her. And now I have to live with the guilt of knowing that I’m the one responsible for my baby sister, the only real family I have left in this fucked up world, getting taken and ripped away from us...away from me . Nice try, Nicole, but nobody hates me more right now than I hate myself.”
“Stop pitying yourself and do something about the problem,” Nicole said, immediately regretting it. Wynonna’s eyes narrowed and she swung her fist again, this time making contact with Nicole’s eye.
Nicole’s reflexes were slowed dramatically, her head growing foggy from the consistent blows Wynonna had landed on her. She felt like she was drunk or drugged or a combination of both. Her vision was blurry, her head pounding, her body aching. Nicole knew she fucked up, but she didn’t know what to do or what to say; everything coming from her mouth only made things worse. Wynonna went for another punch, but Nicole managed to move her head to the side, nearly missing the strike. Wynonna cursed under her breath as her fist collided with the station floor, the blue mat beneath them doing little to soften the blow.
“You should have never come back to Purgatory,” Wynonna said finally.
“Well I did, and I’m not leaving,” Nicole replied before shoving Wynonna off of her. The two women slowly rose to their feet in silence, eyes lingering on each other.
“Why were you saved at the massacre? Why did Bulshar find you so special, huh?” Wynonna quipped, breathless. “Were you working for him this entire time? Were you involved in Dolls’ death?”
“How dare you,” Nicole said, voice cold and weak. “I loved Dolls.”
“And you love Waverly too, yeah?” Nicole nodded. “Well they’re both gone now. I’m starting to see a pattern here.”
“Are you seriously pinning me as a double agent?” Nicole scoffed.
“Anything is possible,” Wynonna shrugged. “I mean look at Rosita.”
“I have remained loyal to you and this team since day one. I’ve done more for this team than you will ever acknowledge because you will never be able to get it through your thick skull that I belong here.”
“Nedley should have left you in the woods,” Wynonna spat.
Nicole’s sucked in a sharp breath and pounced on Wynonna, fists gripping her shirt.
“What the fuck did I ever do to you?” Nicole shouted, tears spilling from her eyes. “Why do you resent me so much?”
“You’re a raging bitch, that’s what,” Wynonna gripped Nicole’s forearms. “I should have never come back to Purgatory. I should have never let myself become friends with a cop.”
Nicole reared her fist back, and was about to bring it down upon Wynonna’s face once more, when the door to the office flew open and an anxious and panicked looking Jeremy and Robin ran in.
“Nicole!” Jeremy yelled. “Nicole, stop!”
“So go then!” Nicole yelled. “Leave like you always do when things get tough!”
Nicole jerked her head down when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her abdomen, pulling her away. Jeremy grunted from behind her, using all of his strength to tear Nicole’s tall frame away from Wynonna. Nicole had a death grip on Wynonna and refused to let go until she began to feel lightheaded. She swayed slightly as she allowed Jeremy to pull her away, watching as Robin did the same to Wynonna. Nicole’s body went still, frozen as the realization of what just happened set in. Nicole’s legs went stiff, her breathing unsteady, as she tripped over her foot. She fell to the ground with a grunt, Jeremy not far behind her. She laid still, eyes focusing on the light fixtures above on the ceiling.
Jeremy hovered over her, his anxious words muffled in her ears as blood rushed to her head. She groaned to let him know she was okay and blindly searched for his hand. The adrenaline was subsiding and she was starting to feel pain in every joint, every muscle, of her body. She tasted something metallic on her tongue when she licked her lips. Blood. Anger shot through her body at the revelation. Wynonna had busted her lip wide open.
“Nicole, can you hear me?” Jeremy’s muffled words made their way to Nicole’s ears. “Blink once if you can’t move.”
Nicole didn’t move, she couldn’t move, as shock and fear and anger clawed at her hands and feet, nailing her to the floor. Jeremy kept talking, kept asking her if she was okay, but she stayed quiet. He pulled a flashlight out of his lab coat pocket and shined it in her left eye first, then her right.
“Shit your eye is bad,” she heard him mutter. “She got you right above your right eye, Nicole. You might need stitches.”
“‘m fine,” Nicole muttered finally. “Water?”
Jeremy helped her sit up and leaned her back against the leg of a table behind her. He grabbed Nicole’s water bottle and handed it to her, urging her to drink as much as she could. Nicole didn’t argue and drained the bottle’s contents in seconds.
“Okay well the good news is that it doesn’t seem like you have a concussion,” Jeremy started.
“There’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere. What’s the bad news?” Nicole groaned.
“Your lip is pretty busted. And she got you right above the eye. You might need stitches, but I won’t be able to tell until you clean it up.”
“What about her?” Nicole asked, voice hoarse.
“She doesn’t look any better than you,” Jeremy replied looking over his shoulder at Wynonna slumped back against the wall, Robin leaning over her. “What happened with you two?”
“Waverly,” Nicole whispered as if the name were cursed.
“What about her?” Jeremy asked as he put his flashlight away. Nicole stared at him, her eyes glaring holes through his body. “Okay okay, sorry for asking,” Jeremy held his hands up.
“How do you do it?” Nicole asked after a moment of silence.
“Do what?” Jeremy replied.
“ That ,” Nicole gestured to him vaguely. “Act like everything is okay? How are you not falling apart without her?”
“Because-” Jeremy paused, choosing his words carefully. “Because I don’t believe she’s actually gone.”
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt like hell,” Nicole snapped at him. “It doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like she’s not.”
“I know, but that doesn’t give you the right to just...beat Wynonna up because of it. It doesn’t give Wynonna the right to come at you either,” Jeremy added quickly before Nicole could argue.
“I know. You’re right,” Nicole sighed. “It’s just...so hard, Jeremy. And I don’t even know what it’s like for Wynonna. To lose a sister, two sisters, at the hands of demonic forces. I don’t deserve to be feeling this way when Wynonna is over there mourning the loss of her sister.”
“Waverly might be Wynonna’s sister, but she’s your girlfriend, Nicole.”
“Fiancée, actually,” Nicole mumbled and she could have sworn she saw Jeremy smile for half a second.
“The point is that you lost someone important to you, too. And I know what you’re feeling. I can’t empathize with Wynonna, but I can with you. I lost my best friend and I...I have no idea what to do with myself.”
“You seem to be getting along just fine,” Nicole mumbled.
“Yeah, because it’s what she would want,” Jeremy said, his eyes taking on an empty look. “Waverly wouldn’t want us fighting, she wouldn’t want us killing ourselves with work or attacking our friends.”
“She’d want us to find a way to get her back,” Nicole added. “To do the Waverly Earp thing and do our research.”
Jeremy smiled at Nicole and sat on the floor across from her, legs crossed. “No one is asking you to be strong, Nicole, especially not me, but you stooping to the level Bulshar would have wanted you to go to...to turn on the one person who is being affected by this just as much as you...is not who you are. It isn’t what you need to be doing.”
“She started it,” Nicole said, folding her arms tight across her chest.
“I don’t care who started it, the point is that I’m ending it. I may be significantly smaller than you on several levels, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. Dolls was our brawns, and Waverly was our brains. With both of them gone now, and Doc, you’re the next person to keep us upright. And that needs to start with you and Wynonna pushing past all of this anger you have toward each other.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Nicole sighed, “but not now. Not until I get my head back on my shoulders.”
“We have time,” Jeremy promised. “Robin and I have been doing some research on the garden and we’ve found nothing that raised any red flags about possible immediate danger Waverly could be in.”
Nicole remained silent, eyes trained on the other woman across the room. Robin was saying something and Wynonna had a death grip on his arm, mumbling something incoherent. She tightened her jaw and sucked a sharp breath in through her nose, releasing it slowly through her mouth. She ignored the sharp pain in her chest and stomach as she nodded, a silent indicator that she had heard Jeremy’s words. Understanding that Nicole was exhausted and in pain, Jeremy nodded and stood up to offer his hand to the redhead.
“Go get yourself cleaned up. Take a hot shower to relieve the pain in your muscles. When you’re finished, stop by the office so I can properly check that eye out, alright?”
Nicole nodded and took the proffered hand, slowly rising to her feet. “Thanks, Jeremy,” she mumbled before limping off to the showers.
- - - - -
One, two, three, four...
Nicole counted the empty beer bottles in her living room, scattered about on the floor and coffee table before her. She uncapped her fifth beer and tossed the metal bottle cap into a pile with the others. She sat on the floor of the room, back pressed against the couch behind her and legs stretched out in front of her. The room was dark save for the light pouring in from the kitchen, and Fleetwood Mac played as a distant sound in the background, its record crackling as each song ended and the next began. Bringing the bottle to her lips, Nicole tilted her head back and downed half its contents in one swig, humming as the pale substance slid down her throat and warmed her chest.
Three weeks it had been since her fight with Wynonna, which meant Waverly had now been missing for two months. Well, two months, seven days, and sixteen hours to be exact. Not that anyone was counting. Except Nicole was counting. She had counted each excruciating minute that passed by without Waverly, each long day and sleepless night passing by without the light of her life. Tension with Wynonna had subsided, but barely. They had moved from snarky comments in the halls of the station to quick glances and barely there smiles from across the room. They’d spoken once or twice since that brutal morning, but neither could find the strength to hold conversation long enough without getting heated again.
Nicole’s lip had healed, leaving no trace of injury whatsoever, but her eye left behind a scar, a constant reminder every time she looked in the mirror of how low she had allowed herself to stoop. Nicole was angry with herself, regretting the things she did and said to Wynonna, but she would never be the first to admit she was wrong. She was a cop, a defender of the law and all citizens those laws protect, but that didn’t mean Nicole was always one to acknowledge when she was wrong. Her neglectful parents were right about one thing when they said Nicole had a hard head, a skull so thick that a jackhammer couldn’t even break through.
So she bottled up her feelings and only let them escape when she was alone. Jeremy had told her she was the one they relied on now, that she was the next best person to both Waverly and Dolls, and she hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she was the furthest thing from the next best person. Nicole might seem calm and collected on the outside, but that’s what years of emotional neglect and intense police training will do to a person. She’s had her feelings heavily guarded since she was young and has always put others before herself, never focusing on her own issues until she knew everyone else was okay first.
It had worked for the better deal of her life and becoming a cop had certainly helped to distract her mind from conjuring up depressing thoughts, kept her from turning against herself. And then Waverly Earp walked into her life, drenched in beer and stuttering like a fool, and turned her world upside down in every right way possible. Waverly broke her open, she tore down Nicole’s guards and made her realize that it was okay to be vulnerable. Waverly made her feel safe and sane and okay for feeling the ways she did. Waverly only proved to be a temporary fix, though, and Nicole found herself leaning more on Wynonna for support which, in turn, caused her to lean on Wynonna’s coping mechanisms more as well.
Drinking and moping, moping and drinking, crying while drinking and moping. Wynonna opened Nicole’s eyes to the world of whiskey soaked and reckless thoughts to numb her mind of the pain she really felt. Normally, she wouldn’t get drunk. Normally, the thought of even consuming more than one or two drinks at a time made her roll her eyes. Normally, she’d prefer water to alcohol.
But this wasn’t normally. This was a shit sandwich. A ballsey situation at best and a shit show at worst. Nicole downed the rest of her beer and grabbed for another one, her hand hitting the floor. She felt around for a bottle but there were no more, she had reached the end of her pile. Grunting, Nicole stood up and stumbled toward the kitchen. She tore the fridge door open and leaned forward, staring at the nearly empty space before her. There was a carton of eggs, some baby carrots, and a few styrofoam boxes full of leftovers. She slammed the fridge door shut, frustrated she was out of beer, and reached above the appliance to grasp the half empty bottle of whiskey there. She tossed the lid behind her and leaned back against the counter.
Waverly was gone and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She wasn’t smart enough to do extensive research, to find a way to open those gates back up and pull the love of her life back out. Jeremy was the science guy, the one who came up with the theories and found the nearly impossible information they were missing. Nicole wasn’t good at anything but keeping people safe, and even that wasn’t true these days. If she were truly good at her job, Waverly would still be there. Maybe Wynonna was right when she said she was a shit cop. If she were a good cop, then her instincts would have told her to not drink the shots Wynonna had spiked, she would have kept Jeremy, Robin, and herself from getting kidnapped.
Memories from those times flashed across her mind like a slideshow. Images of blood and knives and darkness clouded her vision and the hand that wasn’t grasping the whiskey bottle flew to her forehead, as if slapping herself would make the thoughts go away.
“She’s gone. She’s not coming back,” the voice in her head said.
“That isn’t true,” Nicole replied.
“It’s too late, and it’s all your fault.”
“That isn’t true,” Nicole repeated, her voice rising.
“She’s already dead.”
“You’re lying!” Nicole screamed and covered her ears, dropping the whiskey bottle in the process.
The bottle hit the ground and shattered, its amber contents pooling on the floor before her. Nicole jumped at the sound and attempted to pick up the glass before grabbing a towel and wiping up as much of the alcohol as she could. Her phone pinged from the living room for what felt like the millionth time, as Wynonna sent text after text trying to get Nicole to reply. Her phone chimed three more times and Nicole nearly snarled as she stood up straight and threw the wet rag back into the sink.
Charging into the living room, Nicole picked up her phone and stared at the screen as it lit up with Wynonna’s name. The phone vibrated vigorously in her hand, its ringtone battling with Stevie Nicks in the background. She let the phone go to voicemail and a minute later it began ringing again. Nicole threw her phone across the room, then, hearing it hit the wall before falling to the floor. She let out a loud, strangled sob and pulled at her shirt. She hadn’t changed since yesterday, having not gone into the station that morning as her anxiety left her paralyzed.
Nicole dropped to her knees in an instant, gripping the carpet beneath her, and cried. She cried and screamed and banged on the floor because she was sad, but most of all she was angry . She wasn’t angry at Wynonna or Bulshar or the Earp curse, she was angry with herself . She had spent the last two months bottling up her emotions, remaining calm and collected on the outside, but one could only hold on for so long without breaking. And Nicole was as thin as glass, a mere pebble able to shatter her. All it took to push her over the edge was a broken bottle of whiskey and incessant phone calls.
Her sobs rang throughout her empty house, Calamity Jane nowhere to be seen, probably scared and hiding under Nicole’s bed. Nicole clutched her heart with one hand, and pounded the floor with her other. Her knuckles were sure to be bruised and bleeding but she couldn’t bring herself to care. After all, no pain was worse than the pain of Waverly being gone. She pounded the floor and cried, throwing empty beer bottles across the room, watching as some slid across the floor and into the kitchen while others smashed to pieces. She was trapped in her head, with mixed thoughts of Wynonna and Waverly and being kidnapped, her cries so loud and her head so foggy from the alcohol.
She was so far gone that she didn’t even hear the pounding on her front door. Even if she had heard it she would have thought she was just hearing things. Tears fell from her eyes like raindrops, never ceasing and drenching her shirt and the carpet below. She screamed until her throat was raw and her voice was scratchy. She let out a string of profanities, cursing both Bulshar and Julian for sealing Waverly’s fate to be what it was.
“Haught!” She heard Wynonna yell.
Nicole looked up and saw Wynonna standing in her doorway, the door wide open and the hanging slide lock on the floor. She kicked her goddamn door in. Nicole was tense in that moment, her mind ten steps behind and not fully registering what was happening. She reached for her gun resting on the coffee table and threw herself onto the couch to aid her in standing up. To no avail, she fell back to her knees and pointed the gun at Wynonna. She swayed slightly as she held her weight on her knees and tried to cock the gun’s hammer. Wynonna’s eyes went wide and she held her hands up.
“Haught,” she said slowly, “put the gun down.”
“Why’re you here?” Nicole slurred. “Get out’ve my ‘ouse.”
“You weren’t answering your damn phone and I got worried. We were all worried,” Wynonna replied. “Nicole, please put the gun down. It’s okay. You’re safe.”
“But Waverly’s not,” Nicole’s face shifted from anger to fear and she dropped the gun to the floor in an instant. “Wynonna, she’s not safe.”
“Hey,” Wynonna said firmly, “you can’t do that. You can’t just fucking...give up on her,” she crossed the room and stopped a few steps away from Nicole.
Wynonna gave the redhead a onceover, taking in her appearance. Nicole’s posture was slouched, her hands balled into fists and her feet in a weak stance. Her hair was a mess and deep purple bags hung below her eyes. What really took Wynonna by surprise in that moment was the realization that Nicole was still in her uniform. Her shirt was roughly untucked in various places, more than half the buttons undone causing it to hang open loosely around her chest. Her pants were untucked from her boots, and the laces of her boots were haphazardly untied, like she had started to take them off but stopped halfway. She’s given up. Wynonna thought. She’s lost it and there’s no getting her back. Wynonna stared back into Nicole’s eyes, tears forming in her own.
“You can’t...you can’t give up on me,” Wynonna whispered after a minute.
“I wasn’t...Wynonna I swear that’s not–” Nicole stuttered, her head suddenly a little clearer than before.
“Then what is all this? Huh? What, were you trying to give yourself alcohol poisoning? Flood your system to the point of just blacking out?” Wynonna motioned to the mess of various bottles of alcohol scattered about. Anger started to rise again in her system at the sight.
“Wynonna–” Nicole tried again, but no other words came out.
“I thought you loved her,” Wynonna said, voice steady.
“I do ,” Nicole replied without hesitation.
“So why were you trying to leave?!” Wynonna yelled, the tears building in her eyes finally spilling over. “Why are you trying to drink yourself to death?!”
“Because she’s all I had left, Wynonna! And now she’s gone forever! How am I supposed to go on knowing she’s probably already dead?” Nicole clenched her jaw and dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands so hard her knuckles went white.
“She isn’t dead!” Wynonna yelled. “She isn’t,” she repeated, softer.
“Well she’s gone. And I’m alone,” Nicole sniffled, releasing the pressure on her hands.
“No you’re not,” Wynonna knelt beside Nicole and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Because you still have me.”
Nicole nearly laughed at the comment. “No offense, but that’s not the most comforting thing to hear. You’re all just better off without me, you know? So what’s the big deal?” She glanced over at the pile of broken glass on her kitchen floor.
"We almost lost you three times at the hands of asshole revenants, you shithead! What am I gonna tell Waverly if she comes back and you're gone? Like gone gone ? You ever think about that ?" Wynonna gripped Nicole’s shoulder tighter.
"She's better off without me," Nicole said, defeat evident in her tone. "And you know it."
Wynonna's jaw nearly hit the floor, and she was suddenly filled with the urge to smack her best friend.
"We really don't have time to discuss all fourteen ways you're wrong about that, Haught," Wynonna said curtly. "But you know you can't keep doing this to yourself!"
“It’s not like you don’t do it all the time,” Nicole spat. “You nearly drink Shorty’s dry every time you walk in, and no one even bats an eye at you.”
“I’m an Earp, dumbass. It’s what Earps do ,” Wynonna rolled her eyes. “We drink and don’t get drunk. But you’re not an Earp. You’re a Haught, you’re Nicole fucking Haught, and you’re not supposed to get shitface wasted on bad booze and even worse beer.”
Wynonna stood up before Nicole could argue and offered the sheriff a hand to help her up. Nicole reluctantly accepted the proffered appendage and slowly rose to her feet. She sways a bit more than she was on her knees and nearly falls right back over, stopped only by Wynonna's arm around her waist.
“It’s your fault she’s gone,” Nicole nearly slurred and stabbed a finger at Wynonna’s chest.
“I know, Haught,” Wynonna replied softly.
“And it’s your fault I wasn’t there to help,” Nicole added, gripping Wynonna’s jacket tighter in her hands.
“I know, Haught,” Wynonna repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m still angry with you. So fucking angry,” Nicole said through gritted teeth, her voice lacking any real anger.
“I know,” Wynonna gripped Nicole tightly when she felt the embrace, afraid to let go for fear of losing her, too. “I know, Nicole. I am, too.”
They stayed like that for a while, Nicole’s quiet sobs the only sounds filling the room. Wynonna cradled the back of Nicole’s head, her other hand firmly pressing into her lower back. When they released each other, Wynonna was hit in the face with the stench of alcohol and she narrowed her eyes at the redhead slightly.
“How many drinks have you had tonight?” Wynonna grunted as she began to guide Nicole upstairs, her fingers curling into Nicole’s side as they took each step slowly.
“I stopped counting after three,” Nicole murmured.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Wynonna asked. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” She added.
“You think I didn’t want to call you?” Nicole scoffed. “You were pissed at me. You nearly broke my face the last time we were alone together. I didn’t want to push your buttons again.”
“First of all, I’d never hurt your stupid face, Waverly would kill me if I did. Second, Haught, if you’re...if you’re this close to doing...this shit, I...” Wynonna sighed. “I would’ve come no matter what.”
“Didn’t seem like it the last time I saw you.”
“Okay, yeah, I was ticked off, sue me. But you really think I’m going to willingly let another one of my team become one of the fallen?” Wynonna laughed a low, empty laugh. “You’re insane.”
“Well you’re mental.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Wynonna rolled her eyes and helped Nicole sit on her bed. "You're mental too, you know that?" Wynonna said quietly after a beat, surveying the neat bedroom.
"Why're we up here anyway?" Nicole asked, disregarding Wynonna’s comment, her brain still foggy.
" You’re going to sleep this off while I get the rest of the team over here to brainstorm. I'll check on you in an hour. Y'know, to make sure you're not actually dead," she added.
"Don't worry, Earp, I'm out of beer," Nicole said, her words slurred mostly from fatigue. "An’ whiskey."
Wynonna choose to ignore the comment and helped her friend into bed.
"Add another pillow," she said before leaving the room. "Might help you barf less later."
“Wynonna?” Nicole called out quietly. She waited for a moment before Wynonna’s head appeared from the hall.
“Yeah?”
“I um...” Nicole looked down at her hands, fiddling with the ring on her left hand. “Thank...you,” she managed to get out with her inebriated brain.
“You’re one of us, Haught. I’d never let you fall,” Wynonna replied softly.
“Never?” Nicole lifted her gaze to meet Wynonna.
“Never,” Wynonna whispered. “Now get some shut eye,” she cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Tonight’s meeting has been moved to your place. Jeremy and Robin should be here soon. We’ll try to keep the noise level to a minimum.”
“‘hank you,” Nicole smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes and came off as more of a grimace.
Wynonna offered her friend a soft smile before closing the door softly and turning to head back downstairs.
“I haven’t given up on you yet, Nicole,” she whispered to herself, “so please don’t give up on yourself.”