Chapter Text
Of course it was cold. The bright winter sun did nothing to quell its bite. That hard kind of cold that split skin and seeped through the cracks to settle into your bones.
It would no doubt be warmer inside, but Nicole couldn’t force herself to go in. Even as her skull throbbed in the low temperature, she remained in the thick of it. As soon as she’d gotten out of the car, she knew she wouldn’t be going in yet; maybe not at all. Maybe she would just get back in the car and drive away without ever showing her face.
It would probably be better for everyone if she did. But she had to go in, didn’t she? She couldn’t not.
Her numbing fingers pulled out a cigarette and worked the lighter, flicking it repeatedly until it sustained a flame long enough to light it. The first inhale burned her lungs, contradicting the cold oxygen it replaced. Leaning back against the tree, she closed her eyes and blew the smoke out. As the stream passed her lips to dissipate in the air, she wished the heavy mess in her chest could be pushed out as easily.
“Hey Punk,” she heard the familiar endearment call to her.
Nicole pinched the bridge of nose before opening her eyes to see, as she expected, Wynonna coming to stand in front of her. She took in the sight of her for a moment; the sun lighting the hanging curls of her hair, with her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket and that knowing grin on her face.
She was beautiful…and it sent a spike through Nicole’s chest.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked, “Party’s inside.”
Nicole flicked the ashes from the end of her cigarette.
“Can’t,” she confessed, shuffling her feet, “I can’t do it.”
Wynonna hummed and joined her against the tree. She stood quietly for a few moments, watching Nicole continue to smoke away the stick between her fingers.
“Gimme one of those,” she nodded.
“No,” Nicole answered through a plume of smoke.
“Come on, just a puff.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?” she asked then nudged her with her shoulder and her voice took on a mocking tone, “‘Because it’ll kill me?”
As soon as she said it, a hard sob burst out of Nicole before she could stop it. Her head dropped into her hands and she pressed them into her eyes. It was an attempt to get ahold of herself after the sudden outburst, but the action caused her to wince and pull her hands away.
“Shit,” she grimaced through clenched teeth.
“Easy,” Wynonna said, her voice turning softer as she moved to stand in front of her and get a good look at her face.
Her fingers danced over the mottled yellow and green bruising at the corner of her eye and spreading out and up her face, getting noticeably darker as it got to the still raw stitching along her temple.
“Guess even the hardest head can crack, huh?” she asked rhetorically as she inspected her face, “Literally in this case.”
Nicole just shook her head, bringing a shaking hand up to scratch the skin around the stitches.
“Don’t do that,” Wynonna ordered gently, pulling her hand away from the area, “Look I’m sorry. It was a bad joke. Totally inappropriate. But you love that about me, right?”
Nicole chuckled despite herself, sniffling once and lifting her eyes back to her, “Sure.”
Wynonna smiled and returned to her side, keeping her hand around hers as she did, and dropped her head against her shoulder. The silence returned, and for that Nicole was grateful. There was so much happening in her heart and head, she was just content to be in her presence without words. So, they stood there together against the tree, watching more people arrive.
Dressed and appropriately solemn; a few tossed glances their way, no doubt wondering all sorts of things and thinking on all the talk that had blown torn through town like wildfire.
“Oh shit,” Wynonna spoke up suddenly, “I can’t believe Shorty came. Remember when he found us in the basement getting shit faced on his best whiskey?”
Nicole laughed at the memory, “Yeah. He was pretty pissed.”
“Pissed? I thought the old man was going to have a heart attack right there,” she laughed, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad he didn’t, but if he had he wouldn’t have been able to rat me out to Gus.”
Nicole felt herself smiling fondly, “Never told my mom though.”
“Course not, he’s a grump not an asshole,” she said, “He’d never give that bitch an excuse.”
“Or he knew Gus would give it to me just as much as she did you anyway.”
“Oh please, that woman loves you like her own. I swear she wishes you were her niece instead of me,” she teased, “Has she been around at all? Your mom?”
“Not since before,” she answered vaguely, but the missing words were clear.
“Good riddance then,” she said, “You know there’s always room for you at the house. Hell, you can have your own room now.”
Nicole took a shuddering breath and dropped her eyes back to the cold ground. She felt Wynonna’s hand slip under her collar and ghosting along the nape of her neck.
“It’s ok,” she heard her say, “You’re going to be ok. You know that right?”
“I don’t,” she whimpered, “I don’t know how to be ok again.”
“Come on, that’s not the Nicole Haught I know,” she said, “That’s not my Punk. She’s all swagger and sexy determination.”
“It’s so hard, Wynonna,” her voice cracked, “So hard. It’s like there’s a scream stuck in my chest.”
“I know,” she said softly, “I’m sorry.”
“I just…m-miss…” she tried to say, covering her eyes with her hand again, careful this time not to press enough to cause pain.
“Shh,” Wynonna comforted, squeezing her hand still resting against the back of her neck. After a beat, “You ever think about that night? Couple weeks ago, when I came to your place – “
“Stop,” Nicole said sharply, “I can’t think about that right now. Please.”
Wynonna nodded and, thankfully, let it go.
Nicole sighed, snuffing out the little bit left of the cigarette against the tree and dropped the butt in her jacket pocket.
Wynonna snickered, “I still think it’s ridiculous every time you do that.”
“I’m not going to throw it on the ground,” she defended.
“Yeah, yeah, leave only footprints,” she teased, “God, if I had a buck for every piece of trash you just had to pick up when were just trying to have a woodsy romp.”
Nicole shared her amusement, memories of Wynonna giving her a hard time whenever she came across litter and was compelled to pick up. Shaking her head, she glanced over at the building and felt the slight pick up in her mood come crashing back down.
“You know you have to go in, don’t you?”
She swallowed and turned to face her completely.
“I’m not ready,” she whispered.
“Oh Punk,” she said her name gently, laying her hand against her cheek and rubbing her thumb along reddening skin, “You’re never going to actually be ready.”
Nicole blinked out a tear that stung its way down her freezing cheek.
“Plus, you got all dressed up, don’t you want to show it off?” Wynonna pointed out, tugging on her tie, “Come on, I’ll be with you the whole time.”
Taking a breath, she reluctantly agreed and started towards the looming building. She felt Wynonna arm slide around her elbow, keeping true to her word of staying with her. Once inside, Nicole stepped aside to take a seat in the back; Wynonna, still standing, looked at her in confusion.
“Dude, up front,” she gestured, “Family sits up front.”
“I’m not- “
“If you finish that sentence, I’ll brain you.”
Nicole looked around anxiously, her fingers tapping against her leg before she stood up to do as she was told. Making her way down the aisle, she was all too aware of the looks cast her way. She fought the urge to duck her head and hide her marred face. Though she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Everyone knew what happened, even without the bruises as evidence, and it made her skin crawl.
When she got to the front, she saw Gus already seated. The woman gave her a sad smile that Nicole just nodded at before taking her seat on the pew across the aisle on her own. Wynonna let out a low whistle as she sat beside her.
“Good turnout, huh?” she commented before looking around, “Blegh, a church.”
“It’s like the don’t know you at all,” Nicole said quietly at the same time Wynonna mumbled, “Like they don’t even know me.”
They shared a small smile and Wynonna bumped her shoulder proudly before Nicole looked across the aisle again. She saw Gus sitting strong and steady with her arm wrapped around Waverly. The younger girl already crying; her entire demeanor was a picture of heartbreak.
“She’s so sad,” Wynonna observed to which Nicole could only nod before she heard, “You’ll look out for her, right?”
The request surprised Nicole and she turned to Wynonna, speaking under her breath, “I don’t think she’d like having me around.”
“I’m serious Nicole,” she showed exactly how serious she was by using her first name, “Promise me, even if she’s a brat who tells you off, just keep your eye on her.”
Nicole looked back over at Waverly just in time for her to look up, her wet, red eyes finding Nicole’s. She could see, beyond the pain, the way those eyes hardened when she caught Nicole staring.
Looking away and clearing her throat, Nicole quietly agreed, “I promise.”
“Good,” she nodded and looked in front of them and clicked her tongue, “At least they chose a good picture. I look hot.”
“You always look hot,” Nicole told her.
“Nah, you’re just good and whipped,” she teased, then ran her hand quickly over Nicole’s thigh when they realized the priest was setting up at the pulpit, “Here we go.”
Nicole didn’t respond; she could barely breathe around the new lump in her throat as the old man’s voice began to fill the church.
“Good morning everyone,” he began, “We gather today as community and family to celebrate the life and mourn the passing of Wynonna Pamela Earp.”
“Fuck, man, they middle named me,” she complained.
And Nicole just felt sick.
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