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Nicole was fine.
She was fine.
She was definitely, totally fine.
“Stop. Pacing.” Rachel didn’t look up from her phone, still scrolling through her music collection, choosing which song would play next over the kitchen’s wireless speaker. “You’re gonna wear a hole in the floor.”
“The floor is fine,” Nicole disagreed, although she did instinctively glance down to make sure there wasn’t a visible path forming in the old wood. There wasn’t. “And I’m not pacing.”
Rachel glanced up from her phone and arched an eyebrow at her.
“I’m just… walking,” Nicole said, unconvincingly. Rachel rolled her eyes and returned her attention to her phone.
“Just call her.”
Nicole shook her head.
“I’m fine. And it’s like the middle of the night there. She’s probably asleep.”
“It’s you. She’ll pick up the phone. Just call her.”
“No. I’m fine. I can’t keep bothering them every five minutes. They’re on vacation.”
“We both know they miss you, too,” Rachel said, like it was so obvious and Nicole was being intentionally obtuse.
It was Day Six of Wynonna and Waverly’s two-week trip to Greece, and they had all known it would be hard to be apart, but nothing had fully prepared Nicole for the reality of it. There was a constant sense of unease that had taken seed in their absence, then grown inside her like vines. Kudzu and thorns, wrapping around her chest and coiling under her skin. It was too eerily familiar, having both of them gone like this. Too much like before. The empty house. The empty bed.
God, she hadn’t missed sleeping alone.
Maybe just a text… she contemplated, her hands already itching to reach for her phone, to reach out, just to be sure…
They had tried to plan for this. In the weeks leading up to the trip, Nicole had intentionally gone to bed an hour or two before Waverly each night, in hopes that they could slowly, gently inoculate her to sleeping in an empty bed again.
This plan had failed spectacularly, as each night Waverly returned to the bed to find Nicole awake and buzzing with nervous energy. And from there it was far too tempting, far too easy to just give up on the experiment for the night and climb into bed for a good cuddle, or some light foreplay, and inevitably they would end the night falling asleep side by side again, calm and comfortable and together.
Which had been fine… until Waverly left for real, and Nicole discovered that instead of re-training her to sleep alone, they had just conditioned her to eagerly anticipate Waverly coming to bed each night to snuggle away her separation anxiety.
So, in hindsight, that hadn’t worked out at all.
At least this time, they could still call each other, could still text and talk— Waverly’s daily FaceTime calls were a bright and shining lifeline in her increasingly colorless world. But even though she knew they weren’t literally gone, knew they were both at least still somewhere, there was a constant worry— What if they weren’t? What if they got lost, or hurt, or sick? If something happened to them, if they needed her, she wouldn’t be able to get to them. She couldn’t leave, couldn’t follow them beyond the Triangle’s borders.
It had been easier during the week. Reorganizing the sheriff’s department from scratch was an avalanche of work that buried her every day from dawn till dusk. Her work hours were consumed by putting out calls for new deputies and staff, and trying to think of the best way to accommodate both the human and supernatural citizens under her protection. It was easy to lose herself in the work. She came home with her head full and her body tired, made sure she and Rachel were both fed, and started the long, often fruitless process of trying to sleep without her favorite person beside her.
But now it was her day off, which Waverly had made her promise she would take. The request had sounded reasonable at the time, but now she regretted agreeing. Without her job taking up her full headspace, there was too much room for things like loneliness and anxiety to rattle around in there. The thoughts and worries that relegated themselves to dark corners on busy days had more than enough time now to crawl into the light and make themselves comfortable there.
She had planned to sleep in, letting unconsciousness fill the empty hours, but bad dreams and restlessness had woken her early and sent her in search of busywork around the house. She had found some— had baked bread, tended Waverly’s small garden, cleaned out and re-organized her patrol car, packed away some of their out-of-season clothes from the closet. But now she was out of busywork. And it was barely afternoon. And she was tired. But she couldn’t hold still.
But she wasn’t pacing. It was just… walking. In very small circles. Repeatedly.
…which was a totally different thing.
“Just call her,” Rachel repeated, her voice exasperated, and Nicole realized that she’d begun pacing (walking) again, her nervous energy needing an outlet despite her exhaustion.
“She’ll call tomorrow morning,” Nicole argued tiredly, wishing her heart wouldn’t try quite so hard to squeeze its way out of her chest, as if it could run off and hop a plane to Greece without the rest of her. “I can wait until then. I survived eighteen months without her, I can survive eighteen days.”
“You were dying after eighteen hours,” Rachel accused her, tilting the chair back to side-eye her more effectively. Nicole didn’t bother arguing. If anything, Rachel was being charitable with “eighteen hours” instead of “eighteen minutes,” which was probably closer to the truth. It had all been well and good exchanging their goodbyes that morning, before Nicole departed for work and the sisters departed for the airport (which was, annoyingly, on the other side of “Haught Dog’s invisible fence,” as Wynonna so eloquently called it), but by the time her lunch hour had rolled around, the creeping unease was already settling in.
She was happy for Waverly and Wynonna, happy that they were getting this time together and that Waverly was finally getting to see the world like she’d always wanted. Really, she was glad. Really. Really.
But… it had been painful to go home to a quiet house, to not look forward to getting post-work hugs and cooking dinner together and sharing drinks and what-happened-today stories. Rachel had seemed to watch her more closely than usual, as if expecting her to fall to pieces at any moment. She hadn’t fallen to pieces— yet— but climbing into an empty bed had almost done the trick.
The first night had been bad enough, with trouble falling asleep and one early-morning nightmare that left her shivering. But each subsequent night seemed to get a little worse. Sleeplessness made every day seem eternally longer, night bleeding into morning and day bleeding into night on an achingly slow, constant loop. That sleep-deprived feeling just reminded her even more of the Eighteen Months, and everything sort of spiraled from there.
“I’m not calling her,” Nicole repeated stubbornly, rubbing at her burning, bloodshot eyes. “We already talked this morning.” A short, somewhat rushed conversation over Nicole’s morning coffee and just before Waverly left for dinner. Barely a check-in. Not really enough to take the edge off. “I’m sure I’ll talk to her tomorrow. Just drop it for now.”
She said it in her most authoritative mom-adjacent voice, which usually worked like a charm. Which is why she wasn’t paying close enough attention to notice Rachel switch out her music app for her phone app until the music was replaced by an electronic ringing sound over the kitchen speaker. For about three seconds, Nicole assumed it must be the gimmicky intro to an unfamiliar new song, but then with dawning horror, she realized the truth.
“Rachel, no—” she started, just before the call was picked up and Waverly’s voice came through the speaker.
“Hello?” Waverly sounded understandably bemused. “Rachel? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing,” Rachel said casually, her eyes still boring into Nicole’s like a challenge. “Just seeing what you were up to. You’re not busy, right? Or sleeping?”
“No…” Waverly dragged the word out, still sounding puzzled. “Why? Is Nicole okay?”
“Nicole is fine,” Nicole said, loud enough to be heard over the speakerphone. She pressed a hand to her forehead. “Sorry, I told her not to call you.”
“Why? Is something wrong?” Waverly asked again.
“No. Nothing’s wrong—” Nicole said firmly, but Rachel interrupted to elaborate.
“She’s pacing and being annoying because she misses you but refuses to just call you like a normal person,” she explained, causing Nicole to flush with shame and maybe a touch of anger.
But she couldn’t really disagree with that assessment either.
“We’re going to hang up now,” Nicole said, before Waverly could articulate a response besides a quick ‘aww, baby.’ “I’ll call you back in a minute.”
In response to her glare, Rachel— now the very epitome of obedience— hung up the call.
“What?” the teenager asked innocently.
“You will pay for that,” Nicole growled, her expression stormy. She pulled out her own phone and retreated into the other room, already placing a new, non-communal video call. Waverly’s image appeared on the screen, clearly mid-giggle.
“Hey,” Waverly answered, her voice shaky with laughter. Behind her, Nicole could make out bits and pieces of their hotel room— blue walls, a bed, a lamp glowing on a nightstand, a darkened window where the night air rustled a white curtain. She was wearing pajamas, and her short hair looked wet from a shower, but she looked entirely awake. “Did Rachel just call me to rat you out?”
“Little teenage snitch,” Nicole grumbled. “I’ll have to think of how to get her back.” She’ll be milking skunks until she’s older than Nedley.
“Even though it sounds like she was doing you a favor? Because she cares about you?”
“Well, there is that, I guess,” Nicole admitted, as she sank down onto the couch, her weary body nearly creaking as she slumped back into the cushy nest of throw pillows. Whatever her halfhearted annoyance with Rachel, it was good to hear Waverly’s voice again, and to see her face. She could already feel her blood pressure dropping, as the buzz of separation anxiety died down. Waverly’s smile had the same effect on her as the sweeping view from a mountaintop, or a sunset over the ocean. Exhiliarating, yet calming. Awe-inspiring. Life-affirming.
“Are you okay? You look tired,” Waverly said, gazing attentively through the camera. Her voice was gentle and sympathetic, and the sound of it was a balm to her senses.
“I’m okay. She really didn’t need to call you. It was just a long day, and I didn’t sleep well last night. I guess I was being kinda twitchy.” Nicole screwed up her face a little, resigning herself of the thought of apologizing to Rachel later. She would probably be forgiven— Rachel, of all people, knew that Waverly and Wynonna’s absence rattled her.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Waverly asked gently. Nicole shook her head, rubbing at her gritty eyes.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m okay. I just miss you.”
Waverly gave her a knowing look through the camera.
“It’s stirring up some bad memories, isn’t it?” she asked.
“A little. Just at night, mostly,” Nicole admitted. She lowered her voice in case Rachel was still in earshot. “I really hate sleeping alone.”
“Me too! Ugh, it’s the worst,” Waverly agreed emphatically. She smiled through the camera, and Nicole drank in the sight of it, letting the warmth of it curl in her chest. “I miss my bonus blanket.”
“Well, once you get back, there will be plenty of time for naps,” Nicole promised.
“Yeah? That’s what you’re looking forward to when I get home? A nap?” Waverly’s voice was teasing, her face crinkled in amusement. “Don’t we have a reputation to uphold?”
There was a glint in her eye that made Nicole want to groan at the distance between them. She reluctantly smirked instead.
“Don’t worry, our reputation is intact. Rachel’s already planning to camp out in the barn for at least twenty-four hours after you guys get back.” Was it a necessary precaution? Who could say. But if that was her plan, Nicole saw no need to dissuade her.
“I think Wynonna is going right back to Miracles after she drops me off. So we won’t need to worry about her either,” Waverly told her.
“That’s good.” She would miss having a longer visit with Wynonna, but she did appreciate the thought of having Waverly to herself in the house for the entire day.
That would be nice. They’d be able to take their time. Lazy cuddling in bed, interspersed with a healthy amount of welcome-home sex and some nice, long naps. Driving out the last dregs of loneliness with kisses and caresses and conversations and just plain time together. It would be heaven.
“She says they’re almost done figuring out the logistics of moving Gus and Alice back north,” Waverly continued.
“Yeah…” Nicole agreed vaguely, only half listening. Part of her brain was still imagining how nice it would be to have Waverly back in bed with her. To have her back in her arms. How nice it would be to not have to worry about her being so far away.
“I think she’s torn about it. I mean, she wants them up in Purgatory, so we can all be in one place, but obviously it’s more dangerous there, even with the curse broken and everything. But I know she really wants you and Alice to have a relationship, and for Alice to have a whole big family.”
“Yeah…” That would be good, too. Seeing Alice. Getting to spend time with her. Seeing Waverly interact with her, and seeing Wynonna with her. And Doc. Jeremy. Rachel. Nedley.
Nicole rubbed her eyes.
“And it would be really nice to have Gus here again, you know? You barely got to know her before,” Waverly continued.
“Yeah…” That would be nice. If Wynonna and Doc and Gus moved back, it would probably feel just like having a family— aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews. The house would be so crowded at Christmas…
“Nicole…?”
“Yeah?” She was slumped back into the couch cushions and throw pillows, heavy and boneless and fighting the urge to yawn.
“Go upstairs and lie down.”
“I’m okay,” Nicole protested halfheartedly. Admittedly, though, as the itchy, nervous tension melted away, her eyelids were feeling heavier, and a hazy drowsiness was settling in. It was getting hard to really focus.
Waverly smiled at her as though she were doing something particularly adorable, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
“Just humor me. Go upstairs and get into bed. Please? For me?” She raised her eyebrows a little as she asked, taking on a sweetly pleading expression. Nicole caved instantly.
“Okay, fine.” Still keeping the phone trained on her face, she wrenched herself up to her feet with a tired groan. The room seemed to swim a little as she changed vantage point. Once it stabilized, she carried the phone with her up the stairs. “But really, it’s not that bad.”
“I know, but we knew this would stir up some stuff for you. You don’t have to pretend it’s not bothering you, or that you aren’t tired.”
They had talked about this— communicating better, and especially being more open about negative emotions. No more hiding things, or putting up walls to shield each other.
“No, you’re right,” Nicole admitted. “It is bothering me. And I am tired. But talking to you helps. And keeping busy helps. I just wish we’d maybe worked our way up to the two-week trip with something a little shorter. Like a weekend in Edmonton or something.”
“I know what you mean. It’s been amazing, seeing everything here, and having this time with Wynonna… but I miss you, too.” Waverly sighed, and for the first time, Nicole could see the weariness in her eyes as well. Not just the weariness of the end of the day, but something deeper. “I miss… having breakfast with you in the morning. And dropping by to see you at work. And talking before we fall asleep. All the little things.”
“Me too…” She missed the wind-down of the evening, eyeing the clock from the living room couch, or finishing a drink at the kitchen table, or watching the stars from around the fire pit. And waking up and hearing her breathing. Being able to reach out and feel her there. The ultimate reassurance of she came back and she’s here and she’s my wife.
She wished she could reach through the phone and pull Waverly back to their room, even just for a minute.
“I think Wynonna’s feeling the same way about Alice. I think it’s hard for her to be away now,” Waverly added, and Nicole nodded her sympathy.
“Are you guys regretting staying for two weeks?” she asked curiously.
“No. But yes. Kinda,” Waverly waffled, wrinkling her nose in uncertainty. “I mean, the plane ticket was so expensive, and there’s so much to see, I’m glad we have all this time. But I won’t pretend I’m not crazy homesick. I wish you were here.” She seemed to hesitate, as if debating whether or not to say the next part. “And I feel a little guilty, that you can’t be,” she admitted after a few seconds.
Nicole was quick to protest, an avalanche of words building up in her throat.
“I don’t want you to feel—”
“I know, I know,” Waverly said immediately, holding up her hands to head her off. “But I can’t help it.”
They had already talked about this. At length. More than once. Waverly felt guilty that Nicole was now ‘staked to this land,’ but Nicole had no regrets. She would have made the same decision if it staked her to one room, let alone one county, if it meant keeping Waverly in her life. In all their lives, really. That feeling had never wavered. There was nothing to add, no need to retread the same points over and over again.
“I’m just glad you and Wynonna got to go,” Nicole said, choosing to bypass the pointless argument. “I wish I could be there with you, but not because I really miss traveling— just because I really miss you. I wish I could see you seeing all those new things.”
“Me too,” Waverly said, her lips smiling but her eyes sad. In the dim, yellow hotel lighting, Nicole couldn’t be sure, but she thought she might have seen tears welling up in her favorite hazel eyes.
“But…” Nicole said, trying to reach for a silver lining to soften the conversation. “I’m looking forward to hearing all your stories when you get back. About all the sites you’re visiting. And all the crazy stuff Wynonna’s probably getting up to.”
Waverly’s expression brightened somewhat.
“I’m making a slideshow for when I get home,” she said, beaming at the thought. “With lots of pictures. And history facts. And background music.”
“And all the best wipes?” Nicole teased, her heart nearly bursting with love at just how Waverly it all sounded.
“They’re my specialty.” Waverly paused for a tiny yawn, and Nicole felt her heart melt. “But I want to hear about what you’re doing, too. I know it’s been hard, trying to get the sheriff’s office all fixed up. So why don’t you tell me about your day?”
Nicole raised her eyebrows, breathing a laugh.
“My day? You’re the one in Greece.”
“I know. And I’ll definitely have a lot to tell you when I get home. But until then, I’m here, and you’re there, and I’m homesick, and I miss you, and I want to hear how your day was.”
She looked so sincere, like she really did want to know about Nicole’s boring day off at the Homestead. Like it was important. Like it was worth hearing about.
“I love you,” Nicole said, unable and unwilling to hold the words back. Waverly’s smile slowly widened, her eyes shining with that adoring look she always got when they were having a moment.
“I love you, too.” She seemed to settle in, getting more comfortable on the hotel bed. “Now spill.”
Nicole mirrored her, shifting down on their mattress and tucking an arm behind her head as she considered what to say about her day.
“I woke up too early and couldn’t get back to sleep,” she admitted first.
“Nightmare?” Waverly guessed. Nicole considered softening the truth, but nodded instead.
“Yeah,” she sighed.
“Which one?” There were so many to choose from these days— Bushar’s massacre from her childhood, Jack of Knives, the widow’s bite, the fall through the Monument grate, plus any number of other horrors the Ghost River Triangle had treated her to.
“I don’t know. I didn’t remember much when I woke up. I just knew I didn’t want to go back to sleep.”
“I wish I could have been there.” Waverly’s expression was all compassion and mild worry.
“It was okay. I wasn’t that upset, just restless,” Nicole reassured her.
“Still. I wish I could give you a hug.”
Nicole’s eighteen months alone had left her with a need for touch that was like a sucking void. It growled in her chest like a hunger, ached in her bones, itched on her skin. And Waverly had been wonderfully indulging on the subject, sating that need with constant contact— from snuggles in bed, to romps on the kitchen floor, to a steady stream of hugs and kisses and caresses throughout the day. And its sudden absence made Nicole want to scream.
“Me too,” she said simply.
“Tell Jeremy that Black Badge needs to start working on teleportation.” Waverly joked, a slight pout on her face. Nicole felt the corner of her mouth tug up into a reluctant smile. It wasn’t as good as a hug— not remotely— but seeing Waverly again, hearing her voice, talking with her, was definitely dulling the ache.
“I’ll tell him,” she promised. “But he’s been so busy with his dating adventures recently, I’m not sure how high it’ll be on his to-do list.”
“What else? Today was your day off, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t go into work, right? You actually took the day off?” It was asked suspiciously, with slightly narrowed eyes.
“Yes, I took the day off. I baked some bread. And I checked on your kale. I think it’s looking better. I’ve been giving it extra water in the morning.”
“I hope you relaxed a little, too, somewhere in there. Especially if you didn’t sleep well.”
“It’s not that bad,” Nicole said, mostly truthfully. She was tired, but this was nothing compared to the long, sleepless stretches during the ‘eighteen months.’
“Still. I hate that I can’t just be there to lie down with you.”
“Me too.”
“Unless…” Waverly tilted her head thoughtfully. “Can you prop the phone up next to you?”
“Like on the nightstand?”
“More like on my pillow.”
“Um… I guess?” Nicole shifted Waverly’s pillow (the one she’d been cuddling the past several nights as a pitiful substitute for its owner) until she could prop up the phone in approximately the place where Waverly’s face would usually be.
“Perfect. Now lie down.”
Nicole could see where this was going.
“We don’t have to do this,” she said, not wanting Waverly to feel pressured into staying on the phone with her longer than she wanted to.
“Hey, I’m tired, too, and I’ve missed sleeping next to you. Let’s just try it, for a little while. If it doesn’t work, we can just talk some more, okay?”
“Okay.”
She watched Waverly, halfway across the world and right next to her, tuck herself under the blankets of the hotel bed. When Waverly shot her an expectant look, she followed suit, sliding under their sheets and trying to get comfortable. She was still wearing her day clothes— a flannel shirt and sweatpants— but as tired as she was, they made for more than serviceable pajamas.
“How are the beds there?” Nicole asked, as she caught Waverly adjusting the overstuffed hotel pillow with a fleetingly annoyed look in her eyes.
“They’re okay. I just miss our bed.”
“It misses you, too,” Nicole joked. Waverly shot an amused grin through the phone.
“Well, tell it to stop worrying— I’ll be home soon.”
“The bed says it’s looking forward to it.”
Their joking, and the creature comfort of their bed, and the sight of Waverly yawning next to her, all left her feeling warm and increasingly drowsy. It was odd for a minute, being on the phone without really talking, just looking at each other and occasionally smiling, as sleep slowly encroached on both of them. But it quickly started to feel almost normal. Almost like she was really there, or at least nearby.
Waverly was the first to fall asleep. She must have been more tired than she had given away— it had only been a few minutes of yawns and fluttering eyelashes before she drifted off. Nicole watched it happen, sleep settling over her wife like a spare blanket.
It was so peaceful. So nice, to be able to see her in real time, breathing slowly. To see that she was okay. Almost like she was really right there next to her. Almost.
Minutes later— it was hard to say how many— there was a sound of a door opening and closing, and more vague sounds of movement, and then the camera went careening for a few seconds before settling on Wynonna’s confused face.
“Ew, seriously?” Wynonna asked, looking nauseated by their blatant display of codependence.
“You can make fun of me when you’re both home,” Nicole said dryly. “Now put it back, please. I haven’t slept worth shit all week, and that was really doing the trick.” Her brain had just started quieting enough to go dark, and the prospect of sleep was becoming irresistible. Waverly had been right. As usual.
“Fine.” After a long-suffering sigh, the phone was returned to its previous position, aimed at Waverly’s peaceful face. Nicole felt herself settle again, the world once again as it should be. “I’ll hang it up once you’re asleep,” came Wynonna’s disembodied voice, a little gentler than before. Nicole felt a wave of gratitude— it couldn’t have been easy for her to quell her snarky comments. She would have to buy her some kind of homecoming present for when they got back, to thank her. Maybe something cute, for Alice. She wondered if they made Stetsons that small.
“Thank you,” she said, hoping that the words weren’t too quiet for her best friend to hear. Waverly stirred at the sound of their conversation, shifting a little before settling deeper into her pillow. “Wynonna, is there another—“
“Already on it,” came Wynonna’s voice, as an extra blanket dropped over Waverly’s shoulder.
“Bonus blanket,” Nicole mumbled to herself, reassured that Waverly was warm enough, even without her there to snuggle up to.
Nicole kept her eyes open for as long as she could stand it, reluctant to give up the sight of Waverly’s face beside her, but eventually nature won out. At least now, the knowledge that halfway across the world, Waverly was alive and well and dreaming of her, just on the other side of a phone connection, was enough to soothe her nerves.
She peeked one eye open to steal one final look before she let herself drift off.
As she surrendered herself to sleep, she slipped away imagining Waverly standing on the shoreline, looking out at the ocean for the first time as the tide swelled and retreated at her feet.
And Nicole had only sweet dreams.