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Chapter Text

2018

Nicole stands tall in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by yellow grass and summer air. Wynonna faces her, ten paces between them, Peacemaker on her hip.

When Wynonna tries to close the gap, Nicole steps back, shaking her head.

She takes off her Stetson and holds it before her, just to give her trembling hands something to do.

“It ain’t matter what I did, Wynonna. Only what I became.”

“It matters!” Wynonna cries.

The sun is setting around them. The sky blazons red.

Nicole shakes her head. “I thought so once. As I lay dying the first time. But down I went anyway.”

She smiles even though it hurts. “And then I kept getting spat out. It’s saying something when the Lord don’t wanna keep ya. What about when the Devil don’t?”

Wynonna doesn’t want to do this. Don’t make me do this. “Nic, please.” 

Nicole straightens. “Had a Uncle Nic used to take me riding. Likelihood is he knew I was funny but kept me close anyway. Said he believed I could make something of myself in spite of it all. Reckon I did, just a little. Finally.”

“Nic.” Wynonna is crying now.

“What’s Peacemaker tellin’ ya?”

Wynonna doesn’t want to aim it at her friend.

“Come on now,” Nicole encourages.

Sure enough, it glows red when aimed at her.

“That’s all you need, Wynonna,” Nicole says gently.

“Don’t make me do this,” she sniffles, wiping away her tears angrily.

Nicole laughs. “I always thought that a shame. That you girls ain’t had no choice. Not like I did. Don’t let me keep you from your freedom. That’d kill me worse, I think.”

“God dammit, Nicole.”

Nicole hardens. “Think about Alice, Wynonna.”

The gears in Wynonna’s head start shifting. Nicole knew that’d work. It’s why it took her so long to muster the courage to say it.

“Willa was a mercy. This is too.”

You’ve done it before, you can do it again.

“This ain’t one ya gotta wear on ya soul, Wynonna. It’s just the way it went.”

It’s ok, Wynonna.

Nicole takes a deep breath. “Hey, I meant it when I said you had a top-shelf ass.”

Wynonna laughs through her tears.

Nicole closes her eyes. “Tell Waverly…”

Her voice falters at the name.

“Tell her it’s over.”

Her face adopts a serene quality. Her words seem absurd but Wynonna gets it. The curse is done. The suffering is done. It’s over.

“I just pray the Devil keeps me.”

Wynonna aims. Peacemaker glows. A shot rings out across the clearing.

The Earp heir falls to her knees sobbing as Nicole disappears below.

The Beginning - 1891

Nicole wasn’t going by Nicole then. She was Red. She had her mama’s hair and her daddy’s height, and she ain’t much care for her birth name. She reckoned Virginia sounded like a girl who ain’t struggle at being a girl like her, so she ain’t think she ought to keep it. Red fit better, so she went by that. Red Haught.

She weren’t born bad and she weren’t born into bad either. Her parents were nice enough, ain’t minding too much to have a daughter like her. Her daddy liked the help on the farm and her mama had her little sister when she wanted something sweet.

I guess all the trouble started when she met Shae.

Shae was too smart for her own good. A damn sight smarter than Nicole.

And well, maybe Nicole could’ve been smarter if she weren’t so busy thinking about pretty eyes and soft hands.

Weren’t til there was a big hole in her gut, and her woman was standing over her saying “Sorry Red, I gotta get”, that she realised she mighta hitched her horse to the wrong wagon.

Well, ain’t that a thing.

There always did seem to be different rules for pretty girls.

Now she knows she ain’t have to do everything Shae told her, but well she was just so damn pretty and she ain’t mind one bit that Nicole was too tall and her hair was too short, that she liked a drink and sometimes got into fists at the saloon.

When Nicole was younger, she used to pick flowers for Daisy down the way each morning. She reckoned they was as good as going together, what with all the kissing in the barn. Then Daisy started going with Jim Cullers, holding hands and making eyes, and it weren’t long til there were young’ns runnin’ around.

She ain’t like pity like the kind Daisy gave her after that, and it’s a good thing too cos Shae weren’t big on pity. Nicole always thought that was a fine thing. Until now. Until she begged off like she was running late to dinner or curfew and not skipping out on her dying lover.

But Shae gave her more than Daisy's kisses in the shadows. A whole lot more. So Nicole had wanted to give what little she had.

And so here she lay, put down by a lawman in a bank robbery gone south. The wooden gun in her hand felt awful silly now.

“God damn, it’s a woman. I wouldn’t have shot her down had I known,” Wyatt sighs.

Nicole wishes for the first time in her life that she kept her hair long, her face soft.

Wyatt kicks her wooden gun with his foot and her eyes blink open, their light fading fast.

He tuts. “Look what ya made me do.” His eyes are tired, his face hard.

“Sorry, sir,” she croaks.

And the fucker laughs.

1929

The first time Nicole came back, she went looking for her uncle. He’d always been good to her and she sure as shit needed something good. He ain’t never paid no mind to her difference and well she was mighty different now, so she hoped he’d pay it no mind some more. She ain’t feel fit to see her parents and her little sister, knowing what she was, so she decided to leave ‘em be. Better that way.

As she stood at her uncle’s gravestone, she realised she’d been gone longer than she thought. Almost 40 years.

So in the absence of good, she went looking for a drink. She found a nice saloon and camped out for three days. Hell ain’t so nice, ya see, and her uncle was dead so she ain’t feel too bad about it.

When she was good and watered, she moved on. Found his abandoned shack and set to work making it home.

She thought she might look for Shae, see how she ended up, but it got her killed once and once was more'n enough.

1958

No-one bothered her for a long time. And she thought she better keep her head down, on account of being a demon n all.

She liked her life at the shack well enough and it was a damn sight better than Hell.

Josiah found her in the garden, standing over her tomatoes. Didn’t let her get a word in, just shot her dead. The ground swallowed her whole, tomatoes n all. She’s still a bit raw about that. What’d they do? They ain’t deserve to go to Hell too.

1967

The second time Nicole came back, she went straight to the drink. Found a shitty bar and camped out for three weeks. Hell ain’t so nice, ya see, and it’s even worse the second time around.

When she was good and watered, she stole a bike and went in search of nothing in particular.

Came upon an abandoned shack that reminded her of her uncle’s. Didn’t bother making it nice, just killed the rats and called it a day. 

She spent her nights lying on the ground, cheek pressed to the floor. Sometimes she thought she could hear the sounds from below, when there was no drink to put her to sleep.

In the dark she told God she was awful sorry for robbing those banks. For loving Shae. Hell, even for stealing that bike.

But he ain’t have nothing to say about any of it.

When Edwin came she barely lifted her head off the floor.

“You look awful sorry, ma’am.”

Nicole just blinked. Thought about how you can be something so much you start to look it.

He felt bad putting a bullet in her, she could tell.

Good.

1983

The third and final time Nicole came back, she went straight to the drink. Robbed a liquor store and scared the clerk half to death with her true face. Told him to remember her cos she’d be back every morning. But don’t fret, I’m only wanting the cheap stuff.

Sure enough every day she got her bottle. Eventually the clerk got used to her, said she seemed awful normal for a demon. She had half a mind to put the fear of death in him once more. Seemed to be wearing off.

Instead she just shrugged.

She wanted to say she wasn’t always a demon. Had me a Uncle. Had me a girl. But didn’t see much use in that.

And so it went like that for a time, until one morning she comes in for the drink and asks for a pack of cigarettes too.

The clerk is surprised when she dumps coins on the counter. 

“So those you’ll pay for?” he says wryly.

She huffs. “Well cigarettes weren’t no part of our original deal.”

The clerk just laughs. “Deal, huh? Mighty honorable of ya.”

He scoops up her coins and ignores her glare. “So what, you got a job?”

He knows by the look of her (and the stink) that she damn well doesn’t but he ain’t get much clientele in this shithole town and well, he takes conversations where he can get ‘em.

Nicole grunts. “Put out a hat. Never learned my letters so I ain’t got a sign. But I got my hat.” She tips her dirty Stetson to him. Who knows what color it was originally.

“Took ya two years to put out a hat? You’re awful slow.”

“Ain’t I just tell you I never learned my letters?”

The clerk laughs. “They ain’t teach ya how to read at demon school?”

“Ain’t no demon school, ya fool,” she huffs.

The clerk laughs once more as she grabs her cigarettes.

The lighter she snatches, cos he’s pissed her off and well she still needed it.

The next day he hands her a sign. Says it says “Spare change please”. She’ll have to take his word for it.

That’s how it went for years and years.

The clerk up and left but he told his replacement about their deal, leaving out the part about her being a demon. Didn’t bother her, and she still got her bottle.

That’s how it went anyway, 'til Bobo Del Rey.

1990

Bobo Del Rey stands over her, kicks her sign then kicks her. It pisses her off mighty cos she worked real hard on copying over the letters from the old one and she reckoned they looked pretty good.

She glares up at him.

“You prefer Red or Virginia? Or maybe Ginny?” he asks.

No hello, no how are ya, no sorry ma’am for kicking your sign it looked like you worked real hard on.

“Neither. How in the Hell you know those names?”

“There’s a whole section in the Earp museum about you. Robbed banks with Lady Shae, even killed a few guards too.”

“I ain’t kill no guards,” she asserts.

Bobo shrugs. “Well then we both have god awful luck.”

Nicole huffs. “Ain’t no luck about it.”

She’s had decades to understand it was her choice to follow that girl. No one’s fault but her own she followed her all the way to Hell.

Nicole sits up and reaches into her breast pocket for a cigarette. She doesn’t offer Bobo one, doesn’t want him sticking round.

He comes by every now and then. She thought it was funny, him checkin’ in on her. It ain’t like she could die.

She ain’t know much bout bein’ a demon but over a century of half-livin’ will still clue you on to a few things.

1. Hell ain’t want her. Which worked fine for her cos she ain’t want Hell.
2. She ain’t age. Which worked fine for her cos she ain’t wanna die and go to Hell.
3. She ain’t die too easy. Which worked fine for her cos she ain’t wanna go to Hell.

She knows she don’t need to eat much at all, that no beatin’s ever finished her and that even the odd knife weren’t much more than a bother.

Seems only lawmen could send her south.

Bobo laughed when she told ‘im all that. She wished she hadn’t when he wouldn’t stop going on and on about the Earp curse and all its rules.

She just drank from her bottle and let him tire himself out.

One day the liquor store turns into a McDonald’s and there goes her drink-ticket. When Bobo checks in next, she thinks it’s about as good a time as any to upsticks and see what he’s offering.

He laughs when she tips her hat-coins into her hand and places the dirty Stetson on her head.

She follows him anyway.

He says they ain't going far, just to a place called Purgatory.

She shrugs. Sounds about right.

Chapter Text

1991 

Apparently she was a Revenant, so says Bobo anyway. She was perfectly fine calling herself a demon but she ain’t wanna anger no demons so Revenant worked too.

Purgatory wasn’t so bad. She avoided all them Revenants, only speaking to Bobo when she had to. She knew he was keeping her close but she ain’t know what for and she wasn’t gonna ask.

When she found another shack that reminded her of her uncle, she thought she’d fix it up proper, start going by Nic. She loved him after all and she’d been going by nothing for so long it felt right to start new.

Nicole Haught fit just fine. Nic for short.

She planted a garden to pass the time. Even some tomatoes. She made sure to say a prayer over them to give ‘em a fighting chance, just in case.

If Ward killed her dead she hoped it would be somewhere empty like the middle of a street. 

Bobo said just cos we Revenants, ain’t mean we had to be stupid.

She ain’t want Nic Haught to be stupid so she started learning to read and write. Bought any book she could get her hands on. Liked ones with cowboys most which Bobo thought was real funny. 

She decided she ain’t want Nic Haught to be bad neither. Bobo ain’t find that funny. Found it mighty grating, in his words.

“Ain’t no such thing as a Good Revenant,” he reckoned.

Well maybe so but she was gonna go ahead and see for herself, just to be sure.

You see she had her uncle’s name now and that meant something.

Actually, it meant a few things:

1. No demon face
2. No crime
3. No drinking

She quickly changed that last one to “No drinking to excess”.

Forever’s awful hard without the help of a nice, cold brew. She had recently discovered coffee which helped some, but other times you need a little more.

Uncle Nic enjoyed a drink or two in his time so she thought he wouldn’t mind.

1999

When Bobo comes round talking bout deals and trying to recruit her for the Earp job, she refuses. Tells him she ain’t getting involved with them three girls hanging around. That’s asking for trouble. She’s seen Ward about town, seen his kind of lawing, and his kind of fathering, and she ain’t want no part of it.

Bobo says it ain’t like that. Says it’s a good deal and ain’t nobody getting hurt.

When she doesn’t budge, he calls her a coward. But she’s been to Hell three times, she ain’t afraid to say she’s afraid. 

The plan fails. Ward Earp dies.

Nic ain’t ever been one to say I told you so, even after all 'em trips to Hell, so she keeps to her shack and the Revenants seem to forget all about her.

Bobo doesn’t come knockin’ no more and well Ward’s girls still got some growin’ to do 'fore they send her down.

And so Nicole lives on the edge of town, reading her westerns and tending her garden and waiting for the Heir to come of age and come knockin’.

She knows her time’s coming, but she ain’t tryna do nothing about it like Bobo always was.

And her tomatoes are looking better each season.

2016

Working as a deputy was a surprise. She was scared the badge was gonna burn right through her when she first put it on. Ain’t like it was a cross but it sure felt symbolic. Mighty heavy too.

Nedley had seen her on the street, cracking two boys’ heads together after they got into a tiff. Said she showed mighty fine conflict resolution.

She said she ain’t know much about that but she reckoned their heads needed a good knockin’.

The pot-bellied man had a good laugh at that and offered her the job as his deputy right then and there.

“You sure bout that, sir? You ain’t know me from Adam.”

The Sheriff shrugged. “I’m a good judge of character. Plus you sound like my daddy. Like one of ‘em old cowboys.”

She wondered what Wyatt Earp himself would’ve thought if he could see her now; badge, gun 'n all.

Deputy Nic Haught.

She had laughed.

But then she ain't wanna think about that man no more. Thought about her old uncle instead. Hoped she was doin’ him proud.

Nic was sitting at her desk, working the night shift, when Wynonna came back to town. She felt the shift in the air, long before she saw her in person.

Nic sensed her demise then. Felt it closing in. Thought she’d mind a whole lot more if she was being honest.

Instead she got up and made herself another coffee.

She’d been working a month when Nedley said she needed to go to Shorty’s, get to know the people she’s policing. Told her half the job is shuffling folks from there to the drunk tank at the station.

When she said she ain’t like to drink all ‘at much, he said she ain’t have to.

She understood that to mean she ain’t have no choice in the matter.

Now she's sure Shorty's is a fine establishment, but the truth is she ain’t wanna see no drinking Revenants. So she found a work around. She went in the morning.

“Great. Perfect.”

Waverly is standing behind the bar, having just gotten control of the burst beer tap. Her shirt is soaked through.

At least the place is empty.

Then the bell above the door rings because of course it does.

“Howdy,“ calls the newcomer.

In walks the capable new deputy that’s the talk of the town. Champ wasn’t too happy to hear he’d been passed over for the role and by a woman no less.

Waverly had let that particular comment slide, let it slide all the way to the bottom of the pit where it joined all the other harmless comments and things she’s had to overlook in order to justify being with him.

The pit was filling up fast.

She sighs.

The deputy looks around the establishment curiously, as if she’s never seen a dive-bar before.

She approaches the counter and extends her hand. “Deputy Nic Haught,” she introduces.

Nic properly looks at the girl in front of her for the first time then, and she wishes she had sooner. She’s the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. And her shirt is clinging to her.

Her mouth goes dry.

“Waverly,” the bartender replies from behind the counter, taking Nic's proffered hand.

“Waverly Earp.”

Nic retracts her hand as if burned. Waverly’s face falls and Nic hates to be the cause of that look.

“Suppose you’ve heard about my crazy family then.” Waverly chuckles without mirth.

Nic blushes. “I’m sorry. That was mighty rude of me. I hope you’ll not think less of me.”

Waverly quickly gets over it, as she’s had to do throughout her life to seem amenable. But she does note the genuine contrition in Nic’s eyes.

“You sound like an old cowboy,” Waverly notices.

“Hope I ain’t look like one, too,” Nic says with a smile.

Waverly shakes her head, taking in the woman before her.

She’s tall, made taller by the Stetson on her head. Her shoulder-length red hair is stark against the cream of the hat. She looks like a lawman. The prettiest one she’s ever seen.

Wait, what?

“I hope you don’t mind me saying, Miss, but is your shirt meant to be soaking wet and stinking of booze?”

Waverly sighs. “Damn tap burst. Great way to start the day.”

Nic smiles. “How bout you let me take a look at it?” she offers.

“I couldn’t ask you to. You’re on duty.”

Nic smirks. “Well, old Nedley made me come here and introduce myself, said I had to make friends, so I reckon I can take my time.”

Waverly looks unsure.

"It's the friendly thing to do. Let me make it up to ya, for my earlier behaviour."

Waverly relents. “Well OK then. I’ll take all the help I can get.”

Nic gets behind the counter.

That morning Nic learned nothing about Shorty’s regulars and everything about Waverly Earp.

Shorty’s is owned by her uncle. Her aunt Gus helps out when she can.

Waverly is tending bar to pay for her online courses. She’s real smart; a student of ancient languages. "One was enough for me. Almost too much if I’m being honest,” Nic says, earning a smile.

She’s never left Purgatory but she wants to travel somewhere hot. Nic gets awful quiet when Waverly talks about that.

Her big sister Wynonna’s back in town. Nic knew that.

And her boyfriend is Champ Hardy. That particular fact rubbed Nic the wrong way and she ain’t know why. She supposes the name is awful stupid but she can hardly judge a man for reinventing himself. 

After Nic has fixed the tap, it just needed a little tightening and elbow grease, Waverly is grateful. “Thank you, Deputy.”

Nic likes the sound of that from her, “Deputy”. Reckons it sounds real nice.

“Ain’t a thing,” the Deputy shrugs.

Waverly looks at Nic like she can't believe she's real. “You’re like a Southern gentleman straight out of a movie. First Doc, now you.” She shakes her head.

Now Nic ain’t know this Doc so she ain’t sure how she feels being compared to him. She lets it go for now, hoping it’s a compliment.

“Well, I’ll see you around Miss Waverly.”

“You too, Miss Haught.”

Nic ain’t thought herself a Miss for a long, long time. But it seems that anything said by Miss Waverly’ll make her stomach flutter.

Oh fuck.

When Black Badge comes to town, Nic ain’t too interested in their dealings. 

Nedley got a bee in his bonnet talking bout big city guys throwing their weight around but she was perfectly content to leave ‘em to it.

Especially when it became obvious what they was doing. She was doing quite well ignoring the Revenants, got herself a cat and everything, so she wasn’t about to go and ruin it all by being curious.

Then Wynonna starts coming round the station and well, she’s awful loud. Don’t take long to learn what they’re up to, hard as Dolls tries to keep it contained.

Demon-hunting.

Now that ain’t music to the ears of a demon. But it ain’t like she ain’t seen it coming. And the Sheriff won’t have too hard a time finding her replacement. Champ Hardy’s still in town after all.

The Sheriff seems to have a history with the Heir and it ain’t long ‘fore he’s venting to Nic about her. Sounds like she ain’t had it easy and she ain’t made it easy neither. Mostly petty crime but he says it sure is a surprise to see her with a badge.

Now that’s something Nic can relate to. She finds herself liking the damn girl.

When Nic enters Shorty’s to grab an afternoon coffee, Waverly already has it waiting for her. Didn’t take her long to memorize the Deputy’s order and routine.

“Howdy,” Waverly drawls with a twinkle in her eye.

Nic’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t be mocking me now, would ya?”

“Of course not, Deputy,” Waverly says too readily.

There she goes with that “Deputy”. I might just go ahead and die.

Nic takes off her Stetson to run a hand through her hair. Waverly’s gaze lingers on the movement. She gulps.

“And now you’re withholding my caffeine, you tryna break my heart?” Nic smirks.

Waverly suddenly gets skittish.

Nic has noticed that. She likes flirting but only if it’s safe. If the Deputy pushes, even just a little, Waverly retreats. Nic should know not to mention her “heart”, it implies a little too much.

Waverly hands over the coffee. “Sorry, Deputy. Here you go,” she blushes.

Nic puts her Stetson back on and mourns the moment.

“Thank you very much, Miss Waverly,” she farewells.

Waverly frowns, finding it hard to name what went wrong in that interaction, but knowing that something did.

Nic reckons it’s probably a good thing. She’s a goddamn Earp for chrissakes.

Nic is working late when Wynonna comes round with a bottle of whiskey. Nic remembers rule number 3 (No drinking* to excess) and forgives herself the indulgence. She has been awful good lately.

She notices Peacemaker on Wynonna’s hip, and eyes it like you would a snake set to strike at any moment. Nic snaps out of it, not wanting the Heir to catch her staring.

It ain’t glowing red or giving her away so she lets herself relax. 

Then Wynonna starts rambling.

“I haven’t seen you and Doc in the same room together, you got a pact? Is it a “this town ain’t big enough for the two of us kind of thing?” Or are you Doc in a red wig?”

Nic is a bit overwhelmed by the sudden questions.

“I ain’t do much ‘sides work here and go home so we ain’t had the occasion to meet, I suppose." Nic offers. "Does that answer your questions? I’m afraid I missed a few.”

Wynonna nods. “So your accent is real?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I declare,” the Heir drawls.

Nic shakes her head. “You remind me of a girl I used to know.” 

“Is that so?” Wynonna cocks an eyebrow.

“Sure is,” Nic nods earnestly.

“Want to elaborate on that?”

“Not particularly. But pour me some whiskey and we’ll see what you can get out of me.”

Wynonna smiles, finds she doesn’t mind being bossed around by the cowboy.

The two drink and trade tales and Wynonna never gets that particular story. Instead she gets an altered history of growing up on a farm and chasing straight girls.

Wynonna in turn talks about Greece and Europe. Nic’s mighty interested to learn about anywhere outside the Ghost River Triangle.

She talks about Dolls and the stick up his ass. When Nic says “What do you expect of a lawman?” she earns a hearty laugh.

She talks about her crazy daddy and her little sister.

“She’s the best of us, you know? Shame about her boyfriend.”

Nic laughs. “Had him in the drunk tank the other day. Was flirting with me tryin' to get me to let him out.”

Wynonna and Nic dissolve into drunk laughter.

Nic walks home in the wee hours, pink-cheeked and lighter.

Trouble comes later, in the form of Bobo Del Rey.

She’s starting to think she shouldn’t have followed this boy, even as she admits to enjoying the odd modern luxury like running water and Wi-Fi.

She’s still wearing her uniform when she answers the door.

“Still playing at Lawman, I see,” Bobo greets.

Nic frowns. It's been years but it's still too soon. “What is it you’re wanting, Mister Del Rey?”

“I’m wanting to know why you’re getting so chummy with the Earp girls?”

Nic scoffs. “Hardly call it chummy. One makes my coffee, other brings me whiskey.”

She suddenly feels the need to tread very carefully.

“You got a death wish?” he asks.

“Not so much a wish as a curse,” she replies evenly.

Bobo sighs. “You learn to read and suddenly you’re a poet?”

“No sir,” Nic replies.

“I ain’t a sir,” Bobo sneers, getting frustrated. “Things are moving now, Red. You gotta choose a side eventually.”

Nic doesn’t say anything and the man in the fur coat leaves.

Calamity Jane weaves between Nic’s legs as she closes the door. She’s left to worry about what those moving things he mentioned could be.

Chapter Text

Nic makes a fine deputy, according to the Sheriff. She tells him it’s easy to look good next Lonnie. 

True enough, Nedley agrees, but he reckons she’s good in her own right, too. Damn good. Natural to it, like a fish to water.

Makes her feel big. Like she’s doin’ something good and right.

Then he asks her if she's seen anything funny goin' on about town. Gives her a look like he wants to say something more, something socially unacceptable, but he ain’t sure if he should.

She ain't have the heart to let him speak more on it. Just shakes her head and puts a dumb old look on her face kinda like Lonnie.

Nedley frowned then and he ain't bring it up since.

She felt awful bad after that, but ain’t no use openin' that can of worms ‘less she has to. Better to play dumb for now.

Turns out it ain’t long til she has to quit her playin’.

Nic has kept an eye on Black Badge for a while now. She wasn’t tryna be curious, knows that’s a surefire way to trouble, but then Waverly started hangin’ around and well, that changed things some.

Mostly she started worrying about the girl. There’s demons all over Purgatory after all, even without you hunting ‘em.

And Bobo's recent warning spelled trouble. She could smell somethin' in the air.

Now Nic knows Wynonna can take care of herself, that girl likes to shoot her way outta trouble. She’s bettin’ Dolls has some impressive firepower in that vault he keeps locked up and the mysterious Doc has a reputation as a legendary shot.

They all seem well equipped to defend themselves.

But Nic ain’t wanna take no chances. Not with young Waverly involved. And well, truth be told, she had a soft spot for Wynonna too.

Reminded her of Shae in all the good ways and none of the bad: ballsy, lippy and quick as all heck. Impatient and strong-minded too. But Wynonna has none of her selfishness, none of her coldness and anger. No chip on her shoulder.

Despite the way it ended, Nic will always be grateful to Shae for her love. Don’t mean she won’t clock her if she stumbles upon her next time she’s in Hell.

So Nic reckons she’ll keep an eye out on Black Badge. But she definitely ain’t tryna join ‘em. No way. 

And lucky for them too cos she ain’t got much to offer. She ain’t killed no-one before. Had to put a dying sheep out its misery once when she was a girl helping her Daddy on the farm. Cried for weeks after and swore off meat too.

Only thing she’s experienced at is dying. And she ain’t never stayed dead so it’s not like she’s even good at it.

So Nic was keeping Black Badge on her radar but she sure as hell wasn’t about to step into it.

Then the Stone Witch comes along.

Says something bout resurrecting her boys who was killed dead by Wyatt. Nic ain’t no nothing bout that.

She learns they wasn’t resurrecting each time the new heir came of age cos they wasn’t human.

Nic starts to wonder if she should’ve made herself friendly with these Revenants and their ilk instead of retreating to her shack. Knowing more about ‘em would sure come in handy now.

Waverly destroys a skull and the Stone Witch ain’t like that one bit. Flings Waverly into a wall and makes to do worse.

It’s Doc that scares her away.

Nic is glad of it, thinks it’s high time she met the man.

It’s Waverly that’s telling her all this and she feels awful bad she has to hear it second-hand. Thinks she should’ve been there when it happened, instead of as she is now: in Shorty’s, taking a statement.

Waverly’s been drinking with Wynonna, that’s why she’s so chatty.

Might be that she comes to regret her rambling but it ain’t like Nic’s taking note of the supernatural parts of her tale anyhow. Won’t look too good in an official report.

“I broke up with Champ,” Waverly blurts.

Nic’s pen stills on her pad. She looks up after a beat. “Good.”

“Good?” Waverly asks and the deputy nods in affirmation.

“Good.” Nic puts the pen and pad in her breast pocket. “Now that alcohol in ya is gon make ya feel good but you better ice that hand anyway.”

Waverly nods but doesn’t move.

Nic sighs and walks behind the bar.

From the pool table, Wynonna notices the Deputy and wolf whistles. “Barkeep, I’ll take a Slippery Nipple. Wait, no, a Redheaded Slut.”

Waverly cringes but Nic shakes her head fondly. “Watch it Earp, I’ll take ya to the drunk tank.”

“Ooh, and what will you do to me?” Wynonna asks suggestively.

Nic laughs. Wynonna is all bravado and innuendo and fun. Everything Nic isn’t.

The deputy doesn’t notice the glare Waverly is shooting her sister.

“Lock ya up. Maybe make ya a coffee if you ain’t piss me off too much.”

“Booooo!” Wynonna complains with a smile.

Nic scoops ice out of the bar bucket and into a cloth. She folds it carefully and then hands it over to a pouting Waverly.

Waverly, having finally pulled her annoyed gaze away from her sister, takes it gratefully, and places it tenderly on her injured hand.

She winces slightly.

Nic thinks of the events of the night. Of Waverly getting hurt. Thinks Bobo was right about picking sides and she’s got some decisions to make.

“I’ll leave you girls to it,” she says abruptly.

Nic leaves and the youngest Earp waves her off from the bar.

Not long after that, someone comes and knocks Nic on the head.

When she wakes up in the cold and dusts herself off, she finds Wynonna’s been taken. She goes straight to Black Badge.

Dolls tells her he’s called the Jack of Knives and he’s a known serial killer in the area. He’s the last of the seven. When she asks what that means, it’s Waverly that explains.

“It was seven Revenants that came upon the Homestead when I was girl. That killed Daddy and Willa. Wynonna’s got six with Peacemaker. He’s the last of ‘em.”

Nic winces, remembering Bobo’s request to join him all those years ago.

Dolls resigns himself to letting Nic into these conversations. Her head’s still smarting so she ain’t thinking about bein’ offended by it.

“You don’t seem surprised by this Deputy,” Doll states.

“Well, Wynonna’s a loud mouth, sir.”

Dolls groans.

“And I have two eyes and half a brain.”

Wynonna kills that killing bastard and that makes seven.

Later, Waverly’s at Shorty’s drinking at the bar top, her broken hand now in a cast.

Wynonna is swindling some local boys at pool and making eyes with another across the room. Soon she’ll be dancing on tables. Nic decides to forgive that, girl’s been through Hell and she ain’t thinking that lightly.

Nic approaches the bar, not in uniform.

Waverly realizes she’s never seen her in casual dress. Flannel, jeans and boots. Hardly surprising but it all fits her well. She still wears her Stetson and it makes Waverly smile. There’s something reliable about that.

“Deputy! Thought you didn’t like to drink?” says the youngest Earp.

“Ain’t about like, I’m just a bit too good at it,” she says honestly. “Anyhow, this century’s all about moderation.”

Waverly snorts and takes another shot. Don’t look like she’s sparing a thought for moderation tonight.

She offers Nic a shot and the deputy throws it back, keeping half an eye on the girl. She’s concerned.

“You alright, Miss Waverly?”

Nic frowns, noticing that if Waverly ain't already drunk, she's well on her way.

“There you go again with the Miss… You know I was Miss Teen Purgatory three years running.”

Nic didn’t know that. She actually doesn’t know what those words mean and she’s too afraid to ask.

“I was head cheerleader in Senior Year, too.”

“With the pom poms?” Nic asks. Them she’s heard of.

Waverly nods. She turns wistful. “Do you think I'm pretty, Nic?”

It's the question of a needy, young girl. 

Nic smiles gently. “I think you’re drunk as a skunk.”

Waverly laughs. “Yea, well, I thought it was high time I quality assured these beverages.”

Nic banters along. “And what are you reckoning?”

“Very potent.”

Nic chuckles.

Waverly takes another long drink. Someone her size ain’t need much for pickling, and Nic reckons she’s most the way there.

“You’re on your way to the drunk tank,” the Deputy jokes with a worried look.

“Is that your professional opinion?” Waverly challenges, suddenly defensive.

“And what if it was?” Nic asks in return.

“I’d tell you to keep it.”

Waverly’s had enough of their conversation. She knows she’s being unreasonable but she’s not ready to have the real talk they so clearly need.

She stands but stumbles, the alcohol rushing to her head.

Nic quickly steps forward and catches her. 

Waverly wrenches herself back as if burned. She’s angry. She’s embarrassed. And she's confused. Nic confuses her.

Waverly sneers, not something she often does. Nic would almost be honored to see this side of her if it wasn’t for the words what followed.

“Do not touch me, Deputy. I’m not like that.”

Nic is unable to hide the look of hurt and confusion that crosses her face. She quickly pulls her offending arms to her side, and keeps ‘em there unmoving, as if to show Waverly that they won’t be reaching for her no more.

She didn’t think she was pushing Waverly in any one way but maybe she was without realizing.

“I’m awful sorry, Waverly. I ain’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I swear I wasn’t tryna touch you like that.”

Nic takes a large step back to put even more space between ‘em.

Nic had forgotten this feeling, Of getting it so very wrong.

Least she won’t get a beating out of it.

She thinks of Penny then. She had liked to flirt with Nic. Liked to touch her arms and play with her hair. Then one day, after months and months of this, Nic leaned in for more.

She still swears Penny closed the gap between them. Swears Penny kissed her first. 

It was ten seconds of bliss. Nic couldn’t believe her luck.

But that’s something she ain’t never had. She knows that now.

Penny pulled back first too. No, ripped back. With anger alight in her eyes. Nic ain’t never been so scared in her life. She was 14. Penny was a few years older. She slapped her then. Called her disgusting, called her the devil, and told her she better get on and never come back.

Nic cried all the way home, her cheek still pink from the hit.

Penny set her brothers on her the next day. They caught her coming out the store. Beat her halfway dead while calling her every name under the sun. Took her tobacco too. That really got her goat. It was unopened. She had only just bought it. Weren’t cheap neither.

She was always more careful after that. Let girls kiss her first. Hid her tobacco in her boot.

At least Nic knows Waverly won’t sic anyone on her. She’s too damn sweet.

Nic looks up finally, scared to see Penny in Waverly’s countenance. But instead she sees regret, guilt and plain ol’ sadness.

“Nic- I-” Waverly stammers.

Nic shakes her head. “I understand. Let me get on.”

Nic wants to run away. Go home and lick her wounds. So she does and Waverly looks as lost as she was when Nic arrived.

Nic keeps working alongside Black Badge as they need her.  It’s not that often but she seems to have taken on the role of a liaison between the two departments.

Liaison.

That’s French apparently. Nic met a Frenchman once, in a saloon on the edge of town. Almost wished she could grow a moustache after their conversation. Thinking back she probably fixated on it cos she ain’t understand a single word what come outta his mouth.

He talked real funny. Hard to imagine a whole country of ‘em. She supposed he felt the same way bout her.

That had made her laugh.

Nic ain’t a fan of keeping Nedley out of the Black Badge goings on, so she clues him in here and there to keep him happy.

Lonnie ain’t even figured out she’s gay yet, judging by the stammering and blushing he gets when she talks to him, so she reckons he’s not too close to cluing in to the demon-hunting business next door.

She decides it’s easier to let him stay in the dark.

Every time she goes next door, Waverly is always looking at her with a real sorry expression. But Nic’s gone let it lie. She never sought Penny out after her hiding. She ain’t that stupid. So she ain’t gonna chase former Miss Teen Purgatory neither.

Waverly intercepts her while she’s walking the street, patrolling. Really she just wanted a bit of fresh air after bein’ cooped up with Lonnie in the station.

“I need to talk to you,” she says seriously.

Nic nods. “Go on ahead.”

Waverly nods, adjusting the script in her mind to factor in no pushback from Nicole. “Right, ok.”

Nic looks at her struggling but remains patient.

“Oh, I've got your coffee,” Waverly says quickly.

Sure enough she has a to-go cup in her hand.

“That you do,” Nic says. She patiently waits for the youngest Earp to hand it over.

Waverly frowns understanding she ain’t gonna reach for it.

Nic has been skipping her daily coffee since their fight. She’s missing it mighty.

Waverly hands it over. Nic accepts the drink carefully and sips politely.

She spits it out. “You tryna kill me, woman?”

“Huh?” Waverly is confused. She grabs it and takes a sip.

Nic watches Waverly’s lips meet where hers left just seconds ago. 

Stop it.

Then Waverly’s spluttering.

They both look at each other and start laughing.

“Sorry, Deputy. I'm an idiot.”

Waverly hopes she’s getting the point across that she’s not just referring to the coffee.

Waverly steps closer.

“Gosh Waverly, if you're an idiot, then I must be awful stupid.”

Nic steps closer.

Now there’s hardly any space between them.

Nic takes in Waverly’s soft, open expression and her heart starts racing.

Waverly starts rambling about unicorns and Nic barely hears it.

When Waverly leans in and kisses her, she kisses back immediately without hesitation.

And in that moment she has to concede that she is stupid. Awful stupid. But she ain’t regret it one bit.

Kissing Waverly is her favorite thing to do.

She can't think properly for thoughts of that girl.

It scares her. It makes her feel alive.

Then Waverly starts wondering why they're only kissing. 

It's a damn good question.

Nic might be a demon, but she ain't gon love on a girl based on false pretenses.

That ain't her way.

So the kissing will stay kissing ‘til she musters up the courage to tell her more.

It’s when she declines going to the Homestead for the fifth time in a row that Waverly starts to realize something’s up.

It was fun and hot, making out in Nic’s office or the supply closet or the Black Badge conference room.

But Waverly wants more.

Nic wants to give her more. She was happy to open up her home to Waverly. Even showed her her tomatoes.

But she keeps dodging the Homestead.

Waverly’s bout to blow her lid when Nic speaks seriously. “We need to talk. Will you stop by at my place tonight?”

They never do have that talk, push it down the line amidst the chaos of Willa’s return.

They have an unspoken agreement that they’ll return to it when things calm down some.

Then Willa forces Nic’s hand. Shoots her right in the chest in front of Waverly.

Bitch .

But of course, Nic don't die. Don't even come close.

Waverly rushes to her side in tears, ripping open her shirt to treat the wound.

But there’s nothing.

She knows instantly Nic's a Rev but shouts behind her anyway. “It's ok, she's got a vest.”

Quick thinkin’. God, she’s smart.

Nic winces, tries to catch Waverly’s eyes but she ain’t letting her.

“Thank God, baby girl,” Wynonna calls.

Then she’s running off to save the town and Waverly and Nic are alone. She finally looks at the Deputy, sees her sorry eyes. Sees guilt and shame in there too, all those things Nic knows like the back of her hand.

And Nic knows she’s got some explaining to do.

When the dust settles, Willa is gone and Bobo too.

Nic talks. Starts all the way back in 1891.

Tells Waverly everything, top to bottom.

Waverly lets her finish, never interrupting, just listening silently.

When Nic is done, Waverly holds her gaze for a long time.

What she’s tryna find, Nic ain’t know. Hopes to god Waverly ain’t looking for her soul. She ain’t sure she still has one.

The Deputy has spent so long alone ya think she wouldn’t fear the rejection but she does. Maybe more than Hell.

“Is this a game? A way to get to the Earp heir?” Waverly finally asks, afraid of the answer.

“No,” Nic states plainly.

Waverly waits for Nic to elaborate, but she realizes she isn’t going to.

“Is that it, cowboy?”

“Yes.” Nic decides she ain’t gonna embellish. It’s not her way, anyhow. She’s already laid herself bare, if that ain’t enough, then so be it.

Waverly thinks a little longer before seeming to accept it.

That night, the kissing don’t stay kissing.

And later, as she lay awake, Nic gazes at her angel and tries to ignore the feeling of doom in her chest.

“So you turned my sister queer.”

Nic puts down her veggie burger (which Wynonna is glad of because the sight offends her). She’s eating at her desk today and catching up on paperwork.

“Well she ain't turn me. That honor went to Mrs Tenning. She was the pastor's wife in my hometown. Reckoned she looked awful pretty in her Sunday best when I was a girl.”

Wynonna laughs imagining a little Nic, legs swinging in the pews, sermon in full swing as she's daydreaming about the pastor's wife.

Nic wonders if she should’ve paid more attention, maybe could’ve kept herself out of Hell. But all she remembers is Mrs Tenning round features and her caterwaulin’ husband. He was far too loud.

“Don’t you hurt her, Deputy Haught,” Wynonna says fiercely, hint of humor gone.

“I’ll do my best,” she says. And she means it.

Wynonna nods before stealing a few fries and exiting the room.

Miss Waverly’s been acting different.

Nic thought it was cos of Bobo’s reveal in that tree hut, that she’s not a true Earp, but now she ain’t so sure.

Waverly even tastes different.

Nic is in her garden when Waverly saunters over.

“Hey, baby,” Nic greets. She stands and wipes her brow.

Waverly sighs. “I’m bored.”

“Ya can join me here.”

Nic’s hard at it doing some weedin’. She’s let ‘em run a bit rampant and it’s time to get it under control.

Waverly scoffs, makes to kick Nic’s tomatoes and then stops herself. That was weird.

Nic doesn’t catch it. Moves on to the next section of garden that needs her attention.

“You know, for a Revenant, you’re awfully normal,” Waverly says, watching her at her task.

“So I’ve been told,” says the Deputy.

“Come on, let’s go to the bar,” Waverly says.

Nic chuckles, thinking it ain’t a serious offer. “It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

Nic doesn’t look up from the dirt.

Waverly huffs. “I want a drink.”

“Got some kombucha in the back of the fridge,” Nic says as she pulls at a particularly tough weed.

“I don’t want kombucha,” Waverly says petulantly. “Come on, Red.”

Red? Nic ain’t like that. She looks up quickly but Waverly looks sweet as ever.

“You go on, I’ll pick ya up later.”

Waverly huffs. “Fine. Go to Hell, Nic.”

And it would be innocuous enough, a passing statement of no importance, except Waverly has spent long nights holding Nic and listening to her talk about her time in Hell and all that entails.

If it’s just a joke, it ain’t a funny one.

Nic stumbles as if struck. “Ain’t gotta worry bout that darlin’, been there done that heading that way again.”

Waverly recovers, understanding what she said.

When she tries to apologize, Nic escapes to take a long shower.

It’s under the stream of water that she gets to wondering about what could be going on with her girl.

Chapter Text

“You scared of me, Haught Stuff?” Wynonna asks one day, poppin’ up outta nowhere in the station break room and nearly givin’ the old Rev a heart attack.

Ask her a year ago and Nic might’ve said yes. Or been more philosophical about it at least. 

Ain’t scared of nothing but the scythe hanging above my head.

But she ain’t tryna be poetical, and well, she’s seen this girl vomit on her boots one too many times to be ‘fraid of her, so instead she just shakes her head.

“Skinny thing like you? I’m scared for ya, ya liver must be close to packin’ it in.”

Wynonna disagrees as she pats her liver, or rather the side of her hip where she assumes her liver must be. “No way, we have a deal. Once the curse is done, we’ll take it easy.”

Nic falters just a little, thinking about when the curse is dealt with truly and what that'll mean for her.

Meanwhile, Waverly approaches, having caught the end of their conversation.

“Your liver’s up a bit more, under the breast,” Waverly corrects.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Wynonna says automatically before adjusting her hand placement. Then she curls and speaks to the new spot affectionately. “I know I know, you're my baby girl too.”

Waverly rolls her eyes.

Wynonna speaks to Nic suddenly. “Then how come you’ve never been to the Homestead?”

It takes a while for the Deputy to realize the Heir’s returned to her original line of questioning. Shit.

The answer is that the bedrock of the place is made of ammolite, preventing Revenants from stepping foot there. But she ain’t about to say that.

Instead she deflects. “I’m wanting more’n whiskey for breakfast.”

“So Casa del Earp isn’t good enough for you, huh? Well la-di-da.” Wynonna straightens and assumes a look of exaggerated offense.

Nic scoffs. She ain’t never been accused of bein’ la-di-da in her whole long life.

Waverly interrupts. “Well Wy, we didn’t think you’d want…”

She pauses suggestively and Wynonna quickly, and regretfully, cottons on.

“Ew no thanks, I don't need to hear my baby sister’s lady lovin’.”

Nic blushes to the color of her hair. Waverly seems unbothered.

She turns quickly to her sister as if suddenly remembering something. “Oh, and I need to talk to you about your taxes-”

“Sorry baby girl, Dolls is calling me-”

Wynonna skips out right quick and Nic is left to marvel at her girlfriend, the master manipulator.

“You ain't ever play me like that, do ya?” she asks.

Waverly just smirks and places a soft kiss on her cheek.

God damn, she's gone as a girl can get.

Turns out Waverly was possessed. Had a demon called Mictian up in her.

Nasty thing but it ain't had much to grab hold of with Waverly being sweet as she is. The nicest girl in Purgatory. Poor demon had god awful luck if ya think about it.

So Mictian jumped into Wynonna and had a bit more to play with.

They got it out of her in the end. Exorcized it, killed it and called it a day.

Nic watched it get sent down in flames. Couldn't look away. Ain't never seen it from the outside before. Mighty grim.

Waverly couldn’t watch, turned her head into Nic’s shoulder instead. They ain’t say much but Waverly was extra needy that night and if Nic was being honest, she was too.

It was in the dark that Waverly admitted she had a secret; a parting gift from Mictian.

Wynonna was pregnant.

Nic still ain’t go to the homestead, but Waverly’s little trick seemed to divert Wynonna and well she’s had more important things to worry about these days.

So Nic thought she was in the clear. She forgot all about Doc Holliday.

At first, it was like they was two lines running side-by-side but never destined to meet. It ain’t bother her too badly, the fella sounded like a bit of a rogue anyways.

But then she found out that he was that Doc Holliday and so she started avoiding him on purpose.

She supposes he probably dealt to hundreds of outlaws and ne’er-do-wells as Wyatt’s right hand but she ain’t wanna take no chances. She feared that cos she was a lady she might be more memorable. And she ain’t need him knowing her secret. ‘specially as the Heir was sweet on him.

They finally met at Shorty’s. It was... underwhelming.

“Deputy Haught, it’s a long overdue pleasure,” Doc drawls. “Miss Waverly speaks very highly of you.”

Now that makes Nic smile. She always considered herself the lowest of the low. She still can’t believe an angel like Waverly would ever think her highly.

Nic recovers her wits to tip her Stetson and extend her hand. She prays it ain’t sweating. “John Henry, it's good ta meet ya finally.”

Wynonna whispers to Waverly loudly. “Is it weird that we’ve got the same taste in fella?”

Waverly scoffs and shoves her lightly.

Doc leaves to Wynonna’s side and they set off towards the dartboard. Waverly joins her girl at the bar. She heads behind the counter to pull a beer when she notices Nic pouting.

“Babe?”

“He ain’t notice me even a little,” Nic mutters.

Waverly chuckles. “That’s a good thing, babe.”

Nic huffs. “I robbed 11 banks. I was wanted in six counties. I was-”

“-the rootinest tootinest?” Waverly interjects with a cheeky grin.

Nic glares and Waverly has to suppress her laughter. “No. I was badass,” she mumbles.

Waverly smiles and kisses Nic’s frown. “You are badass, baby.”

Nic sulks for a few more seconds before leaning into the kiss. She lets herself get carried away. So what if an old cowboy ain’t remember her? She's got a whole section in a museum.

“Get a room,” Wynonna shouts from afar. Waverly pulls the finger at her without breaking their kiss.

They thought Doc might be the father. Then they thought he might not be. Nic ain’t wanna touch that one with a ten-foot pole. Got even worse when they found out it could be a darn Revenant.

Waverly flinched then, thought about her own questionable paternity and her “father” Ward Earp. Ward weren’t a good daddy, even worse when he was drunk, and he was only ever two things: asleep or drunk. Waverly never understood that it was impossible to win his affections, and Wynonna had long given up trying to convince her younger sister to let it go. Waverly always was determined. Wynonna would watch her baby sister try and try and try only to receive the barest of acknowledgements in return. It fucked her off. She’d told Ward so once and got the belt for it. Miserable bastard.

So little Waverly would fetch daddy his beer, find him the remote, straighten his boots on the porch and cover him with a blanket when he passed out on the couch. Ward never said so much as a thank you. Willa thought it was pathetic but Wynonna always made sure to say thank you to Waverly on his behalf.

But Waverly gets it now. She was never an Earp. Mama left him to raise her love-child. Can’t say she’d be too pleased by that either. 

Laughter bubbles up from her throat unbidden. She hopes Bobo’s not her father. Or maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She’d be closer to Nic than she thought. And maybe little baby Earp, too.

Wynonna was getting big and there weren’t no hiding it. The Heir was plainly pregnant. The Revenants were like bloodhounds, baying for that child, desperate for a way to keep outta hell just a little bit longer.

Made Nic sick.

She ain't ever give much thought to kids, on account she never much cared for the way they was made.

Was a few times she had men tell her they could see her straight, but as romantic as that sounded, it just ain't never tickle her fancy. 

She ain't think of her own parents for the longest time but they was good, especially having a hellion for a daughter. And Uncle Nic was the best of men. If she compares herself to ‘em all, she's sure she ain't got the same makings.

So she ain't ever spare a thought for the possibility. In her stories, cowboys was always coming across orphans or urchins what needed rearing. But that ain't real life. She had her tomatoes and Miss Calamity Jane, that was about all she was fit for.

Nic brought Wynonna a couple of donuts one mornin’ on her way in to the station. Weren't nothing special, she just did it to do it and it made sense now that the girl was eatin’ for two.

Wynonna's face lit up like she'd gotten the keys to a brand new Harley. Then the next second it looked like she was gonna cry. Them hormones ain't no joke.

Wynonna placed a hand on her belly then and softly spoke. “Thank you, auntie Nic.”

Now that was something. 

That was maybe one of the best things that had ever happened to the Deputy. Couldn't wipe the dumb smile off her face all day.

It always seemed to happen this way. Everything goes to shit all at once.

Wynonna goes into labour while two demon biddies is tryna resurrect their evil demon husband.

She stops them, cos she’s the damn best heir them Earps ever had, but that ain’t stop the Revenants coming for her bub.

They hole up in Shorty’s, just her and Nic cos the others is seeing to the hoards of hellspawn outside, and it becomes pretty apparent that Nic’s gonna have to see her all the way through this alone.

Wynonna grunts in pain. She's lying back on the pool table, spread eagled and dilated and swearing like a sailor.

“How's it looking down there, Haught,” she asks through quick breaths.

“I ain't like to speculate,” says the red-head who seems to be worried about Wynonna’s modesty; her eyes are squeezed shut.

“I don’t want you to speculate, ya dumb cowboy. Open your damn eyes.”

So Nic does, slowly and one at a time.

It sure is somethin' to behold. She’s reminded of helping her dad with calving on the farm. She tells Wynonna as much.

“I'm not a cow, Haught,” the Heir grits.

“Suppose not,” Nic concedes.

Suddenly the baby is coming in earnest and there’s nothin’ they can do to stop it. Nic holds Wynonna’s hand and then moves to guide the bub out.

She's speechless. She ain't knew they came this small. There's nothing to her.

Waverly storms in then to see Nic’s soft face gazing down at the newborn in her arms.

“Let's meet Mama, little darlin’,” she coos.

Wynonna can't help but cry as Nic hands her over, more gentle then she’s ever been in her whole life.

The sweet moment is interrupted by hollering Revenants, banging at the door.

Waverly speaks and the two women start; they didn't notice her arrival. “Nonna, we gotta go.”

Right. The plan. Wynonna reluctantly hands over her child and the couple skip out the back.

The Revenants break in and Wynonna takes up Peacemaker with all the rage of a mother.

Waverly crosses over the border with Alice. Nothin’ happens. Turns out God can cut the Earps some slack. He just ain't like to do it often.

So Waverly ain’t part-Revenant and neither’s her new niece.

Waverly looks back at Nic who can’t follow. Nic waits at the border, watching the girls disappear out of sight. It hurts a whole lot more than she thought it would. She spares a thought for Wynonna, who must be feeling it a whole lot worse.

Waverly delivers little Alice to Gus, who’s standing by to get her the hell outta Purgatory and away from the Earp curse. Nic watches the helicopter take to the sky.

Nic waits at the border, feeling useless. She puts her hand over the boundary and it starts to sizzle hotly. She’s fascinated by the effect, even as it stings painfully. But she ain’t no stranger to pain and she’s learned to not let it bother her.

Suddenly Waverly is beside her, snatching her hand back.

“Baby, stop,” Waverly scolds gently.

Nic is a little embarrassed. She takes her hand back and shoves it in her pocket.

Waverly simply tuts and draws it back out. Nic watches as Waverly tenderly cradles her palm, reviewing the damage. For some reason it makes her heart twinge once more.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come back,” Nic jokes lamely.

But Waverly ain’t laugh. Her lips form a thin line as she looks at Nic’s burnt hand closely. Nic blushes at her concern.

“Why’d you do it?” Waverly says.

Nic looks at her reddened hand and shrugs. “It’s a neat trick.”

“No, not that.” Waverly looks exasperated. She drops Nic's palm.

The Deputy is confused.

“You had the baby in your hands, Nic. The next Earp Heir. You could’ve leveraged it for your freedom.” Waverly seems angry about that and Nic ain't know why.

“Her. Leveraged her for my freedom.”

Nic ain’t know why she’s chosen now to defend a baby’s personhood. But it felt right. It makes Waverly angrier. “Are you stupid? Do you want to die?”

“Not since I met you,” Nic says easily.

Waverly stills, looks up to see soulful eyes upon her.

Waverly has to look away, it's too much. “Why’d you do it? Make me… care about you?”

“I’m sorry,” Nic whispers.

And she is. Awful sorry. Sorry for the whole lot. “If it’s any consolation, I ain’t mean to,” she offers lamely.

Waverly starts laughing. Then she starts crying. “What are we gonna do?” she says between tears.

Nic opens her arms and Waverly walks into ‘em. “You’re gonna be ok.”

On the drive back to Nic’s apartment, Waverly is deep in thought. When they arrive at Nic’s place and park up, she’s pulled from her reverie.

“I shouldn’t have said “care about you”,” she admits.

“What?” Nic ain’t know what she’s referring to. She’s tired and ready to turn in. Dolls called and apparently they killed a whole lot of Revenants tonight. Good riddance.

“At the border. I meant love, not care. I love you,” Waverly explains.

“You love me?” Nic asks quietly.

Waverly nods once. “I love you.”

There’s an ocean between Nic's ears. Waves crashing. Which is strange cos she ain’t ever been to the sea. Only seen it on TV.

She looks at Waverly and it hurts. She ain’t wanna say it back so instead she kisses her like it's urgent. It's all tongue and teeth and they clash in the front of the police vehicle. Somehow they make their way inside.

That night she shows it to her instead. Says it every way but out loud.

Nic knows it's silly to think she's protecting them by not saying it, knows that the ship sailed long ago, right about when she stepped foot in Shorty's and helped a girl with a broken bar tap.

As she lay in bed, unable to sleep, Nic thinks about her cowboy tales and how they all end the same. The villains get got, and the cowboy rides off alone.

I'm a goddamn sucker.

Waverly's just about to nod off when Nic finally says fuck it.

"I love you, too," she whispers.

"I know," Waverly mumbles and together they fall into sleep.

Chapter Text

If she ain’t met Alice herself she might’ve thought it was all a strange dream.

Just like that life returned to the way it was. Wynonna was drinkin’ like a fish and Nic was chuckin' her in a holdin’ cell to sleep it off.

Waverly'd pick her sister up when she was feelin’ charitable. More often than not, she left her to snore under a scratchy blanket on a rickety old cot.

Lonnie complained about her snorin' so much that Nic got stuck with the night shifts. She only pretended to mind so she’d have somethin’ over Lonnie when she needed to get out the more annoyin’ police tasks like supervisin’ the crowd at the Great Chili Cook Off. It’s been known to end in fists and she ain't understand it. Ain't it just a chili competition? Nedley had looked at her like she was Lonnie when she said that.

Truth is, she’s glad she can keep an eye on the Heir. First she thought it was like when you come upon a snake at a campfire. You ain’t never take your eye off it, cos you can’t be sure when it’s gon strike. But it’s been a long time since she was afeared of Wynonna and her gun. No, she's plain old concerned.

So Nic kept an eye on her, chucked an extra blanket over her and turned her on her side to make sure she ain't choke on her own vomit.

But every sunrise the Heir was up and ready to hit the heavy bag with Dolls. It was mighty impressive, all things considered. The girl had a liver of steel.

Things continued like that for a time. Until Mama Earp came to town.

Michelle just burst into Shorty’s one night and it was a good thing too cos ain’t nobody would’ve survived that reunion sober.

Ain’t hard to see where Wynonna got her wild heart and Waverly got her wits. Michelle was fearsome. And she drank alcohol like she’d been doin’ it all her life. Makes Nic wonder if those girls got anything from their daddy asides that damned curse.

“Who are you then?” Michelle asks Nic, suddenly appearing in the corner of the bar that Nic had retreated to. Nic couldn’t keep up wit’ them Earp girls. She needed a break so she found herself a stool. And after two tries, she sat in it. She might be drunk.

“Deputy Nic Haught, ma’am,” she says. She goes to tip her hat before she can remember it’s on the stool next to her. She's definitely drunk.

Michelle regards the Deputy skeptically. Nic ain’t ever felt more wantin’ in her whole life. She feels naked without her hat and reaches a self-conscious hand to her hair.

Nic never met Shae's mama, the girl was a runaway. And before that she weren’t really one ya brought home to meet the parents. She’d had to high-tail it out of more than a few bedroom windows in her time just to escape ‘em parents. It’s how she got the scar on her wrist. Caught it on a nail right before she tipped off a roof. That’s when she decided to only kiss girls who lived on the ground floor.

Michelle finally speaks, purposefully omitting Nic’s title. “Well Nic Haught , there a reason you been hangin’ around my Waverly?”

Nic might be nervous, and a little drunk, but she ain’t one to wilt and well, she’s had a few more beers ‘n none. She straightens and lets her hand fall to her side. “I think that’s somethin’ you oughta ask ya Waverly.”

Something flickers across Michelle’s face but Nic ain’t so drunk that she misses it. Looks an awful lot like hurt. “She ain’t wanna talk to me,” Michelle says softly.

Nic nods. It’s true enough. When Michelle arrived, Waverly had pulled Nic into the back room and had a little freak out. 

“What the hell, Nic? I can’t-.” Waverly looks at Nic with wide eyes. Nic feels helpless. She ain’t know what the heck to do. Waverly paces the room while Nic leans against the door.

“Why is she even… And now? Why now?” Waverly asks Nic who can’t seem to find any words at all.

Waverly continues her frenzied pacing.

Nic does the only thing she can think of. She approaches slowly and steps in her path. She puts her hands on Waverly’s shoulders. The youngest Earp ducks her head when Nic tries to catch her eye.

That’s fine. Nic speaks calmly. “Breathe.”

Waverly shakes her head and tries to break away to continue her fretting. But Nic repeats herself. Assured. “Breathe.”

Waverly finally relents and impatiently pulls air into her lungs. Nic breathes alongside her, trying to set the pace. She breathes in slowly and out even slower. Waverly matches until they’re in sync. It’s quiet. Music from the jukebox barely permeates the room. The sound of pool balls knocking are muted and not unpleasant.

Waverly’s eyes drifted closed at some point and Nic gazes upon her face unashamedly. She doesn’t offer any words of wisdom, just her presence.

“I forgot what she looked like,” Waverly speaks. Nic can see that she’s trying to conjure a picture of her mother from two decades ago in her mind.

Nic hates to see the sorrow that etches across Waverly’s face when she fails.

“Say the word and I’ll toss her in a cell,” Nic blurts.

Waverly chuckles and opens her eyes. She's not surprised to see Nic looking at her. She often catches the Deputy gazing at her. It makes her feel seen. Known. Loved.

Nic kisses her softly. “C’mon, let’s get out there. I’ll be right beside you.”

And it’s just what Waverly needed to hear.

“She’s just needin’ some time,” Nic offers.

Michelle scoffs. “Gave her twenty odd years.”

“No,” Nic says with a hint of fire, courtesy of the drink. “You took ‘em. You took them years and ran, and you ain’t look back neither”.

It's unforgiving but Nic's come to realize that Waverly’s sweetness is a goddamn miracle.

Michelle looks at her feet, stewing in the tough words and searching for an answer. “Weren’t my girls I was runnin’ from,” she admits softly.

The Earp curse. A mean husband. A stifling small town; on one hand.

Willa. Wynonna. Waverly; on the other.

Michelle looks up at the Deputy. “Don’t suppose you ever loved a bad man?”

“No, ma’am,” Nic responds. “Weren’t ever my way.”

Michelle nods in understanding. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

And maybe that's Ward's gift: a place for the Earp girls to lay everything. Blame, guilt, shame; all the things you can't carry with you if you want to rebuild.

Michelle returns to Wynonna at the table, passing Waverly as she goes. She ain’t try to talk to her youngest daughter this time, opting to give her space.

“You ok?” Waverly asks Nic, concerned by what her mother could’ve said.

Nic nods.

“Did she-” Waverly pauses. She’s not really sure what she’s asking.

Nic shakes her head anyway. “Just wants to know why I’m hangin’ round.”

Waverly steps into Nic’s space and raises her eyebrow. “Well, I’d also like to know.”

Nic smirks and leans in. “Well, see, I ain’t been sent on my way yet.”

“Lucky me,” Waverly says coyly. She steps between Nic’s legs and places her arms on her shoulders, linking her hands behind her neck.

Nic shakes her head again and moves her hands to rest on Waverly's hips. “I’m the lucky one.”

Nic’s adoration is plain as day. Her eyes gaze upon Waverly and the room around them falls away.

“You keep talkin’ like that and I’ll kiss you in this bar full of people,” Waverly threatens cheekily, just as lovestruck, their lips just inches away from each other.

“There’s other people here?” Nic asks, eyes never leaving the planes of Waverly’s face.

Waverly blushes and Nic continues to admire softly. Nic doesn't need a kiss, just her near, under her fingertips.

Waverly kisses Nic without a care in the world for the people in the room. The sweetest girl in Purgatory and her sorry demon.

Michelle ain’t expect that.

Wynonna is sending demons down at record speeds. And when she isn’t doing that, she’s drinking. She feels every moment away from Alice like a stab in her chest.

Her Mama’s back and her baby’s gone. It’s upside down and it’s messing with her head.

So she throws herself into work. With Doc and Dolls at her side, she’s dispatching Revenants like she was born for it.

No, that was Willa, remember? You killed her.

Wynonna needs a drink.

She’s coming off 12 hours staking out a Revenant speakeasy called Beelzeclub. Very stupid name. Wynonna may have laughed . In the end, there was only one demon inside. They thought it would be teeming and so she’s more than a little disappointed.

“One dead Revenant is a win, Wynonna,” Dolls says in that endearing way where he’s trying and failing to be encouraging.

Wynonna grunts. “You wanna drink about it?”

Dolls shakes his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Boooooooo.”

“Goodnight Wynonna,” Dolls says softly before he leaves for the night.

Wynonna goes back to the Revenant club. It kills two birds with one stone; she can get a drink or six and she can kill a few more revenants if they happen to stop by. It’s one of her better plans; a win-win. Dolls would be pissed. Doc, too. Hell, probably the whole lot.

Wynonna has just beaten some asshole at pool when a beautiful woman approaches. “Rack ‘em up,” she all but commands.

The woman’s sultry tone breaks through Wynonna’s drunken haze. She wouldn’t ordinarily take orders from random strangers but she does want to play another game and her previous opposition just ran off with his tail between his legs.

The stranger doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, she simply grabs a cue and taps her foot. Brat.  

Wynonna shrugs and sets them up.

When she's done she looks up to see the woman smirking and leaning on her cue.

“Look lady, you’re smoking hot and I’m like a two on the Kinsey scale but you’ll have better luck over there.”

Wynonna nods her head towards a group of college-age girls in the corner. Wynonna isn't looking for her kinda trouble tonight, she’s just here to drink and kill demons, and the demons aren’t playing at the moment.

“I’m happy where I am,” says the stranger with a shrug.

Wynonna lets it be and returns to the game.

The stranger wins convincingly. Wasn’t even close. Wynonna frowns. She doesn’t often lose. At pool anyway. Life seems to shit on her constantly.

“You’re good,” she huffs, begrudgingly impressed.

The woman shakes her head. “Not me, darlin’. I’m bad as they come.”

Wynonna returns to the club every so often, drinking with the woman and playing pool. It’s strangely comforting and a relief to be away from the concern of her sister and friends. And she doesn’t think she could handle any more of Doc’s puppy dog eyes.

She hasn’t had to kill any revenants though, they seem to be steering well clear. Wusses.

That is until one day when she comes in on a whim and sees her new friend scaring the shit out of a customer.

“Damn, what’d he do to you?” Wynonna asks from the doorway. It’s barely gone 12 but she reckons it’s 5 o’clock somewhere. She had figured out that the stranger worked the bar but she's starting to realize it's not so upstanding. Which shouldn't be surprising considering it's a popular haunt for demons.

The stranger turns around, eyes red and face contorted into a demonic snarl.

“Oh fuck, Shae. You’re a fuckin’ Rev?” Wynonna starts.

Shae shrugs. “Told ya I was as bad as they come, didn’t I?”

Wynonna gripes. “I thought you were meaning like Michael Jackson Bad, not fucking hellspawn bad, Jesus Christ.”

Shae scoffs. “Ain’t know nothin’ about Jesus Christ being involved.”

Wynonna raises Peacemaker instantly. It glows red.

Shae ignores that and turns back to the man seated before her. “You better hope she doesn’t shoot cos I’ll drag you to hell right alongside me.”

The man starts shaking. Shae speaks to Wynonna over her shoulder. “This bastard thought I wouldn’t notice he was skimming off the top.”

She again faces the man who is now whimpering in fear. “Well, I did notice. I was waiting to see if you’d notice me noticing.”

Wynonna still has her gun raised but if Shae feels it on her back, she doesn't stumble. “You think you can steal from a demon? I’ve seen the Devil.”

The man starts sobbing. Wynonna doesn’t get how Shae can be so blasé with Peacemaker pointed at her. She looks at the dude.

“Let him go, Shae, before he pisses himself.”

Shae sighs and lets him leave. The man stumbles out of there. Probably headed straight to the nearest church.

Shae looks past Peacemaker to Wynonna. “I haven’t actually seen the Devil. I just tell people that.”

She smiles charmingly.

What the fuck?

Shae sighs, bored. “I thought you were cool with Revs?”

“What?!” Wynonna squeaks.

“Baby girl!”

Wynonna sounds upset. She stands on Nic’s porch and is about to yell again when Waverly opens the door, bleary eyed and half-asleep.

“Nonna, it’s midnight.”

“Where’s Nic?” she asks impatiently. “Nicole! Get your ass out here!” she shouts.

“Are you drunk?” Waverly asks.

Wynonna ignores the question. “Nicole!”

Nic enters the doorway rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She puts a hand on Waverly’s hip.  “Damn Earp, hush now, you’ll scare my tomatoes.”

Wynonna scoffs. “Baby girl, come here.”

Waverly doesn’t move.

“Waverly. Now,” Wynonna commands.

“No, Wynonna.” Waverly is quiet but firm.

Wynonna doesn’t say a thing more, just raises her gun at Nic.

Well, it’s been real.

It glows bright red and before Wynonna can think about pulling the trigger, Waverly steps between them. Wynonna realizes that her sister isn’t shocked like she should be. She lowers her gun in confusion.

“You knew?” she accuses.

Waverly nods.

“How long?”

“Does it matter?” Waverly counters.

“Jesus Christ, your girlfriend’s a Rev and your sister’s a Rev killer. Of course it matters.”

And Waverly knows that. God, she knows that. But she just can’t stop marching towards the inevitable. So she’ll take what comes on the chin. She shrugs. Because what can you say?

Wynonna scoffs. “It will matter. It’ll matter when I send her to Hell with the rest of the 77.”

Waverly flinches but doesn’t move. Nic places a gentle hand on the small of her back and leans into her, hoping her touch will provide comfort.

“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, Red ?”

Nic hums. “Uh, no thank you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Wynonna mutters.

Waverly sighs. “Come inside.”

They sit around the table. Somethin’ like this calls for whiskey so Nic gets ta pourin’. Wynonna shoots one back before snatching the bottle for herself n’ pourin’ another.

Nic sips at her drink and tells her story. She wonders what it would’ve been like if Josiah or Edwin had given her the same courtesy. Probably wouldn’t’ve made a lick ‘a difference. She can only hope it does now.

Nic finishes her tale. Waverly held her hand above the table the entire time. Nic liked that. Wynonna ain’t comment on it. Ain’t comment at all which ain’t like her. The Heir ain’t never been so quiet.

Wynonna finally speaks. “Virginia?”

Nic groans. “That’s what you take away from my story?”

“Ginny?” she tries again.

Nic puts her head in her hands and Wynonna laughs. Waverly does too. Nic lets them have their fun even as she prays Ginny don't become a nickname.

“This some ploy? To get to the Earp heir?” Wynonna asks when the laughter dies out.

Nic rolls her eyes. “I could lead a trail o’ donuts off a cliff and you'd be done.”

Wynonna doesn’t bother denying it. Thinks it’d probably be a nice way to go actually.

Then Nic tilts her head thoughtfully. “I've had ya in the drunk tank countless times. Truthfully, I woulda done it then, were I so inclined.”

Wynonna appreciates the honesty. Then she mutters something about sexy noble cowboys and stands to leave.

She looks Nic dead in the eyes. “I won’t kill you.”

Nic shakes her head. “You have to.”

Waverly flinches but Wynonna’s eyes turn fierce. “That’s the mistake people always make. Telling me I have to . I’m the goddamn Earp Heir. I do whatever the Hell I want.”

She’s all fire and heat. The Wynonna of old. Waverly’s hero.

Then the Heir pauses. “Might kill Shae Pressman though.”

Nic spits out her drink.

Chapter Text

Waverly hasn’t heard much about this Shae. Well, she hasn’t heard much from Nic . She understands the Deputy is trying to spare her the details. But Nic should know, details are kind of her jam.

Waverly knows almost all there is to know about Wyatt Earp and the people he killed (she has the murder board to prove it) and that includes the notorious Lady Shae. There isn’t much information on the woman in the archives but Waverly recalls she was a bank robber that hit one joint too many and the law caught up to her. 

So Waverly’s not entirely clueless. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to hear Nic’s side of the story, especially after her reaction last night.

After spitting out her drink, Nic had quietly excused herself to bed. Waverly then quickly set her sister up on the couch - where Calamity Jane curled up at Wynonna’s feet - before joining her girlfriend.

But Nic didn’t have much to say when pushed.

“Used to run together way back when.”

Waverly had thought Nic was pausing to collect her thoughts before continuing but she soon realized that that was it. One measly sentence. Then her girlfriend turned onto her side and muttered a soft “Good night”.

Waverly had had to suppress a sigh. A sexy, laconic cowboy seems like a great idea until you want them to talk. Then it’s like pulling teeth.

Nic had told Waverly about her time in Hell and her time out of it, usually wrapped in each other's arms in the soft hours of the late night/early morning. But the Deputy always skipped over her first death with a few short sentences. All Waverly knows is that Nic got hit and Shae left running. But even she can infer that the wound runs much deeper than Nic is letting on. So the cowboy’s keeping her cards close to her chest. Which is pretty stupid on her part because Waverly’s got quite the imagination.

Waverly is starting to think it’s got something to do with her; Nic's reluctance. All her life, people have felt the need to wrap her in cotton wool. Wynonna spent so long trying to keep her away from their family curse and Willa just didn’t think very much of her at all. The only conclusion she can come to is people don’t think she can handle it. "It” being the crud life throws at you. Waverly sometimes wonders if it’s her own fault. In childhood, she crafted for herself the most pleasing and amicable personality just to survive the curse of her household and then her last name. First it was to earn her father’s love, then it was to give her a fighting chance in this podunk town. After that it was to maintain the popularity and goodwill she had garnered over the years. And now people only ever see her as the peppy and popular cheerleader.

It’s starting to really tick her off.

The next morning, after Wynonna wakes up and complains about the cat fur on her clothes, the trio head to Beelzeclub. Wynonna had asked Waverly to sit this one out but one sharp glare quickly put the Heir in her place.

It’s dark and dingy and everything you’d expect from a demon club. Nic wants to turn around and leave almost immediately.

Shae is sitting at the bar, her back to the entrance, while a worker mops the floors. She recognizes the sound of Wynonna’s footfalls and smiles.

“You better be here to pay your tab,” Shae starts as she turns in her stool.

Surprise takes over her face. Trailing after Wynonna is-

“Red,” Shae breathes, shocked. “It’s been a minute,” she recovers, her face quickly assuming a neutral mask.

Nic simply grunts in reply. Yea, a minute too soon.

Shae smirks. So she’s not going to make it easy.

“What? No hug?” the woman smirks. “Once upon a time you were gonna marry me,” she says coyly. Nic doesn't falter at her familiar bald-faced audacity but she can't help the faint blush that rises from under her collar.

Waverly bristles. Who the fuck?

Waverly might not know much about how things went down but she knows Shae left Nic lying in a pool of her own blood. Well, apparently she left her fiancée.

Meanwhile, Wynonna might as well be invisible. It’s a bit of a blow to the ego. She always thought she was the main character of her story. Wynonna Earp. She steps back to observe the lesbian drama. Maybe she should be live-tweeting this. #Wayhaught vs #Shaehaught

Nic ignores Shae’s comment and decides to ask a question of her own. “When did he get ya?”

Shae frowns. “Less than a year after you. Outside Big City. Banks were catchin’ on so we went on to train cars. Bastard caught us spendin’ large at a nearby watering hole.”

Nic shakes her head at the information. “Told you to lay low when you were hot like that.”

Shae has the good grace to concede. “I never did listen good.”

Shae looks at the woman before her, her trusty Stetson atop her head, handsome as ever. “No hard feelings. Right, Red?”

Shae’s breezy lack of remorse is really starting to tick Waverly off. 

Nic ignores the question. “Go by Nic now.”

Shae nods as if that makes sense. “Like your uncle?”

Nic’s a little stunned by that, feels a pang in her heart and falters. She didn’t think Shae would remember. Nic’s spent decades pretending what they had didn’t have a lick of anything real about it. Cos it fuckin’ hurt when Shae skipped off without so much as a tip of her hat.

Nic’s hand instinctively moves to her stomach. She curses the movement when she sees Shae’s eyes flicker with knowing.

“All’s fair in love n’ outlawin’, ain’t that right Red? And hey, it ain’t take me long to get mine.”

Somehow it hurt more to hear Shae ain’t even last that long without her. They were both doomed from the start. Fools, they were.

Shae speaks once more, she always talked enough for the both of 'em. “You understand, don’t ya? You were cooked, ain’t no use in me gettin’ done in too.”

Nic doesn’t want to give her that so she doesn’t say anything. Let’s Shae talk herself out.

“I did miss ya at night,” Shae admits, almost wistful. “Had a few die for me, but none quite like you.”

It’s Waverly that slaps her in the face.

Comes out of nowhere to shock 'em all. Nic’s busy wondering about the other suckers that were doomed by Shae’s orbit. Hopefully they only got the one trip to Hell.

Shae had stumbled back a few steps, surprised at the force one tiny girl could muster. Surprised and impressed.

“You got her killed and you can’t even pretend to care,” Waverly accuses, eyes alight.

Shae doesn’t bother to cradle her cheek, just shrugs. “She knew what she was getting herself into.”

Shae turns on Waverly and stalks towards her, preparing to show her true face. Waverly doesn’t falter, ready for round two. Wynonna draws Peacemaker quicker than a sneeze.

Shae stops and raises her hands. “Put the gun away, Earp.”

Wynonna keeps her arm raised. “Way I see it, your worker there’s already mopping. Wouldn’t take much to send you down and wash you away.”

Shae folds her arms across her chest. Even with Peacemaker pointed at her she's still cocky as Hell. “Don’t you want my intel? I’ve run a Rev club for decades. Had every last one of ‘em come through these doors.”

Wynonna huffs, not ready to concede. It’s Waverly who pulls on Wynonna’s arm, making her lower her weapon. Nic finally snaps out of her stupor. All she can think about is what Shae used to say all those years ago.

“It’s you and me, Red. Ain’t nobody ever gon love you like I do.”

Nic had believed that for so long. All the way ‘til she met Waverly. But being loved by her ain’t feel like a shot in the gut.

Nic looks at Shae who’s wormed her way out of a trip to Hell. She's got a bad feeling about this.

“She was- I-,” Nic tries as they lay next to each other in bed. Waverly doesn't interrupt, trusting Nic to find her way. She reaches out for the Deputy's hand and gives it a squeeze.

Nic clears her throat. “It was- It was like she held her love in her fist and she only opened it when it suited… I woulda done just about anythin’ to see it just a little.”

Waverly smooths the furrow of Nic’s brow before replacing it with a gentle kiss. She can certainly relate to that. She tucks herself into Nic’s side and rests her head on her chest.

Nic breathes Waverly in. “I ain’t ever thought it could be like this.”

The moonlight streams through the bedroom window. Nic absently strokes Waverly’s forearm, feeling her beneath her fingertips.

“Asked her to marry me under the open sky. We’d been kicked outta a boarding house; they caught us in the same bed. Couldn’t find no other lodgings that would take us so we camped under the stars. My uncle Nic taught me all bout them, how to live by em, how to travel by em, which one’s ta wish on.”

Nic sighs. ”She was the first person to ever love me out in the open. God ain’t make mistakes but he made me. Then he made another girl like me and put her in my path. That’s two mistakes right there. Figured the chances of that had to be awful low. Weren’t about to just chuck that away cos it weren’t perfect."

Waverly wants to disagree vehemently. Wants to remove that thought from her brain and crush it in her hands. A mistake? Never.

Nic whispers softly. "Who could love someone like me?”

It’s a question that spills from Nic and Waverly knows that it’s one that would’ve been posed to Nic by Shae herself.

She clings to Nic tightly. “ I would love someone like you.”

Nic looks at Waverly. “Eh, you loved Champ Hardy. What do you know?” she says with a wry smile.

“Ow!” Nic yelps.

Waverly had pinched her side.

Nic looks at her girl, affronted, but Waverly holds her gaze, refusing to let her look away. “I’ve never loved someone like I love you.”

Nic tries to turn away but Waverly captures her lips. They stay like that, kissing by the light of the moon.

Shae is spinning around in an office chair, Wynonna is chewing gum loudly, Nic excused herself to go to the toilet over an hour ago, and Waverly wants to bang her head against the wall.

They’re in the conference room at Black Badge, trying to get Shae to cooperate. The woman isn’t making it easy. So far she’s only named known demons in the region or ones Wynonna’s already put down.

Waverly can’t tell if she’s doing it on purpose or if she’s just hopeless. It doesn’t help that Wynonna is also being rather useless. Sometimes Waverly feels like the older sister.

“I’m starving,” grumbles Wynonna.

Waverly pinches the bridge of her nose. They ate half an hour ago. 

“Can we get donuts?” Shae asks.

Wynonna perks up and looks eagerly to Waverly like a little kid looks to their mother.

Waverly takes a deep breath.

Things move along, Shae finally provides Wynonna with some good info and they manage to smoke out a few pesky revenants.

Nic stays out of their way, happy to stick to local, demon-free policing. She had the joy of bookin' a Purgatory High student for gettin' a bad grade and swingin' on a teacher. Now she didn't much care for that part, but while she was walkin' the halls she saw a pic of young Waverly with her pom poms. She looked awful cute, even back then.

Home was fine too. She finally caught the rabbit what was eating at her garden. Had a long conversation with her before releasing her into the wild and she's quite sure they came to a mutual understandin'.

So life was goin' good, all things considered. Shae's return ain't spell the end o' the world.

It goes like that for a time, Black Badge doing one thing, Nic doing another.

Waverly was getting a bit fed up with the progress. The odd rat was coming out from hiding to get sent down but it'd been hard-fought and slow-going. 

So slow that what happens next feels so out of left-field.

It seems Shae’s downfall is always the same.

Greed.

She wants to have her cake and eat it too.

Even while she sells out revenants to Wynonna, she plots against her.

And it all comes to head at Dolly Parton Drag Night at Beelzeclub.

Shae had gathered a few of the remaining Revenants and hoped to snatch the heir when the team was distracted by the big wigs and bigger boobs.

Waverly can tell something is up but before she can say anything, the club’s in chaos.

A busty impersonator is belting 9 to 5 while the team come face-to-face with a band of Revenants (Shae is suspiciously absent). Doc shoots a few in quick succession hopin' to slow 'em down. Nic knocks a few on the head (her signature move) and Waverly produces a bat (from where, god only knows) and swings it like a pro, thwacking a Rev across the back of his skull right before he's able to land a hit on Dolls. Nic watches it as if in slow motion. She just mighta fell in love all over again.

It’s utter chaos. Wynonna is shooting and reloading and the floor is mostly flame. Townspeople are fleeing in fear and Nic is taken aback by how good those Dollys are at runnin’ in heels. 

The song finishes and in the air after, all that can be heard is heavy breathing, a demon groaning and Wynonna’s final quip before she shoots him dead. “How dare you interrupt this holiest of nights? What would Dolly say?”

In the wreckage of upturned tables and chairs and charred Rev’s, the crew regroups. Thankfully, none of them have any pressing injuries.

"Where's Shae?" 

They find her in the office out back, nursing a whiskey. 

Wynonna trains her gun finally, her hands jittery from the adrenaline. At least that's what she's telling herself.

“Jesus Shae, what the fuck?”

Shae shrugs. It's as if she's resigned to her fate, even as she holds her chin high.

Wynonna hesitates. “We were friends, weren’t we?”

Shae nods. “Surprised myself with how much I liked ya. Ya reminded me of me.”

Wynonna snorts. Vain asshole.

Shae laughs bitterly. She turns to Waverly. “Do you know what you’re doing, little girl?” Waverly hears the implication. This is what happens to people like me, like Nic.

Waverly doesn’t answer beyond a fierce glare so Shae finally turns to Nic. “I loved you in my own way.”

Nic nods.

Shae can see the Heir wavering, unsure. She stands and looks her dead in the eyes.

“I was there that day y’all got the widows. I was there beside them Revs, banging down the door to Shorty's, trying to get your girl. Wouldn’t’ve thought twice. Would’ve snatched her like they did ya sister all those years ago. Maybe even worse.”

Wynonna shoots her.

Nic watches. “Sorry darlin’.”

Shae just winks and slips away.

Nic just can’t seem to fall asleep. Her mind ain’t wanna stop runnin’. Shae comin’ back and leavin’ once more has stolen her peace. She ain’t have the vocabulary to name this feelin’ but she knows it ain’t good. It ain’t nice and it ain’t warm. Do they got any words for that?

She can’t stop thinkin’ bout what Shae said to Waverly there at the end. She’s about to nudge her awake when she hears a sleepy voice grumble. “Go to sleep.”

Nic instead sits up quickly, jostling the bed and pulling Waverly from her dream land. “Do ya know what you’re doing?”

Waverly sighs, she can feel Nic's eyes on her. She knows exactly what Nic’s referring to. She thinks wryly that she should be glad the Deputy finally wants to talk. But instead she’s just miffed. No, she's darn right peeved. She's tired and sad and she can't believe Nic's asking her this stupid question. Do I know what I'm doing?

Her eyes open and flash with anger. 

Nic doesn't notice and just keeps on rambling. “You know, I was thinkin’ I have Shae to thank for you. She set me on the path to you all those years ago. I’d do it over a thousand times.”

Waverly can’t believe how romantic Nic can be at the most inconvenient times. And maybe if things were different, she’d swoon. Usually she does. But right now, she doesn’t feel like it.

“It’s just you didn’t answer her,” Nic says, turning back to her original question. Do ya know what you're doing, little girl?

She looks at Waverly, open-faced and loving.

Dumb cowboy.

Waverly sits up so quick she gives herself a head rush. She turns her pent-up ire on the Deputy and finally explodes. “Of course I know what I’m doing! Do you?”

It’s a challenge, it’s fire, it’s loud, deafening even, against the quiet of the night. Nic recoils as if hit but Waverly doesn’t stop. “I’m watching you march towards your death. Heck, I’m walking right beside you. I can’t stop myself. Don’t you know?"

But again, she doesn't let Nic answer, just continues on. "You’re taking me with you, you know? You’re holding my heart in your hands and your taking it with you to Hell.”

Nic’s knocked breathless. No, no. That ain't what’s happening.

The Deputy stutters. “Well take it back. I ain’t wan’ it with me.”

“Well too darn bad. It’s done,” Waverly states coldly. Just like that the fire extinguishes. All anger is replaced with resignation.

Nic shakes her head and whispers harshly. “Well undo it. I’ll kick ya out if I have to.”

And Waverly just looks at her and laughs. It’s an ugly sound and Nic flinches.

For a moment Waverly imagines her cowboy isolating herself, alone with her tomatoes until the inevitable happens. And for what? It wouldn’t change a darn thing. Waverly doesn’t remember when she passed the point of no return, but it’s so far behind her, she can’t even see it.

“It’s far too late for that and you know it,” she sighs.

Nic does know it. Knows she couldn't stop loving Waverly if she tried.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Nic repeats, spiraling. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m-”

Waverly sighs. This whole thing is unfair. And she’s being unfair. Life has never been easy for Waverly Earp, it was just pretend. Well she’s long finished pretending.

Nic tries to pull away but Waverly doesn't let her. She pulls on the straps of her tank top and leans their foreheads together. Nic closes her eyes. 

“Don’t be sorry, baby. Ain’t no-one gon' love me like you,” Waverly whispers, her warm breath tickling against Nic lips.

Nic disagrees, eyes still closed. “Sure they will. You’re easy to love, baby. Came to me like breathin’.”

And there it is again. Another perfect sentence. Waverly wonders how she can be so lucky and so doomed at the same time.

“I won’t accept it.” Waverly is stubborn. This is it. Nic is it.

Nic shakes her head, jostling them both softly. “You have to. Make sure they’re handsome and treat ya right.”

They sit like that for a long time, sharing breath, finding calm. Waverly breaks the silence. “I'd do it over too, Nic."

Nic opens her eyes then. "You would?" she whispers.

Waverly nods against her lover. She sniffles. "Please don’t leave me.”

Nic wants to pull her close and make a vow - I’ll never leave you. I’ll be with you always - but she can’t. It hurts. Everything hurts.

“Stop sitting around like a pig waiting for slaughter. Do something, Nic,” Waverly implores. "Please."

And in the dark, Nic doesn't want to make promises she can't keep. But this isn't a promise to stay. It's simply a promise to try. 

“Ok,” she whispers.

Chapter Text

Nic never really had anything to fight for before. Always thought it was a waste of time, like arguing with a drunk or tryin’ to outdrink an Earp. But Waverly was the opposite of a waste of time. She was worth every second. So Nic was gonna fight.

First, she decided to take proper stock of her situation. Thought a list might help. Sitting at her desk at the station, she lifts a pen to write.

1. She’s a demon cursed to Hell.

Now that’s a biggun. She almost stopped the list right there and walked to the bar.

2. Her girlfriend’s sister is cursed to kill all demons in the Ghost River Triangle.

She ain’t really had many friends in her long life. Just her luck that one of her first since she started living again was predestined to kill her.

3. She loved Waverly Earp.

She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face when she wrote down that particular point. Now she wanted to give her darlin’ a call, hear her voice, see how her day was going, maybe ask if she needed her to stop at the store on the way home.

No! Focus!

4. Her death is necessary to break the curse.

Wynonna was damn close to breakin’ the curse. The closest an Earp Heir’s ever been. And Alice was waiting for her at the end of it all. Hard to feel sore about that. Alice deserved her mama without this damn burden. And the Earp girls deserved some peace.

Ok, so far this list ain’t really helping any.

Nic sighs. It just ain’t lookin’ too good for her. Used to be she laughed at Bobo for all his scheming. Now she’s starting to understand it. He had somethin’ to live for. Even if it was a bitch who treated her darlin’ like dirt.

For a life with his girl, Bobo was gonna open the gates of Hell and set all manner of evil loose on Purgatory and the Ghost River Triangle.

5. Don't be like Bobo.

Nic ain’t got much soul left, she ain’t about to feed the scraps to the dogs. Even for a little more precious time with her angel.

Well now. Nic puts her pen down. Maybe a different approach was needed. Although her handwriting is looking pretty good if she does say so herself.

She decides to approach her situation like a deputy.

Here’s the facts: she’s a Revenant, Wynonna’s a cursed gunslinger, Doc’s got some magic ring that makes him immortal and Dolls? Well he’s some kinda dragon fella or something. She ain’t nailed that one down yet.

And Waverly’s the best of ‘em; smart, good and handy with a shotgun. Nic blushes just thinkin’ about her girl with a pump-action.

No! Focus!

Nic thinks back to the group. They’re the queerest lot she’s ever run with. Nic ain’t gonna figure this out alone.

Nic looks at her empty coffee mug and decides to solve the one problem she can. She stands, stretches, and heads to the station break-room.

Michelle is drinking alone at Pussy Willows. There was too much of a chance she’d see one of her girls at Shorty’s so she avoided it most nights. And well, there weren’t much other options in this town for wetting your whistle.

Sure was a surprise when she saw a faded poster of her middle child on the back of the toilet door, promoting a mechanical bull that had been out of order for years. Even when Wynonna was a toddler, she was a spitfire; all unruly hair and backtalk and funnier than any kid had a right to be. Might’ve seemed weird but Michelle seriously thought about stealing the poster before settling for taking a pic on her phone instead. When she left all those years ago she took nothin’ but the clothes on her back and the little money Ward had in his wallet. She left the stash under their mattress, seeing as he’d have the girls to look after. She weren't to know he'd piss it away at bars but she might've seen it coming.

She taps her glass on the bartop and the bartender comes by to refill. She’s drinking slowly. It’s just one of em nights.

“Miss Gibson.” Nic approaches, thumbs looped into her belt.

“What are you doing here?” the Earp matriarch asks.

Nic rests on her haunches, undeterred by her curt tone. “Had some high school boys in here tryin’ out their fake IDs.” Nic pulls them out of her pocket and waves ‘em around with a smirk. She’ll be addin’ ‘em to her collection. Gives her a little kick.

Michelle smiles at the story. Underage drinking is a Purgatory tradition.

“Don’t suppose I could buy ya a drink if you’re on duty.”

“One couldn’t hurt,” Nic shrugs. She ain’t never been a stickler for the rules.

Michelle smiles and Nic takes a seat.

“Waverly was the sweetest little thing, always clinging to my leg,” Michelle says wistfully. “Is it silly that I thought she’d be like that when I came back?”

“It ain’t silly,” Nic offers kindly. “Ain’t too bright but it ain’t silly.”

Michelle scoffs at that, though she’s not one to take it personal. She can admit she ain’t been too bright in her life. Men like Ward are plain for the world to see. She got exactly what she married; a hard-drinking small-town Sheriff who was free n’ easy with his fists. Weren’t too bad in the beginning but it weren’t ever perfect. At its best it was barely even good.

“A nice thought maybe is what I’d call it,” Nic continues. It’s generous.

“A nice thought,” Michelle repeats. A nice thought carried her all the way home but now she’s on her girls’ doorstep, she realizes she may as well be empty-handed.

“How do I-?” How do I try?

Nic shrugs. “You just gotta.”

Michelle scoffs once more. “That simple, huh?” she says sarcastically.

Nic nods. She ain’t never claimed to have all the answers. Ain’t even claimed to have half. But sometimes it really is that simple.

The Deputy swallows her last mouthful of beer and stands. “Thanks for the drink, ma’am.”

Michelle nods, her shoulders still slumped.

“Great Chili Cook Off is this weekend,” Nic says.

Michelle laughs. “They still doin’ that?”

Nic nods with a smile. “Waverly’s competing. First ever vegan option.”

“Vegan? So what’s in her chili? Chicken?”

Nic’s laughter trails behind her as she leaves Michelle with a little bit of hope sitting on her soul.

Waverly can’t sleep. She’s too nervous. “Babe?” she whispers.

Nic ignores her. Look, she ain’t claim to be an angel and well, she kinda hoped her girl would quit her tossin’ and just fall asleep.

“Nic?” Waverly tries a few minutes later. “Are you awake?”

Goddammit.

“Nope,” says the Deputy.

Waverly huffs and turns her body as if maybe her left side will finally unlock the key to comfort.

It doesn’t.

“Babe?”

Nic sighs even as she turns toward her love. “I’ve slept in barns more peaceful.”

“Well, get on then,” Waverly retorts, lapsing into a southern lilt.

Nic ain’t got no barn on her property, and it’s a lucky thing too, cos she knows she would’ve been banished to it if that were the case.

She gets the feelin’ Waverly’s anger alone could raise a barn outta the ground. Summoned into being with a few choice words. Nic wouldn’t count out the possibility.

The Deputy smiles in the dark. “You’re sounding like me, ya know?”

Waverly’s anger evaporates. “I didn’t even do that one on purpose.”

Nic gasps theatrically. “I knew you were mocking me those other times, Miss Earp.” She reaches her fingers under Waverly’s sleep shirt and pinches her hip in reprimand.

Waverly squirms as she tries to remain cool. “Mocking? No. Flirting? Oh, definitely.”

Nic hums. “Knew that too.”

“You liked it.” Waverly’s eyes twinkle.

Nic nods. “Best part of my day.”

“Even then?” she asks. Even when I was confused? Even when I was running hot and cold?

Nic nods vehemently. Waverly could've been using her as a piñata and she would've called it holy.

Waverly sighs. “I know you’re distracting me.”

“And what about it?” Nic freely admits.

Waverly laughs.

“You know I don’t understand this chili business, but you could be shootin’ fish in a barrel and I’d be right there beside ya, wavin’ a sign.”

Waverly smirks. “And what would the sign say?”

Nic huffs. That ain’t the point. “Doesn’t matter. I’m yours, that’s what.”

And Waverly knows that she’s not talking about the literal wording. She’s talking about showing up. About loving her in the open for everyone to see. About being Waverly’s.

Nic is hers . She don't need a sign. Might as well have it written on her forehead. The whole of Purgatory knows it. More importantly, Waverly knows it.

Waverly finally falls asleep in Nic’s arms, her head on her shoulder, excited for what the next day will bring.

Nic’s wearing an apron. She didn’t blink an eye. Waverly thought she might put up a fight but she put it on as easy as she does her Stetson. Wynonna laughed when she saw her.

“Team Waverly”

Bobo'd turn in his grave.

The cookoff is underway.

Waverly is the clear underdog. It's a truth universally acknowledged that one of the most important ingredients of chili is meat. Waverly argued that it'd be called “carne” if that were the case. Nic nodded. Of course. Sure. In these moments she knew exactly what to say.

“You’re absolutely right, babe.”

Tomatoes, Waverly maintained, were the most important ingredient in chili. And she had access to the best tomatoes in Purgatory. Nic had given these particular tomatoes a good talkin’ to as she was pickin’ em, told ‘em all about their noble adventure. She’s quite sure they’re her best lot yet.

But even with the highest quality tomatoes, vegan chili is a hard sell in Purgatory. Hell, Nic ain’t ever heard the word ‘vegan’ til she met Waverly and she was a vegetarian her whole life. Well, she ain’t know there was a name for it at the time, just thought she preferred not to be eatin’ meat so she didn't. She kept her hair short and made eyes at pretty girls, so it was hardly the strangest thing about her. So learning the word 'vegetarian' did about the same for her as learning the word ‘lesbian'. It ain’t change her life one bit.

Nic spots Michelle watchin’ from afar, looking uncharacteristically shy. She waves her over.

Michelle clears her throat. Waverly is toiling away but it’s clear she’s noticed her mother’s arrival.

“So I googled this vegan business,” Michelle starts.

Waverly stills her knife just a moment before continuing to cut fresh basil.

“Not sure I met a vegan before. Had a few in the asylum, but I reckon that was on the account of all the meat there was grey and the place wouldn’t fork out for real dairy products when the fake stuff was half the price.”

Michelle had spent a good chunk of time at the mental hospital on the edge of the Ghost River Triangle. It had hurt to realize she’d been so close all those years. But once she got her head on straight, she didn’t return home. She travelled. Went all the places she’d dreamed of going with Ward on those rare times he was sober and being sweet.

“Does it still count if it ain’t on purpose?” Michelle wonders aloud.

Nic thinks about it. She don’t see why not.

It’s one of those questions that Waverly answers based on her mood. If she was pissed at her mom, she’d say, “No. It don’t count. You don’t get points for accidentally stumbling into a good thing.”

If she was feeling magnanimous, she’d simply nod and let it go.

But it’s Chili Cook Off day. One of the biggest days on Purgatory’s calendar. And Nic looks sexy in her apron. So Waverly dips her spoon into the pot and raises it to her mother's mouth. It’s a peace offering. Michelle smiles timidly and tries it.

Shock overtakes her features. “It’s nice, Waves.”

They share a smile.

“Would be nice with ground beef, I reckon,” she adds.

And Waverly laughs. 

Waverly doesn’t win. Doesn’t even place. Nic objects and Wynonna and Doc join her but Nedley kindly reminds them all that this ain’t a courtroom. Nic huffs and cools down with a chaste kiss on the cheek from Waverly. Later, Wynonna not so discreetly lines up at the winner's table and grabs herself a large bowl. She makes sure to frown the whole time she eats, even as she licks the bowl clean. It’s no mean feat.

Nevertheless, Waverly is in her element. Two tweens come up to her and tell her about the Vegan club they started at school. She packs some chili into tupperware for them to take home. Mrs Cluskie tells her it ain’t nearly as bad as she thought it’d be which Waverly gracefully chooses to take as a compliment, and June from the diner asks for the recipe as she’s thinking about adding vegan options to her menu.

It’s a resounding win and Waverly’s elated. And at the end of it, Michelle ain’t too proud to ask if Waverly has a spare apron.

Nic is always astounded by good days. And they ain’t get much better than this.

Days pass as they have been. It’s easy living. Wynonna is getting closer to the end so Nic decides it’s time to have a chat. “Hey Earp, we’re going for a ride.”

Wynonna jumps into Nic’s cruiser. “Whoa, it’s so roomy up front.” She wiggles her legs in the footwell.

Nic chuckles. “I can chuck ya in the back if ya want, for old time’s sake.”

“No way,” she says before turning on the radio. An old country tune plays. “Jesus, Haught stuff. If there was ever any doubt you were a cowboy…”

Nic frowns. “I like this song.”

Wynonna laughs. They continue on in companionable silence, Wynonna humming to the radio, Nic driving the speed limit.

Nic finally pulls over. They’re at the edge of town. Wynonna realizes she never thought to ask what they were doing or where they were going.

Nic turns down the music and clears her throat. Wynonna feels the air change.

“Look, I know it’s near,” Nic starts.

Wynonna doesn’t wanna hear this. She squirms in her seat but Nic is quicker. She locks the door just as the girl thinks to tug on the handle.

"Let me outta this cruiser, Nicole."

Nic shakes her head.

Wynonna stares forward, petulantly avoiding Nic's eye.

“Wynonna, I’m asking you don’t tell Waverly when it comes. Ain’t need to be a big thing.”

Wynonna scoffs. Nic sounds like she’s talking about trying to avoid getting sung “Happy Birthday” at Shorty’s, not her own god damn death.

“She’s gonna be pissed.”

Nic smiles, imagining her girl, her fighter, with a deadly scowl. “Sure will.”

Wynonna doesn’t talk for a long time. Looks out at the edge of town and remembers when she would drink beer in the trays of other daddy’s trucks, acting about 10 years older than she was, tryin to forget a curse that had already taken so much from her; her mama, her daddy, Willa. She thinks about how fucked up it is that this curse is still taking from her, even now.

She sighs. “Well Nic, it ain’t today.”

Nic nods. True enough. “Soon though. You ready yourself. Please.”

Wynonna nods.

Chapter Text

Nic weren’t givin’ up. Well at least she ain’t wanna call it that. Don’t sound very cool. She’s taken to callin’ it acceptin’ her fate. Has a more noble ring to it.

And anyway, she’s seen what wishin’ gets ya. Doc was so afraid of dying, he got a magic ring and a century alone in the dark. Dolls was so afraid of dying, he was injecting himself with poison everyday. 

Nic just ain’t have that in her. Course she wants to live but not if it means all ‘at fuss. No, better to just get it over with.

She remembers the dying sheep on her daddy’s farm. It was whimpering something sorry, had been all night after a coyote came upon it. Was a mercy when she brought the block down on its head.

Now she ain’t callin’ herself a dying sheep. But she knows she ain’t tryna cling to life like that. Just give her the block and let it be done.

She’s at Shorty’s now, nursin’ these thoughts and a glass of whiskey when a sad-lookin' Charlie sidles up.

He’s been a bit of a surprise. She ain’t think he was Wynonna’s type. Too blond, too clean shaven, too sober. But Nic’s noticed the girl’s been in the drunk tank a little less, so at least that’s somethin’.

He shuffles in place before settling into the stool next to her. “Hey there, Deputy Haught,” he greets quietly.

She’s crossed paths with the firefighters a few times in her role as Deputy but as a rule she keeps well clear. Bobo was always harpin' on about. You better hope you ain’t caught anywhere near that fire station. You let 'em firefighters alone. So she’s given the place a wide berth ever since. She ain't ask why, always understood it to be one of those demon rules like stayin' away from the Homestead or stayin' on the right side of the border.

And besides, what would she be wantin' to do with people who volunteer to run into hellfire everyday. Sounds a bit too much like temptin’ fate.

So she tips her hat to the boy when he takes his seat and keeps on with her broodin’. She’s barely touched her drink and it’s already tastin’ like she misses her girl. She's thinkin' bout heading home when the firefighter sighs forlornly next to her.

Christ.

But she ain’t on the clock and this ain’t an interrogation. He can speak if and when he’s ready.

She waves over the bartender and buys the firefighter a drink. She ain’t that cruel.

He takes a sip of his whiskey, and grimaces in a way that’s far too endearing. Nic smiles despite herself.

“Deputy, can I ask you a question?” he asks once he’s recovered.

She hums in the affirmative.

“Bout Wynonna?” he adds.

“Go on, boy.” She ain’t got all night.

“She spook easily?” he asks. “I asked her to stay, after-” He blushes and Nic wonders how the boy’s survived this long with Wynonna when he can’t even finish his sentence.

“Let me guess, she ran outta there faster n’ a bat outta hell.”

He nods. She feels sorry for the boy. He ain’t know the half of it. 

“She’s so-” He gets a far away look in his eye and trails off, unable to complete his thought. It’s elusive, like the girl herself.

Nic nods. “That she is.”

The Deputy ain’t claim to know the ways of Wynonna Earp. She’s a complicated girl pretendin’ to be simple. But she does know that Charlie don’t stand a snowball’s chance in Hell with her. Her heart belongs to Doc.

Nic finishes her drink and buys the poor boy something lighter; a beer. He accepts it gratefully.

“John Henry Holliday,” Nic calls out as she crests the hill, huffin’ and puffin’.

He’s sitting under a tree, smoking his cigarillo and not expecting company.

“Why hello there, Deputy Haught,” he says with a tip of his hat. “How goes that darlin’ of yours?”

“You ain’t slick, Holliday, you’ll not distract me by askin’ about Waverly,” the Deputy gruffs.

She wipes an arm across her forehead. She’s hot ‘n bothered but finds herself cooling quick in the shade of the tree.

He shrugs. “Well you cannot blame a man for tryin’.”

Nic truly has to wonder how far this man would’ve got if he didn’t have his looks. She gets the feelin’ he would’ve burned through the peoples’ goodwill a whole lot quicker.

She whacks the man up the head. His hat falls in his lap.

“Ow!” Doc rubs the smarting spot vigorously. “Now, pray tell, what was that for?” he says with a pained look.

“You bein’ an idiot,” she sums up nicely.

She sighs and takes a seat next to him, awkwardly adjusting her gun belt until she’s comfortable. “100 some-odd years in a well and you ain’t think about gettin’ some sense?”

Doc frowns. “Apologies, but it was not my major concern.”

Truth is, he ain’t like to think about the darkness. How it crushed him on all sides. How it whispered to him every wrong he ever did. How blocking his ears and singing the songs his mama used to didn’t help one bit.

Instead, he comes up here, where it isn't damp and cloying, and sits under the open sky. Feels the earth, the sun, the breeze.

“So you know I’m a Revenant,” Nic starts.

“Yes,” Doc nods. “Who could forget the great Red Haught?” he says with a flourish.

“Oh hush, I know Wynonna told you,” Nic grouses. “You know you’re still the person she tells things to. Even now,” she says with a surprising gentleness.

Nic really is rooting for those two idiots. Doc and Wynonna ain’t know how to be around each other after Alice. Nic was gettin’ tired of ‘em breaking their own hearts.

Doc huffs and looks away. “She’s going with a blond fella at the minute. Handsome boy, looks like he stepped outta a picture.”

Calendar would be more accurate but Nic ain’t say it. She don’t wanna depress the man.

“Yes. And you had that chemist,” Nic reminds him.

Doc frowns. Rosita wasn’t serious. Rosita ain’t stupid enough to try and get serious with Doc Holliday.

Only Wynonna’s that dumb.

Nic continues. “Look, I ain’t pointin’ fingers. You’re as bad as each other. As good as each other too. Figure it out.”

Doc takes a long drag. Through the lingering smoke, he looks out at the rolling plains that stretch before them. The last of the snow has melted, making way for spring. Over a century gone by and it ain’t really changed that much at all. He supposes it’s a good thing. He went looking for the town he grew up in once and what he found was unrecognizable; all concrete and neon signs.

“Wyatt and I used to camp out up here.” He toys with the ring on his finger, remembering days spent drinking beer and then shooting the bottles. “He wasn’t half the shot I was,” he chuckles. “I wasn’t half the man he was,” he trails off.

And is that his lot in this long life? A gun in the hands of a better man? A better woman?

Nic shakes her head, pulling her eyes away from the view. “I don’t know why you’re so hell bent on tryna convince the world you ain’t a good man, John Henry. You ain’t foolin’ no-one.”

She spots a lonely deciduous tree in the distance. She imagines it in-bloom come the end of Spring, bets it’s beautiful in the Summer sun. “This land ain’t easy. It’ll make ya work for it. Most of the time it seems easier not to try.”

She thinks about her first few seasons here, when her tomatoes weren’t taking and the only things that seemed to flourish were pokeweed and clover.

She looks to Doc and eyes the ring on his finger then, thinks about how he ain’t really tried working at something before. Got himself a ring instead.

Doc catches her looking and his brow furrows. He instinctively pulls his hand to his chest.

Nic is quick to chase away his fear. “I ain’t come to you about that. Won’t lie and say I ain’t think about snatchin’ it. But my issue ain’t needing to live. It’s breaking this curse without having to die. Do you understand me?”

Doc nods slowly.

“This curse is gonna break one day, Holliday,” she says seriously and she hopes he’s listening. 

The words hang in the air between ‘em, right alongside the tobacco smoke and all the other things that don’t need to be said out loud.

Alice will come back. Wynonna will put down Peacemaker. And where will you be when that happens?

But she already hit him over the head once, she ain’t need to do it again. And she can see it all turnin’ over behind his eyes anyway.

“You got another one of those?” she asks as he takes another drag.

“You gon hit me again?” he grumbles.

Nic shakes her head.

“Alright then.”

Now, she ain’t mean to start a goodbye tour but that same week she finds herself standin’ in the door of Dolls’ office.

“Deputy Haught.” He doesn’t look up to the sound of the Deputy’s arrival but he must recognize the clip of her gait.

“Sergeant Dolls,” she greets.

“I wasn’t aware we had a meeting,” he says tersely. He still hasn’t looked up from his report.

Nic smiles and wonders how a self-serious man like this got saddled with the job of Wynonna Earp’s partner. Seems like some kinda cosmic retribution. She wonders wryly if he robbed banks in a former life. Or maybe he just pissed someone off as a cadet. That don’t seem too unbelievable to her. He’s pissed her off plenty. Mostly due to him havin’ a giant stick up his ass.

But now she gets it. His job is dangerous. And it’s less dangerous if he takes it seriously.

Don’t mean she’s gon let him off the hook. “My god, man, you ain’t foolin’ me with that bullshit. I know you’re a softy.”

Before he can disagree, she continues on. “Wanna know how I know? Cos I’m still alive.”

Right. Now he looks up, she thinks wryly.

“You could’ve ordered Wynonna to shoot me dead soon as you found out I was a Revenant but ya didn’t. So quit your play actin’.”

Dolls huffs. “Like she would listen to me anyway.”

Nic smiles. It’s true enough. The girl was born with no ears and she had a reckless streak that probably kept the Deputy Marshal up at night.

“How’d you know I know?” Dolls asks.

“Cos you ain’t an idiot.” She wouldn’t be surprised if he’s known the whole damn time.

“Thanks,” Dolls says sarcastically.

“Ain’t a thing.”

She looks at this stalwart Deputy Marshal and figures he’d appreciate her gettin’ to the point. 

“This curse is nearing its end,” she says seriously.

Dolls nods. The team has found a good rhythm. With Waverly’s knowledge of history, Doll’s skill at strategy (idiot wrangling), and Wynonna’s magic trigger finger, they’ve been able to locate and dispatch Revenants with surprising ease.

“Don’t suppose you have a magical dragon trick that can save my skin?”

“Magical dragon trick? Wait, do you think I’m a dragon?”

“I ain’t mean no offense by it,” she hurries to say.

Dolls laughs and Nic relaxes. It’s a good look on him.

“Trust me, I’ve looked for ways to fast track the end of this curse. If there was one, I couldn’t find it with all of Black Badge’s resources,” he says seriously.

And Nic does trust him. If there was anyone who would want to rescue Wynonna from her family’s burden, it’s Dolls. He’s a white hat if ever she saw one.

“Worth a try,” she says with a shrug. “Now, you let someone in one day.”

Doll’s furrows his brow. Should be telling to her that he responds honestly.

“Thought I was ready,” he admits. Thought it’d be Wynonna.

Nic nods, reading between the lines. Of course men fall in love with Wynonna. She’s a whirlwind, a hurricane. Nic knows cos she got sucked right in too.

Layin’ her life down for the Earps. It’s the easiest decision she’s ever made.

She pushes off the door frame. “Next time go for a girl who ain’t got so much baggage,” Nic advises.

She leaves and Dolls’ laughter trails behind her.

A few nights later, she finds herself in Nedley’s office. He had removed the door a month ago cos he was suddenly all about “transparent and open communication”. Chrissy had recommended some managerial podcast to him and he was takin’ it very seriously.

"Just cos I'm of a certain age, don't mean I need to be an ol' fuddy duddy," he said.

Didn’t bother Nic, but she did point out that Lonnie might take it to mean he can pop-in at all hours and ask any ol’ thing. The Sheriff had told her that that was kinda the whole point. And when he said there was no such thing as a stupid question, Nic had cringed. That's not somethin’ you wanna put out into the universe when your coworker is Lonnie.

And sure enough, poor Nedley was tested in those first few weeks. But the Sheriff stuck to his guns and he ain’t put the door back. Nic did notice however that he spent less time in his office when Lonnie was on shift.

“Hey Sheriff, I’ve been meaning to talk to ya about something,” Nic starts.

He’s writing reports by lamplight. “What’s that?”

“Well I’m thinkin’ we need another deputy, what with all these supernatural goings on.”

The Sheriff’s head snaps up quickly. Nic can see him repressing his urge to holler, sees his eyes flash with somethin’ close to hard-earned satisfaction. Freedom, maybe.

“Probably ain’t a bad idea,” he says, keepin’ his cool.

“Well then, I’ll keep an eye out for candidates, sir,” she says.

She leaves with a tip of her hat, already sure of who she has in mind.

The Sheriff smiles to himself. Sometimes open door policies are worth it.

Nic thought about having a good old-fashioned chat with Wynonna. Seemed to go ok with the boys. But she knows her, knows she’d bolt before she got a word in.

So Nic tries another approach. She invites her for a drink.

“Let’s go Earp. Pussy Willows. First round’s on me.”

“First two rounds.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

That was hours ago. Nic and Wynonna have already moved on from beer to whiskey. Nic ain’t sure when but she steam-rolled right over tipsy and went straight to drunk. 

Wynonna’s got Nic’s hat on her head and the Deputy is wearing her signature leather jacket. It’s uncomfortably tight. She looks trapped.

“Careful, Haught Stuff! That’s my favorite jacket,” Wynonna slurs as the hat slips down to cover her eyes.

Nic huffs and shakes the thing off. “Too damn tight anyway.”

“We could try the pants next,” Wynonna says suggestively. Nic just laughs.

“Best you keep ‘em. You’re the one with the top-shelf ass.”

Wynonna is shocked, not expecting that from the cowboy. They both erupt in laughter.

Michelle arrives to the shock of seeing her corner of the bar occupied by two cackling drunks. Now she’s on babysitting duty, not that the pair recognize it.

“Mama!” Wynonna yells before flinging an arm around her. Nic cringes beside her and rubs her ear.

Wynonna ain't have the same resentments Waverly did. Might be cos she was older when she left. Might be cos she knows all about the itchin' need to run.

“Hey, baby. Deputy,” Michelle says.

Nic gives Michelle a nod and a smile. And then a hiccup. And then a frown. She might be drunk.

Michelle takes a seat and Wynonna waves down the bartender eagerly. “Three shots of your finest Whiskey!”

“That’ll be $120”

“Three shots of your pisswater Whiskey!” Wynonna corrects.

The bartender grumbles and continues to pour the same thing he’s been steadily pouring them all night.

“What are we drinking to?” Michelle asks.

“Haught Stuff here is going away!” Wynonna says cheerfully.

“Sure am!” Nic says, matching the energy. Then she giggles of all things.

“She’s going on a tropical getaway,” the Heir adds.

“Gonna get a nice tan,” Nic says and the two women almost fall off their stools laughing.

Michelle doesn’t get the joke. Nic don't seem like the type to leave. She takes the shot and leaves it there, happy to keep an eye on 'em and sip water.

But the girls drink and talk and drink and talk and eventually Michelle can’t understand their incoherent nattering.

They take her up on her offer to drive ‘em home easily enough, but Wynonna tells her they can’t go to the Homestead.

Nic perks up from her spot leaning on Wynonna’s shoulder. “No Homestead, please. I like my skin.”

Michelle lets Wynonna lead the way and that’s how Nic and Wynonna end up curled on the cot in the drunk tank, snoring in tandem.

The next morning, Waverly snaps a picture of her two favorite people and saves it as her lock screen wallpaper.

So Nic thought she couldn’t do this alone. And she was right. She needed ‘em all in the end.

God dammit, it does sound an awful lot like givin’ up. But she swears it ain’t. She’s walkin’ off alone into the sunset. She’s the hero of this story, dammit.

And well, now she’s made her peace.

Waverly is snoring softly. Early morning sunlight streams through a slit in the curtain and lights her face just so.

A slice of heaven, Nic thinks.

It’s more ‘n the Deputy could’ve ever expected. It’s more ‘n she deserved.

So in spite of it all, it’s gratitude that she feels on this Summer’s morning. It settles on her chest and helps square her shoulders.

She watches the sun move across the plains of Waverly's face until she’s left in shadow once more.

But it ain’t a shame. Waverly’s no less beautiful.

And the sun will rise tomorrow.

Nic slips out of bed, leaving her love with a tender, lingering kiss on her temple.

Waverly stands before the church doors. She feels silly, hesitating at the threshold. It’s not that big of a deal. She’s been here a thousand times before.

She had seen Juan Carlo about town and his seemingly offhand comment had really stuck in her craw. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.

The Earps weren’t exactly regular church goers but once she was under Gus’s care, she went more regularly. Gus used to say when you’re born in a place like Purgatory you can’t afford to piss off God any further.

So Waverly went to church, listened to the sermons and held her tongue when something didn’t sound quite right.

But eventually, juggling online coursework and a bartending gig that had her working to the small hours of Sunday morning became too much and so she stopped going altogether. It was a good enough excuse that let her step back without disappointing Gus, so she took it and didn’t look back.

By the time Nic came around, she had already lapsed into a CEO (Christmas and Easter only) Christian and even then she never really liked that word for herself: Christian. Truthfully, she was most comfortable with religions when she was studying them at the local library.

And well, then the whole loving a woman who happened to be a demon (or a demon who happened to be a woman, she’s not sure which order put her on a better foot with God and the congregation), just kind of seemed to make the decision for her. Church became a place she used to go, kind of like high school and cheerleading practice. And she didn't miss it. Like high school, it was just another place where she never felt truly herself and never quite belonged.

But when Juan Carlo had parted with We’d love to see you again, Waverly hadn’t been able to shake off a strange feeling.

So now she finds herself at church on a Tuesday. Well, outside church.

She takes a deep breath to steady herself before finally stepping through the doors. She isn’t struck down. She thinks she feels something, a change in the air maybe, but she quickly chastises herself for being dramatic.

“Waverly Earp, it sure is good to see you back,” Juan Carlo greets.

Waverly smiles. The place is empty, just like the parking lot, and she’s grateful for the privacy.

The walk down the aisle is long and her footsteps echo uncomfortably but she makes it to the altar without incident and quietly lights a candle. She’s not sure why, it’s just a force of habit. 

She takes a seat in the pew and waits. For what, she’s not sure.

She had always had a lot to pray for each Sunday when she was a girl. Willa, daddy; dead. Mama, Wynonna; gone. And for years after that night at the Homestead, she would have people coming up to her after each Sunday service and telling her she was in their prayers. She must've been the most prayed on girl in all of Purgatory. It didn't make a lick of difference. God never answered. Willa and Daddy stayed dead. Mama and Wynonna stayed gone.

But a lot’s changed since she was the knobby-kneed kid who couldn’t bear to look at the statue of Jesus strung up on the cross.

A lot and not much at all.

She thinks of Nic, as she usually does when her mind’s left to wander.

Nic isn’t an answer to her long-ago prayers. Nic is just Nic. But she feels the urge to thank God for her often, so she decides to take the opportunity to do so now. Formally.

She says a quiet prayer for her cowboy and her soul.

Later, Juan Carlo takes a seat next to her. Probably a bit close for her liking.

“Father?” Waverly asks.

“I’m glad you came, Waverly.”

She smiles. Coming to church wasn’t on her list of things to do today. But when she woke up this morning, she felt… compelled.

She looks up brightly but Juan Carlo’s face falls. 

“Is everything ok, Father?”

“You have trials ahead and trials behind,” he says seriously.

“Uh-”

He continues. “I can show you the answers you seek, but you must go willingly.”

Waverly is confused but she looks into Juan Carlo’s kind eyes and feels oddly safe.

She nods. A cloud passes in front of the sun and suddenly they’re cast in darkness. The candle she had lit flickers out.

“What the heck?”

Juan Carlo snaps his fingers and Waverly slumps in the pew, overcome by sleep.

Chapter Text

How did I get here?

The thought faintly tugs at the back of Waverly’s mind as she walks into Shorty’s. She tries to shake off the strange feeling but it persists.

She relaxes when she sees a familiar scene; Wynonna at the pool table, lining up her cue. Her back is to the door, and Waverly realizes it’s a little silly that she is finding comfort in the sight of her sister’s tush in her signature too-tight leather pants.

She watches Wynonna pull back and shoot, then hears the crack of pool balls bouncing off each other followed by an unladylike hoot.

Even though she can’t see her sister’s face, she can imagine the shit-eating grin she wears as she gleefully takes her opponent’s money.

It makes her smile.

Waverly approaches, shouting her name. “‘Nonna!”

The brunette turns from the table and-

“Oh, crud.”

It’s not her. It’s-

Holy fudge nuggets.

It’s her mother. And she’s looking straight at her. “Name’s Michelle.”

Waverly squeaks. “Mama?!”

She looks so young, maybe in her late 20s, early 30s. But unmistakably Michelle.

Waverly is staring rudely when, from behind, a man steps through her. Like passes right through her as if she was a ghost.

Uh?

“Julian,” ghost-man says to Michelle with a smile and his hand extended.

Wait, what?

After waving her arms around and hollering right up in a few faces, Waverly realized that she was the ghost in this story, not Julian. This epiphany didn’t really help towards her latent feelings of being unseen. But she figured it was poor form (insert corporeal joke here) to dawdle in dream land so she stuffed that hurt right down in favor of prioritizing the more pressing issue.

Which of course is finding out what the heck is going on.

And while being a ghost stuck in the past was quite the revelation, it came second to the fact that ghost-man Julian from earlier is Charlie. Yes, as in Firefighter Charlie from the present day who her sister may or may not be shtupping with semi-regularity.

And he hasn’t aged a day.

Is Charlie a Revenant? If he is, he's gotta be one of the very last ones. They're so close to the end and they have been for months. Which is another thing Waverly’s actively not thinking about. She’s stuffed that right down too. She’s very good at it.

Waverly looks around the bar properly and starts noticing all the things she hadn’t quite got around to yet.

Like how the jukebox doesn't have a big dent in it because Bill hasn't headbutted yet (it was speaking in tongues). Or how the bar top doesn't have a massive chunk missing because the great fight of ‘03 has yet to occur (Gus waved a shotgun around threateningly to break up the brawl and accidentally knocked the trigger).

Most shocking of all is seeing Uncle Curtis behind the bar, alive and well. Aunt Gus is working alongside him in a dance they had perfected over the years. Or rather they will.

Gus places a pint in front of Nedley who sits at the bar-top, only a Deputy judging by the uniform. He’s got his watchful eye on a few locals who are drunker than they should be for the hour. It seems he’s always had a beer gut.

Waverly doesn’t venture too close to that side of the bar, preferring to let that part of the dream/vision/delusion be a gift from afar. It would hurt to much to be so close to her uncle and not be able to give him a hug.

So Waverly looks back at her mother, the Queen of the Pool Table.

She had instantly sent Julian to the bar; a drink being the price to play. The man was more than happy to pay.

Julian hands over a beer. “Ready for your next challenge?” he says in a way that’s a little too flirty for Waverly’s liking.

“No, she is not ready for her next challenge,” Waverly says, even though she knows it will fall on deaf ears.

“What’s the bet?” Michelle asks Julian with a glint in her eye.

Oh, god, Waverly doesn’t want to watch this.

“20 bucks?” Michelle suggests confidently.

Charlie nods. “Ok, 20 bucks if you win. And three questions, if I win.”

“Three questions? That’s it?” Michelle says, surprised.

“That’s it. But you have to answer truthfully.”

Michelle searches his gaze for a trace of bullshit. Seemingly satisfied, she nods. “Deal.”

They shake on it and Waverly does not miss the intensity of their interaction.

Oh. Fudge nuggets.

While pool seems to be a strange mating dance amongst the not-so-subtle Earps, Julian is able to win with a quiet, gentlemanly grace. It doesn’t mean that Waverly didn’t have to turn away at times at her mother’s boldness.

Michelle, not used to losing, is thoroughly confused by the turn of events. But hey, at least she’s only down a Q&A and not actual cold hard cash.

Then Sheriff Ward Earp enters the bar, and all the air leaves the room. Waverly remembers that feeling well from her childhood. She finds herself holding her breath. It’s strange to see Peacemaker on his hip. It feels wrong.

His eyes scan the area, flickering over Waverly like they always did, before finally landing on Michelle. His wife.

Something flashes across Ward’s face when he sees another man near her. Waverly finds herself worrying about the pair, even as she knows intellectually that they're alive and well in the present day.

“Can I see you again?” Julian asks softly. Michelle wasn’t used to men that spoke like that. They were loud, demanding, sometimes they spoke with only their hands and they never, ever bothered with requests.

She only has time to nod before Ward grabs her by the wrist and pulls her out of there.

The dream moves faster after that.

Now Michelle and Julian are sitting on the bonnet of a car at the edge of town.

The sun is setting, pinks and purples strewn across the sky.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks sweetly.

Michelle nods, Julian leans in and Waverly turns away, feeling like an intruder.

Michelle is visibly pregnant, talking to Julian in the street.

“Will you leave him?” he asks. He reaches out to touch her but thinks better of it. They’re in public after all.

Michelle doesn’t know how to answer that question. She opens her mouth but the words don’t come. She’s never tried to leave Ward before. Never really thought it was an option.

“It’s ok,” Charlie says, ever soft. “You don’t have to answer.”

She wants to cry on his shoulder.

Instead she returns to her car. Through the windshield, she watches him walk away.

She whispers the answer to herself. “I will.”

Young Willa sits in the backseat, looking at her mother with distrust. “Mama, who was that?”

Michelle ignores her.

Waverly doesn’t. Waverly sees a girl too young to be so hard. She thinks about what daddy must be saying and doing to make her this way.

Wynonna is sucking her thumb and Willa pulls it out of her mouth harshly.

“Stop that, Wy,” she says. “You’re not a baby.”

Waverly comes upon Ward and Julian fighting at the border of the Ghost River Triangle. Suddenly, huge wings unfurl behind Julian’s back. They’re beautiful; a plumage of pure white feathers. They’re shockingly, breathtakingly bright. Waverly has to squint and cover her eyes.

“Whoa,” she whispers. “So totally not a Revenant.”

Ward is furious. Julian looks pained, contrite even. The Sheriff doesn’t bother with Peacemaker; he shoves the Angel in the chest.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Perhaps it’s Julian’s guilt that causes him to stumble back. The Heir should be no match for an Angel. Regardless, Julian takes one backwards step too many and then just like that he’s over the line.

In an instant, he loses his memories. Julian is left to wander alone outside the Triangle. Lost. 

And Michelle is left to wonder where he went.

In the Gibson Greenhouse, Waverly is born to a heartsore mother and a resentful dad, with one sister already cruel and the other a long way from being a hero.

Michelle calls baby Waverly “her angel”. She still leaves.

After the widows, Waverly crosses the line with newborn Alice in her arms. She’s a beacon of light and Julian is able to find his way back to Purgatory where he stumbles into a fire station.

Waverly awakens with a gasp, Juan Carlo still holding her hand. She drops it as if burnt. Juan Carlo has the decency to look apologetic.

“Charlie is Julian,” Waverly says and she instantly resents how stupid that sounds aloud.

“Julian is an angel.” Gosh, somehow that’s worse.

“Julian is my dad,” she finishes.

Great. Zero for three.

The priest nods. “We aren’t meant to interfere,” he says.

“Well, Char- Julian certainly did! A few times!” she shouts.

“I believe he truly loved your mother,” Juan Carlo offers.

She ignores that empty platitude. “Oh my god, and now he’s sleeping with Nonna,” she mutters.

Juan Carlo cringes. “He still doesn’t have his memories.”

The girl is focusing on the wrong things. “Waverly, do you see? You’re part angel. You’re born of light.”

His kind countenance implores her to understand.

Waverly snatches his hand in hers once more. His ring bites into her palm but she keeps her grip strong anyway.

“Show me the rest.”

“What? No-” He tries to retract but she holds on tight.

Later, Nic is in her garden, sleeves rolled up, a ring of sweat under her Stetson. The sun is setting as she looks about the flowerbed, satisfied. It’s pretty damn near perfect.

Waverly arrives home just as Nic is wiping her brow with the hem of her tank top.

Some might call that fortuitous timing. Waverly would call it holy.

But then Nic’s hand drops and the tank top falls back in place.

Waverly frowns. Why God, why?

She wolf whistles and the cowboy looks up to see Waverly openly staring at her. She chuckles even as she blushes under the attention.

“You just gonna stand there and look?” the Deputy teases, trying to regain the upper hand.

“Unless you have a better idea?” Waverly challenges, a glint in her eye.

Oh, Nic can think of a few.

Waverly giggles as Nic hauls her over her shoulder and carries her to bed.

Nic woke up this morning with her mind made up.

Wynonna saw it on her face, plain as day. Soon as she entered the station. Made Nic wonder what gave it away. Had kinda hoped she weren’t so easy to read. Then again, she supposed she ain’t never had a poker face. Might not have gone into bank robbin’ if swindlin’ men was an option.

She felt bad being the reason for Wynonna’s look of despair. Thought about telling her to cheer up but she weren’t wanting the bullet any sooner than she planned.

Then Nic thought that maybe that’s the way she oughta do it. Goad the girl ‘til she pulls the trigger.

But she thinks better of it. Waits til the afternoon to set in motion what Wynonna already knows is comin’. In the meantime, she gets her paperwork in order. She doesn’t bother tryin’ to leave Lonnie with any kinda wisdom. Would probably confuse the boy. No, better to leave him her mug and her loyalty card for June’s diner. She's two punches away from a free burger.

The time comes and Nic and Wynonna leave the station together. No-one asks where they’re headed, even though Wynonna wishes they would, wishes that someone would stop them. Stop this.

The car ride passes in silence. Nic doesn’t remember arriving but suddenly she’s standing in the clearing. Two feet on the ground, Wynonna ten paces away and facin’ her.

She closes her eyes and takes off her Stetson. She wants to feel the setting sun on her face. It’s been a beautiful Summer’s day. Nic knows her tomatoes would’ve enjoyed the sun. Puts a smile on her face to think about it, even as her hands tremble. 

Waves had messaged earlier today. Said she was gonna buy in tonight, couldn’t be bothered cooking. Nic thought that was a good idea. Then she thought she’d be a bit more scared bout the dying thing. Must be cos she’s done it before, she could skip the worrying.

The first time she died, she could barely think for the pain. The second time caught her by surprise and the third time she was in a fog so thick she could hardly think.

This time, she’ll die under an open sky. This time, she’ll die standin’ up.

Always liked the sound of that.

She’s already written a letter. Weren’t long, she ain’t one to dwell, but it said about all it needed to. Nic convinced herself it had to be this way for Waverly’s sake, but truth be told, it’s her who couldn’t handle a tear-filled goodbye. That, and it ain’t fair on Wynonna. No, better to get it done quick.

Waverly and Nic have said all they need to anyway; said it in the small hours in each other’s arms, in every little moment in between. She’s got no last-minute declarations. Nic’s letter ain’t cover nothing new, but she hopes it’ll give Waverly some comfort.

The sky is splashed with oranges and reds. It feels fitting. Helps her stand a little straighter.

She looks into Wynonna's eyes, hears her tryna talk her way ‘round it, sees that she ain’t got what it takes

”Don’t make me do this,” the Heir says, a look of defeat on her face. It’s funny, Nic ain’t thought Wynonna could make her face look like that.

But Wynonna Earp ain’t one to falter twice. The girl takes a bit of convincing but she gets there. Nic had to fight dirty, brought up Willa and Alice, but it works.

Wynonna raises Peacemaker shakily. It glows red before a single shot rings out across the clearing.

The Heir makes herself look; like she does every time. Always felt she owed them that much and Nic is no exception.

It’s all over in a matter of seconds. Over for the last time. The ground swallows the Deputy whole, leaving nothing but her white Stetson behind. It sits atop the grass, silent and mocking.

Wynonna falls to her knees and cries.

She looks at Peacemaker now. It’s nothing more than a haunted paperweight. She wants to fling it after Nicole. Send it back to Hell where it came from.

She looks at the ground where Nic had stood just moments before. It’s untarnished. She reaches out to the grass and tries to find something different, something changed, but it’s just as it should be. Dry, yellow and tough.

She thinks it’s unfair. Unfair that this curse that laid waste to her family, leaves no trace. The earth should be scorched; blackened and burnt. There should be something, anything. A sign. A fucking receipt even.

But all she’s got is this fucking hat.

She picks it up only to see something flutter to the ground. She sees a well-loved photograph of her little sister smiling.

The cowboy had kept a photo of her sister in her Stetson. She irrationally worries that Nic might miss the pic. That she should've taken it with her. She carefully tucks it back into the hat like it’s something precious.

She had asked Nic why she chose this place when they stepped out of the truck. The Deputy had pointed at a tree a couple hundred yards away. Said she saw it from atop a hill once and she wanted to visit it again, to see for herself if it bloomed over Spring.

Sure enough it did. It was bright and vibrant, out-of-place really in a field like this. Hell, in a town like this.

Nic had smiled and said it reminded her of Waverly. Beautiful. A survivor. A miracle.

Wynonna cries for all that she’s lost. She stays on the ground for a long time. Until the red sky turns dark.

Wynonna finally picks up the hat and makes her way back to Waverly. 

Knowing that her Alice can come home, sets off butterflies in her stomach. She wishes Nic was here to coach her through it.

Waverly is pottering around the kitchen. She might not be cooking tonight but she picked some vegetables from the garden for a nice summer salad. Life's about balance, right?

She'll make Nic eat a serving before they get into the take-out and Nic will stick out her bottom lip.

Waverly smiles thinking about that pout. Then she flushes red when she thinks about the Deputy’s lips on her jaw, on her neck, on her-

Last night was- It's always good, great even, but something had gotten into Nic and well, Waverly wasn't gonna complain.

She covers the salad and puts it aside when she hears the door open. She turns with a smile expecting her Deputy.

Time slows.

It’s the combination of Wynonna’s tear-streaked face and the Stetson in her hands that sends Waverly to the floor before a word’s been spoken.

Waverly doesn’t remember much after that.

Days pass before she even thinks about reading the stupid letter. Pisses her off that Nic thought it’d be enough. Then she opens it and reads the first line. She laughs for the first time since Nic left her.

Waverly,

Now look, I know you’re pissed.

Truth be told, I’m sorry I missed it. I think that’s when I love ya most, when you’re riled up like that. Ain’t ever seen a fire like it. You’re a force to be reckoned with, Waverly Earp. I just pray you keep it, that fire, cos they’ll need it. Wynonna needs it. Alice needs it. God, a Purgatory without it sounds awful boring to me.

You know I loved ya. Would’ve married ya if I had the time (and you were willing of course). You liked me in uniform, well you woulda loved me in a suit. Probably for the best you didn’t see it. Might’ve left ya blind.

I hope you know I tried. Truly. Asked God every night and twice on Sundays.

And ain’t life funny? Used to be I cursed Wyatt Earp, now I thank God for him. It was all worth it. All of it. I’d do it a thousand times over.

I hope ya won’t hate me. Maybe you’ll tell Alice about me?

Yours,

Nic

P.S. You go easy on ya sister. I know ya will.

Waverly cried and cursed and screamed and scared the shit out of Calamity Jane. She read the letter until she had it memorized. Read Wynonna’s too when she found out she had one. And then anyone else who got one.

But the words ran out and soon there was nothing new left.

And so Waverly cried and cursed and screamed some more.

She thinks about razing Nic’s tomatoes. Surely if something was gonna bring her back from the grave, it’d be that. But she dispels the thought as quickly as it comes. She spends time with them instead; lying next to them, telling them about how angry she is, telling them about how much she misses her stupid cowboy, apologizing that they’ve got to put up with her as a mother now.

Wynonna found her letter at the Black Badge office. She knew Waverly would likely be staying at Nic’s house but she still avoided the Homestead, just in case she returned. Wasn’t sure she’d be able to meet her eye after what she had done. It was bad enough breaking the news to her.

So she slept on the Black Badge couch. Well the first few nights were in the drunk tank, but that was no fun when Lonnie kept complaining and Nic wasn’t there to bring her coffee. So Wynonna didn’t find the letter for a few days. She downed three shots of whiskey before she opened it.

Wynonna,

I’m glad it was you, Earp. Waverly won’t blame ya, she’s too good, so don’t you go distancing yourself. Y’all need each other.

Transplant my tomatoes before winter comes. They’ll do well at the Homestead. Your Ma’ll give ya a hand. Bring Waverly and the cat with ya while you’re at it.

And don’t you worry about Alice. It ain’t been too long. The girl’s gonna love ya. It’s gonna shock ya how quick she takes to ya and make ya feel awful dumb for worrying.

Nic

P.S. Don’t you let my tomatoes die, Earp.

Wynonna finds Doc’s letter right beside hers. Nic had given her strict orders to hand deliver it.

She found him at his hilltop. She made sure to keep her back to the view, not wanting to see the place where Nic died. The place where you killed her, she thinks. But then she shakes her head, already hearing Nic’s scolding tone. “Weren’t like that, Earp. Don’t you start.” She smiles thinking about her noble friend.

She leaves Doc to his words with a soft, lingering kiss on the cheek.

Doc slides out a letter opener from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Of course you have a letter opener.” Wynonna laughs as she heads back down the hill.

Doc chuckles as he opens the envelope.

Doc,

Alice is coming home.

That’s the only thing that matters. Now trust me when I say Wynonna will kick Blondie to the curb in a heartbeat. All you have to do is ask.

You can make a life at the homestead. Put your ring on the mantle next to Peacemaker and watch ‘em glimmer in the firelight.

Nic

P.S. Don’t you let Earp kill my tomatoes.

P.P.S. Don’t you let Champ near Waverly, she can move on sure enough but keep that fool away or so help me I’ll haunt ya all the way from Hell.

Dolls leaves. The curse is over and there’s nothing keeping him here. He promises to visit and he truly means it.

Alice returns and the Homestead comes alive with a child underfoot. It’s just as Nic hoped, a full house with Doc, Wynonna, Alice, Waverly and the cat. Michelle on the weekends. Gus on the holidays. Dolls when he’s in the neighborhood.

Waverly tends to the garden carefully. They survived the transplant well. She spends her spare time nurturing each plant. Michelle has a green thumb so she helps often.

Nedley offers the new deputy spot to Wynonna, surprising them both. He talks about a letter from Nic that pretty much told him he’d be an idiot not to. There’s still the odd supernatural issue, but the place is Revenant free and safer for it.

Life is good. Great, even.

Alice grows up with tales of auntie Nic. Her Stetson sits permanently on the hat hook. The Earps never forget her sacrifice.

Nic did good. In the end, she did good.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Waverly’s eyes snap open, Juan Carlo’s hand still in hers. Her pulse is racing and she feels a dull ache in her hand from where his ring has dug into her finger and drawn blood.

Juan Carlo sighs. “You were not meant to see that, Waverly Earp,” he says mournfully.

Chapter Text

Waverly’s eyes are wide. She looks outside the church windows to see the sun setting. The sky blazons red.

It’s happening today. It’s happening now.

She runs out of the church grabbing her phone. She sees the message she sent Nic this morning about buying in for dinner tonight. 

Oh God.

Juan Carlo shouts after her. “We can’t interfere, Waverly.”

She dials Nic. She’s not picking up. 

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Waverly!” Juan Carlo shouts. “You cannot interfere.” He rubs his hand absently, unnerved by her unexpected ability to take control of his "visions". Peering into the future is a temptation not worth entertaining. Usually. He should've expected nothing less from an Earp.

“All due respect, Father. But that’s horse shit and you know it.”

And anyway, it’s not interfering. It’s stopping her idiot cowboy from sacrificing herself.

She jumps into her Jeep and peels out of the parking lot.

Only then does he look down at his hand and notice that his ring is missing.

As she drives she tries calling Wynonna.

No answer.

Fuck.

She puts the pedal to the floor.

Please, please, please.

She speeds to the field in her “dream”. Thank god she recognized it as Doc’s place. She then spots Wynonna’s ute confirming she’s in the right location.  But Waverly doesn’t park next to it. There’s no time. She drives all the way up to the two women who are deeper in the clearing, leaning on the horn the whole way. Wynonna thinks for a second that the Jeep’s gonna plow right through her. But Waverly slams on the brakes, kills the engine and leaps out of the car.

There they stand, Nic and Wynonna. Caught.

Wynonna’s arm is still raised in the air, her finger still hovering over the trigger.

Nic sees her falter at the surprise presence of her sister. “Wynonna, don’t you put that gun down!”

Waverly moves next to Wynonna. She can see her sister is shaking from what she is about to do.

Waverly gently takes the gun and Wynonna is grateful. Nic looks pained.

“Do you trust me?” Waverly asks her sister.

Wynonna nods. “Always, baby girl.”

Waverly looks at Nic, asking her too.

Nic nods. Course she does. With her life.

Waverly aims, the stolen ring on her finger glinting in the setting sun, and shoots.

Peacemaker glows blue.

Then Nic does too.

Waverly lets Peacemaker drop to the grass.

Nic is still standing. No flames lickin’ at her feet. No ground coming up to meet her.

“Well. Ain’t that a thing,” she mutters.

Waverly runs to her. As she gets closer Nic notices Waverly’s wearing a look not of relief but of anger.

OOF!

Waverly punches Nic in the shoulder.

Nic worries the girl hurt her hand. But she gets the feelin’ if she moans and groans it might help her along the road to forgiveness. “Ow!” she says belatedly. She takes a step back too, playin’ as if Waverly had the force to move her.

The farce pisses Waverly off even more.

She shoves her again but this time Nic plants herself firmly in the ground. “Waves?”

Waverly slaps at her chest repeatedly until Nic finally grabs her hands. She’s gonna hurt herself. 

“Waverly?” she tries again.

“Let me go,” she demands hotly. 

Nic does.

And then she gets hit again. Nic thinks about taking her to the gym. 

“A letter? That’s all I get?” Waverly shouts.

Oh.

“A lousy letter?” she repeats, each word punctuated by an (ineffectual) smack.

“And an ornery cat,” Nic tries, hoping a joke’ll help.

It doesn’t. Waverly bursts into tears.

“Oh, darl’n.”

Nic sweeps her into her chest. Waverly sobs into her shoulder. 

Nic holds tight. She aint’ to know that Waverly’s remembering the grief that was very nearly her reality. But she does know that she came awful close to dyin’ today. Awful close.

“Oh, thank fuck!” Wynonna shouts at the sky, reminding the couple she’s near. Relief lightens her features and makes her giddy.

“Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!” she yells.

She runs at the couple, giving them a bear hug.

“I don’t know how you did that, baby girl, but thank you.” She gives her a big smacking kiss on the cheek. “I don’t think I could’ve done it.” Shot Nic. Sent her down.

But Waverly knows she could’ve. Knows it would've hurt too. Another mark on Wynonna’s soul. It’s not just herself she saved from heartache today.

Wynonna clings to them both, not caring that the couple might need a moment. They’ve got the rest of their lives for that. She needs a long ‘holy shit, the curse is over’ hug.

Holy shit, the curse is over.

She felt it straight away. Felt it leave her bones.

My baby’s coming home.

She peppers kisses on both Nic and Waverly’s faces before she finally lets them go.

“Fuck you, Wyatt Earp!” she shouts gleefully.

The couple chuckle at Wynonna's joy.

Then Wynonna looks at Waverly curiously as if remembering’ something’. “Hey, how’d you get Peacemaker to do that blue thing?”

Right, Waverly has some explaining to do.

“So I fuc- So I made sweet love to your dad,” Wynnona says.

“Yes.”

“And he’s an angel.”

“Yes.”

“But he can’t remember.”

“Yes.”

“Because papa Earp kicked him out of the Ghost River Triangle in a fit of jealous rage.”

“Correct.”

“And you know this because a priest roofied you.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “It was a vision quest.”

Wynonna nods slowly.

Waverly lets it all sink in.

Wynonna speaks finally. “Thanks Waves, I just wanted to make sure I’ve got all this right for my Dr Phil application.”

Waverly rolls her eyes.

“Hey, we’re gonna be famous. Maybe even make a little money.”

Waverly should've seen this coming. Earp's roll with the punches. It's the natural by-product of being born into a cursed demon-hunting bloodline.

Waverly realizes Nic’s been awful quiet but she seems to be following along well enough. At least, she hasn’t asked anything. Actually, she should probably check-in.

“Babe, you ok? You got any questions?”

Nic thinks about it before shaking her head. “Already knew you were an angel. The surprise is that you're only half.”

Wynonna coughs then and it sounds suspiciously like the word “kiss ass”.

Waverly kisses Nic sweetly and Wynonna groans.

Waverly tells them how she snatched Juan Carlo’s ring. She doesn’t try to explain how she knew it was special because she doesn’t have an academic answer and she doesn’t want to say I just felt it in my heart out loud. She thinks explaining the whole "seeing into the future" thing might be a tale for another time. She's not even sure how she did it and it's not like she wants to do it again any time soon. Or ever, to be honest. Once was enough. No, better to focus on the issue at hand.

“What do we do about Julian?” Waverly asks.

Thankfully, Wynonna and Charlie, Julian, whatever, had already broken up a few weeks ago. Well, as much as two people having casual sex can “break up”. He had simply wanted more than she could give. So Wynonna did what Wynonna does and she dumped him via text. 

It’s not you, it’s me. We’ll always have that time in the firetruck. And that time on the firetruck. Peace x.

Charlie had simply replied. See you around, Wynonna.

That's what Wynonna calls a good, clean break. At the time Wynonna had given herself a pat on the back. But now she wants to give past-Wynonna a kiss on the lips. Because them not being together, or ever really being a “together”, has made this awkward revelation a whole lot easier. Especially with Michelle.

The mental institution had told Michelle that it was natural for her to perceive the man who tried to rescue her from her abusive husband as “angelic”, but they had gently convinced her over the course of her extended stay that she had projected that ideal onto him. They explained that that’s why it hurt so much when he left.

It had made enough sense to her. And the drugs certainly helped her on the path to acceptance.

So it sure was a surprise for her when her daughters came round saying Julian was not only still around but he hadn’t aged a day.

Michelle weren’t stupid. She grew up in Purgatory and she knew all about Revenants and the Earp curse. But it’s not everyday someone tells you you slept with an angel in the 90s. Or that you maybe even fell in love with one, if you could've ever called it that. It all happened so fast and then the next 20 years happened even faster.

But right here and now, Michelle ain’t wanna touch Julian with a ten-foot pole. Tells them she’s just fine goin’ the rest of her life not interacting with the man. She came back to Purgatory for her girls. That’s it.

Waverly didn’t say anything but Nic could see she was proud of her mama.

All that was left to do was tell the man/angel himself; Julian.

Waverly meets Charlie outside the fire station. She brings Wynonna and Nic for support. They stay back, giving the two space.

Rather than explain herself and their lengthy story, Waverly decides to simply give Charlie Juan Carlo's ring (it felt like the right thing to do, she didn't question it). As soon as he slides it over his finger, he gets his memories back.

He also instantly changes from sweet Charlie to pious Julian. And he's not pleased.

He calls the whole ordeal a temptation, a failed test, and swears to never again let himself be swayed by the needs of the flesh. He vows to no longer walk among humans and instead return to the sanctity of the garden.

He (rather rudely) calls Michelle and Wynonna seductresses both and ends his rant with a jab about how the Earps are a shining example of all that is wrong with the world of man.

Wynonna and Nic aren't sure what to do, too shocked to respond and more worried about Waverly who has stayed surprisingly silent during his blow-up.

Then Waverly bursts out laughing. They join in, doubled over in tears, until Julian leaves in a huff.

They never see him again.

Men ain’t shit.

Nic checked in later but Waverly really wasn't too bothered. She’d stopped letting daddys break her heart and well, at the end of the day she'd always be grateful to Julian. He'd given her the greatest gift of all; the power to save her love. It didn’t matter to her that he was a self-righteous prick. What's another shitty dad?

Waverly and Nic are sitting on the porch. They had been working in the garden when it started to rain. Now they sit and watch their plants get a good watering from their covered back-step. It's not cold but the girls huddle close, as they've taken to do in the days since Nic's near-miss.

“So I read your letter,” Waverly says.

Nic looks up.

“You would’ve married me?”

Nic nods. It’s not even a question.

Waverly smirks. “How would you’ve asked?”

“In bed,” Nic says quickly.

Waverly slaps her shoulder.

Nic just smiles. Truth is she’s dreamed it a thousand ways. Let her mind get carried away, the way you do when you know it ain't have a chance of comin' true. But now, she supposes, it does. To answer Waves' question, she picks her most favorite.

“Would’ve made sure it was a sunny day, not like this. You’d be wearing a flowy dress. I’d be wearing jeans with my best flannel rolled up at the sleeves cos you love my forearms." Waverly reaches for her forearms then and Nic makes sure to flex. It makes Waverly chuckle.

"I’d get down on one knee in the garden, next to my tomatoes. I’d tell you-”

Her voice hitches with emotion and Waverly slides her hand into her own to ground her. “I’d tell you I ain’t start livin’ til I laid eyes on ya behind that bar. And I ain’t stopped thinkin’ about ya since. That I’ll love you til my dyin’ breath and even then, if you called, I’d come crawlin’.”

Waverly is cryin’ now and Nic wipes her tears softly.

“Dumbest thing I ever did was almost die for ya,” she whispers.

“No shit,” Waverly says. But she smiles and Nic knows she’s forgiven. Feels the warmth spread across her chest, feels her lungs expand making her breathe easier.

“Thank you, Waverly Earp,” she says softly. For my life. For your love.

She kisses her then, surrounded by the soothing sound of rain on tin and the smell of damp earth, and she could swear she glows blue.

They get married three years later under a lonely tree in Spring bloom.

It’s a small affair. Alice is flower girl. Doc officiates. Wynonna walks Waverly down the aisle.

At the altar, with Waverly walking towards her, Nic thinks maybe she did die all ‘em years ago and this is Heaven. But she has whispered that thought to Waverly countless times in the dark to which her darlin’ always replies the same thing.

“Don’t you dare attribute to god what I rendered with my own two hands.”

Nic always kisses her knuckles reverently when she says that, and so she does the same thing now, when Waverly arrives to stand before her.

Oh god, she’s already cryin’.

Nic’s suit doesn’t leave Waverly blind but it does leave her speechless. Her vows fly right out of her head. It pisses Waverly off cos she worked hard on them and all she can think to say is “Gosh”. Nic winks and her mind finally starts to whir into action. The rehearsed vows never come back to her but she must say something right because Nic starts crying anew and Doc has to clear his throat before he continues.

The rest of the ceremony goes quickly.

Nedley blubbers like a baby, sitting next to the chairs they left empty in honor of uncle Nic and uncle Curtis.

At the reception, Lonnie surprises everyone by baking a delicious vegan wedding cake. They were probably about as surprised as he was when he found out that Waverly and Nic were getting married. He thought they was just regular ol' gal pals. After that revelation, he confirmed that gays also enjoy wedding cakes (another win for Nedley's open door policy) and decided he was gonna bake 'em somethin' special.

Later in the evening, Dolls drinks too much and starts a small fire (dragon-related). Nic rolls up her sleeves and puts it out herself with an extinguisher, blessedly sparing a call to the fire department. Waverly swoons and Wynonna makes fake gagging motions before Doc quietly leads her back out to the dance floor, Alice between them. Michelle and Nedley are there too, swaying to some ol' love song.

And at the end of the night, too tired from the day to even think about undressing themselves let alone each other, Waverly and Nic flop into bed and promise to totally blow the other’s mind tomorrow. Maybe after a long sleep-in. Under the covers, Waverly crawls into Nic’s side and Nic tucks her in close and doesn’t let go.

Nic is always astounded by good days. And they ain’t get much better than this.