Work Text:
The door of the homestead closes, and the rattling sound makes Waverly wonder how it even keeps the winter’s cold out. Reflexively, she pulls her arms close to her body, keeping out the cold and the unwanted loneliness from seeping under her skin.
How did the evening get away from her so quickly?
She’d said the wrong thing, of course, and now Wynonna is gone again; she didn’t mean to belittle Wynonna’s efforts.
For a moment, though, Waverly thought her sister had needed her — really needed her and not anyone else. Waverly feels like her arms, still hugging tightly to her own body, are the only things keeping her together as she looks for her phone. Dolls had been wrong to leave Wynonna with her.
He was wrong to let her hope.
It started with a text from Dolls that only read, ‘she’s safe. Office in 30’, and now Waverly needs to text him back to let him know Wynonna’s gone — again.
Has it really only been an hour and a half since then?
It had actually taken 40 minutes for Doc and Dolls to finally bring Wynonna back to the municipal building — and those 10 extra minutes of pacing, hidden in the BBD office, nearly threw Waverly into a panic. The sound of a door opening from somewhere down the hall had sent her running to see who had come in — hoping beyond hope that she already knew.
Waverly had been worried for hours about what kind of state Wynonna would be in — would she be carried in by Dolls, unconscious, or would she be hurt — catering to whatever side or limb had been wounded, would she walk in the room with confidence and false bravado, telling everyone it wasn’t even that bad and ask for the good whisky, or maybe she would be furious and bust down the doors — hunting for any weapon or ammunition she could find.
She’d been glad she didn’t have to consider the other option.
The sight she finally did see when she entered the hallway was certainly one she wasn’t prepared for. Wynonna had walked in unaided, she didn’t seem to be hurt, wasn’t bleeding or limping, but Waverly was still stopped in her tracks at the sight before her. There wasn’t any light in Wynonna’s eyes. No fear. No anger. No happiness or worry. Not even exhaustion.
Her face showed nothing.
Wynonna never entered a room without presence, and the sight had worried Waverly more than if she’d been carried in bleeding.
Waverly had wrung her hands to keep from asking a thousand questions at once and looked to Dolls. His face looked apologetic, but his eyes had commanded Waverly to let Wynonna proceed without interruption; she thinks, now, that Dolls must not have known how Wynonna was going to react either. He’d given the smallest gesture with his hand — small enough so Doc and Wynonna wouldn’t notice — to tell Waverly to hold on for just a minute longer.
Despite all three of them coming down the hallway, Waverly remembers it feeling eerily still and quiet. Dolls slowed his pace, after meeting Waverly’s eyes; he had reached for Doc’s elbow as he slowed down and the motion made Waverly look toward Doc for the first time. His features had been conflicted, filled with exhaustion and relief, but fury sat in the corners of his eyes and mouth. He had seemed startled at Dolls’ light contact but understood and slowed to a stop as well, crossing his arms and pulling away from Dolls to lean against the wall and remove his hat.
Wynonna didn’t seem to notice them stop at all, and Waverly had wondered if she’d even remembered that they were with her — she just kept walking, looking only at Waverly.
As Wynonna got within a few steps of Waverly’s reach, Waverly almost moved out of the way because it didn’t look like her sister would stop once she reached her. It seemed like Wynonna might just move right past her and into the BBD office to shut herself away in seclusion, but just as she thought it, she saw Wynonna’s face shift for the first time.
The tears were shed without hesitation and Wynonna had practically fallen into Waverly’s arms — even in the heartbreak Waverly couldn’t help but be a little jealous at how easily Wynonna could let her emotions out. Her arms wrapped around her little sister with an intensity that made Waverly find Dolls’ eyes again as she brought her own arms tentatively around Wynonna. Dolls simply nodded but Waverly saw his shoulders relax for the first time since he walked in — his jaw, though, had remained clenched tight. Waverly could only stand there and hold Wynonna, not breaking eye contact with Dolls until she heard a muffled sob from where Wynonna’s face was buried in Waverly’s coat.
The memory makes Waverly realize that her phone must still be in her coat pocket from when they got home. Everything had been so silent and chaotic at the time that she hadn’t even thought to grab it. The small bubble of regret starts to settle in her stomach as well, and she wishes she would have just said something to Wynonna while everyone else was there to help.
She obviously hadn’t been capable enough to do it by herself.
Now, all she can do is text Dolls after the fact, even though she feels it is likely fruitless. Letting Dolls know what’s happened will make Waverly feel a little less culpable — less guilty if something were to happen to her sister, but Doc will undoubtedly find Wynonna on his own and turn up when he needs to, as he so often does, which means Dolls will be worried for nothing — except easing Waverly’s own guilt.
Selfishly, she also doesn’t want to have another reason to thank Doc right now as she’s still frustrated with him for using her as bait for Constance Clootie, but she knows he’ll be the one to make his appearance at the final hour, even if his demeanor at the municipal building hadn’t helped to ease Waverly’s distrust.
While Dolls had kept fervent eye contact to give Waverly his silent support, Doc had quite the opposite approach and had almost purposefully avoided meeting Waverly’s eyes, looking at his hat while he turned it in his hands. They still hadn’t entirely made up after everything that had happened at the party. Waverly had thought he might be feeling guilty, but that seems highly unlikely, now.
He had seemed concerned, though distracted, leaning against the wall in the municipal building while Wynonna cried in Waverly’s arms. Then, without a word, or a glance toward Waverly, he stood up straight, put his hat on, and exited as silently as he’d entered.
It certainly isn’t what Waverly needed at the time, but maybe it had all been for Wynonna — for something he knew about her that Waverly simply didn’t.
Waverly sighs, standing in the empty homestead and knows it’s true — no matter how much she wishes otherwise. It’s hope enough to give Doc a third chance.
Finding her phone in her coat pocket, Waverly notices that Dollls’ coat is still hanging on the hook where Wynonna had left it after she and Waverly first got back to the homestead.
She hadn’t noticed until Wynonna had pulled away from Waverly, that her sister was in some kind of hospital gown and wearing Dolls’ coat instead of her own leather jacket. She tried not to let her surprise show on her face, nor did she search for Dolls’ eyes this time; the sound of Wynonna’s voice broke Waverly’s mental tension. It hit the hallway quiet and soft, and hardly like Wynonna at all, “Can we go home? I just want to go home.”
Waverly hadn’t been able to say anything then, she’d nodded and lead her sister out to the parking lot — questions about Wynonna’s wardrobe all but forgotten with the rest of the things Waverly never found the moment to say.
How had she not said a single word? Not even to comfort her clearly distraught sister. It doesn’t even seem real to Waverly now.
Dolls had slowly exited as Waverly lead Wynonna out of the building. He nodded to Waverly as she left; whether it was in reassurance or if it was just farewell, Waverly wasn’t sure, but she’d smiled back to him all the same as he turned to leave.
Waverly found that once she was alone with Wynonna, she didn’t know how to ease the tension; she’d hoped they’d be able to clear the air and talk like two adults who’d been through too much in the last 48 hours, but In the car, all of the questions Waverly wanted to ask felt selfish on her tongue.
The honest thought that she really wasn’t sure how to help her sister heal crept in and the car ride was just as silent as their reunion in the municipal building, despite Waverly’s racing mind. The words couldn’t get themselves in the right order.
She hadn't known what Wynonna needed — or how to even ask — hindsight clearly proved that.
It was only more of the same when they got back to the homestead. Wynonna went straight for the whisky, and Waverly dutifully followed her sister’s ghost. She’d convinced Wynonna to get changed, and paced aimlessly in the living room while she waited. Wynonna came back with the photo of The Seven clutched in her hands — the one she’d been holding on to like a lifeline for weeks.
Everything happened so fast after that, Wynonna said something and then Waverly had tried to make it better.
It hadn’t helped though, and Waverly feels like an absolute idiot now. Not a single important question asked, not a single comforting word, just one poorly thought out sentence — one enough to make Wynonna leave again.
Waverly looks at her phone, erasing and retyping messages to Dolls as her own feelings of failure bloom within the texts. Waverly knows she’s not as straightforward as Doc or as emotionally observant as Dolls, but she stays — she always stays, and that has to count for something. Waverly tries to tell herself it counts as she tells Dolls that Wynonna’s gone.
How much can her own staying even count, though, when Wynonna always leaves?
Always.
Maybe, if Wynonna would have stayed then they could have talked about everything that’s happened — to them both. Waverly sighs and erases another text that sounds a lot more like blame this time.
She sighs, dropping her hands to her side. She doesn’t want to be angry with Wynonna. That’s not the right feeling at all.
She doesn’t want to feel or place blame, she doesn’t want to feel guilty or wish guilt on anyone, she just wants to feel glad that her sister is alive.
The rest can wait.
Waverly deletes her half-typed message and decides not to send Dolls a text at all, backing out of their text thread completely.
Right under his name, she sees Nicole’s with a message from just over an hour ago; Waverly thinks she must have cleared the notification when she and Wynonna had gotten into the Jeep to go home.
[9:34pm] Thanks for checking in on me today. Thought I better let someone know they’re releasing me now.
[9:34pm] I’d tell Nedley, but he’d make me start filing paperwork immediately and that sounds worse than everything else that happened today.
[9:35pm] Thanks again, Waverly.
Waverly smiles at her phone, tension fading in her shoulders, and hopes it’s not too late to respond — thankful for the distraction.
[10:46pm] Hope you made it home safely! We found Wynonna thanks to you :)
[10:46pm] Sorry if this is a little late. Hope you’re getting good rest!
The chime of the sent messages feels light in the homestead and brings Waverly fully back to the present. She crosses the living room and brings the garbage can containing the burnt remnants of the photo of The Seven to kitchen garbage and dumps the contents; she finds and caps the whisky, putting it away in the cupboard. Cleaning always helps her feel even slightly more in control.
Her phone dings.
Reading Nicole’s name on the screen again brings another smile to her face, and she welcomes the feeling as she clears away the remains of her evening.
[10:49pm] Relieved that your sister is safe. I’m glad I was able to help even a little bit.
[10:49pm] And don’t worry about the time. I have afternoon duty tomorrow so I’m trying to stay awake for a while longer.
[10:49pm] Actually, watching Casablanca right now, per your suggestion.
Waverly bites her lip against the growing smile on her face, remembering her conversation with Nicole about the film. The thought of Nicole thinking about that conversation enough to choose to watch that movie tonight is almost enough to make Waverly forget about the evening’s other disappointments.
The typing and erasing of this message doesn’t carry guilt or disappointment; it feels happy - exciting even, like the first day of school.
[10:52pm] A perfect movie for tonight! Hope you made a big bag of popcorn!!
[10:53pm] But no gin. Doctor’s orders ;)
Waverly continues cleaning up the homestead and finds herself a little sad when her phone doesn’t chime with another message from Nicole. She supposes it’s because she’s enjoying the movie, and besides, Nicole had only texted Waverly to make sure someone knew where she was, and that she was okay.
The evening feels lonely again with nothing to worry over and nothing more to do. Waverly doesn’t feel tired enough to go to sleep and decides she might watch a movie herself when the sound of her phone’s alert stops her brooding in its tracks.
She’s smiling in anticipation before she even picks it up to see who it’s from.
It’s Nicole.
Waverly feels like she’s checking her grades after a hard semester, the fluttering in her stomach catching her by surprise.
[10:59pm] Doctor’s orders :)
There’s a photo with the text; a heaping bowl of popcorn sits on a coffee table in a dimly lit room. Behind the popcorn, Waverly sees Humphrey Bogart and Dooley Wilson; she smiles, knowing the scene by heart.
Waverly’s fingers hover over her phone’s keyboard, and no words come to mind.
She closes her phone in mild exasperation, stomach still fluttering in lingering anticipation, and her feet begin to move of their own accord. She grabs the keys to the Jeep before her brain can catch up and grabs her coat on the way out the door.
The cold air whips against Waverly’s skin harshly, bringing her back to reality — what is she doing?
She stops walking, but still puts on her coat and shakes her head. Did she really just think she would show up at Nicole’s doorstep and finish the movie with her? She didn’t even ask if it would be okay. She’s not even sure if she knows which house is Nicole’s — but Waverly has seen a police cruiser at a nice blue house just outside of the main town strip. She hasn’t heard about anyone moving, so she imagines that’s the one Nicole lives in.
It looks nice.
But still, she can’t just drive all the way out there unannounced. Nicole has had a long day; Waverly knows this.
Waverly herself has had a long day; this is foolish.
And yet.
Her feet carry her to the Jeep all the same. Maybe Nicole doesn’t want to be alone either, just like she’d said over coffee those many days ago.
They could be two less lonely people.
Waverly smiles as she drives away from the homestead and the evening’s mishaps — and drives toward Nicole.
Suddenly, though, the anticipation and excitement twist themselves into nervousness and doubt, but Waverly pushes it away with another smile to no one. “A girl’s night,” she says aloud to herself, but the words don’t convince her ears, and a pit of worry forms from the butterflies in her stomach as her own words disappoint her.
No, not a girl’s night.
This isn’t that.
Waverly swallows against the truth of her understanding. She sees it all now, all of the feelings that seemed out of place; driving down the road toward Nicole’s house, Waverly finally sees herself.
The business card.
At Shorty’s wake.
And after.
Fighting with Champ.
Having coffee together.
Casablanca.
The nervousness and peace of mind found after seeing her this morning after the party.
Even seeing Nicole’s name light up her phone screen.
Waverly drives straight through town, passing the road Nicole’s house is on, overwhelmed by her feelings and spontaneity. She’s not sure how to process her feelings for Nicole — how to pursue them. She turns off the main road into the municipal building’s parking lot to turn around and go home.
She hesitates, stopped in the nearly empty parking lot, hands gripping the steering wheel of her Jeep, “It’s too late for this. I haven’t slept in over 36 hours and too much has happened.” Waverly says, trying to convince herself to go home. She finds her reflection in her side mirror and shakes her head at herself.
She puts her car in first gear, takes a deep breath and heads home, trying not to think about the road she didn’t turn on, the text she never responded to, and the person who’s unknowingly taken a newly apparent hold on her heart.