Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Put Your Faith in Love

Chapter 1

Put your faith in love. That was the phrase echoing around and around inside Waverly Earp’s head. Put your faith in love. She wasn't sure where she had heard it. Maybe on a bumper sticker? Or during one of those late-night infomercials for yet another online dating service? Waverly shook her head abruptly. It didn't matter where she had heard it. All that mattered was that she was determined to cling to the sentiment as if someone's life depended on it. And maybe someone's did.

She shifted uncomfortably in the hard plastic chair, careful not to squeeze too hard on the hand clasped tightly in her own. Her eyes never left the deathly pale face of the woman that occupied the hospital bed in front of her. Nicole. Her strong, beautiful Nicole looked so small and so vulnerable lying there, hooked up to tubes and wires that monitored her vital signs incessantly. Waverly pressed her free hand to her lips, choking back a sob. Wynonna would find a cure, she told herself, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Until then, she just had to have faith.

The door opened behind her, and Waverly heard the unmistakable sound of her sister's boots clacking on the tile floor. Twisting around in her seat, she looked up hopefully, searching Wynonna’s face for any sign of good news. Finding none, she turned forward again, her shoulders slumping as she resumed her vigil.

“Hey, baby girl,” Wynonna whispered. “How’s she doing?”

Waverly shrugged disconsolately. “Same,” she replied, her voice slightly hoarse from crying. “You haven't found anything yet.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Waverly was aware of the faintly accusatory tone. She leaned forward and gently smoothed a stray lock of red hair away from Nicole’s closed eyes.

“She’s still fighting though.” She tried to smile, even though it felt like her face was about to crack.

Wynonna laid her hand on Waverly’s shoulder, trying in vain to console her younger sister.

“Of course she is,” Wynonna agreed. “She's a tough one.”

“She's the best,” Waverly murmured, more to herself than to her sister.

Wynonna pulled up a chair alongside her sister, wincing at the harsh scrape of the metal legs against the floor. The Earp sisters fell into a strained silence, broken only by the steady electronic beep of Nicole's heart monitor. Waverly stared intently at the shallow rise and fall of her girlfriend’s chest as she watched for any indication that Nicole might be waking up soon. Finally, Wynonna cleared her throat cautiously.

“Hey, Wave? Look…I don't want you to get your hopes up too much, but we might have a lead on an antidote. Doc and Jeremy are checking it out.”

Waverly’s heart leapt. The team had been searching for a cure for almost three days now. Three days since Nicole had fallen victim to a mysterious toxin that threatened to shut down her entire nervous system. Three days since Waverly had found Nicole sprawled unconscious just inside the front door to her home, a bouquet of lilies still clutched in her hand. The card had fallen to the floor, and she shivered at the memory of the moment that her entire world had turned upside down.

Nicole,
I'm so sorry. Can we talk?
Waves

Only Waverly hadn't written the card, hadn't sent the flowers. She remembered very little after that. A frantic 911 call. Sirens wailing. Her own voice pleading with Nicole. Stay with me, baby. Please, stay with me. Wynonna had met them at the hospital, and Waverly had collapsed in her sister’s arms, spilling out her story in between anguished sobs. Dolls had retrieved the suspicious flowers, and an analysis confirmed that they had been laced with a poison made up of scorpion venom and something else. Something Rosita said wasn't found in nature. After that, the race to find a cure had been on. But now, they were running out of time. No one had told Waverly this, but she was good at reading people, and she could see it in the looks of increased concern on the faces of the myriad of doctors and nurses that paraded through Nicole's hospital room at all hours.

Why would someone try to kill Nicole? Waverly wondered again and again. Why would someone hurt Nicole, who would never hurt anyone if she could help it? Her mind flashed back to the fight they'd had five days ago when she'd found her opened DNA results tucked inside Nicole’s purse. God, she’d felt so angry, hurt and betrayed, and she had stormed out of Shorty’s without giving Nicole a chance to explain. For two days after that they had sulked and sniped at each other, though to be honest, Waverly had done most of the actual sniping. Because I love you. Those were the last words she remembered Nicole saying to her. She wondered if she would ever hear them again.

“Waverly? Did you hear me?” Wynonna’s voice, tinged with concern, cut through her trance.

Waverly nodded dully. “Doc and Jeremy have a lead.”

It was the fourth lead that they had chased down, the first three being futile and fruitless. She didn't want to get her hopes up too high, only to have them dashed again. Glancing sideways at Wynonna, she could see the worried frown tugging at her sister’s lips. So Waverly did what she always did. She gave her sister what she hoped passed for an optimistic smile, but this time Wynonna wasn't buying it.

“You don't have to pretend for me, baby girl.”

Waverly's brave facade crumbled, and before she knew it, fresh tears were trickling down her cheeks. She felt Wynonna’s arm slide around her trembling shoulders, pulling her close.

“Wynonna, the last thing I said to her was so mean! What if….” Waverly’s voice trailed off, unable to finish the one thought that she refused to allow herself to say aloud.

Wynonna shook her head firmly. “Uh-uh. Nope. We are not doing ‘what-ifs.’ Not today. Doc will find something this time, and Haughtshot there will be just fine. You'll see.”

Waverly sighed and nestled her head against her sister’s shoulder.

“How can you be so sure?”

Wynonna shrugged matter-of-factly. “Because I am the goddamn Earp heir, that's how. And I will take down anything that stands in our way. Revenants. Demons. Even craptastic bouquets of poison flowers.”

The typical Wynonna defiance faded, and her face softened as she turned her sister’s head and looked her in the eyes, “Waverly, I know you're scared. But we’ll get through this. Your girl will get through this. So lean on me for a while if you need to. I've got you.”

Waverly smiled genuinely then. Buoyed by her sister’s conviction, she tightened her grip on her fallen girlfriend’s hand. At least for one more night, she was going to have faith.

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Doc Holliday winced at the aggressively cheerful music blaring from his car stereo. Wynonna had made him trade his cassette player for something called satellite radio, and Waverly had left this station playing the last time she’d been in his car. Doc thought this particular songstress sounded very much like a prairie dog in heat, but it was infinitely favorable to listening to the incessant chattering of the man in the passenger seat beside him. Jeremy had been prattling on about some Japanese art form called “manga” for the better part of an hour, and Doc was beginning to feel a headache building behind his eyes.

“Jeremy, as fascinating as all of this is, I am trying to concentrate,” Doc said wearily, squinting through the heavy snowfall at the road ahead of them.

“Oh, um, yeah. Sorry,” Jeremy said sheepishly. “Dolls hardly ever lets me go out in the field. I guess I’m a little nervous and I talk too much when I’m nervous.”

Doc nodded absently, his gaze fixed on a dark speck in the distance.

“I believe that our destination is up ahead.”

Within minutes, Doc had parked in front of a sprawling, well-kept ranch house. There appeared to be no other buildings on the property, which struck him as peculiar. Tilting his hat back a bit, he peered up at the house, noticing that light shone through one of the front windows. While Jeremy fidgeted beside him, Doc drew his revolvers and opened the cylinders. Once sure that both were loaded, he holstered one and held the other out to Jeremy who gawked at him in wide-eyed horror.

“No. No way. I don't do guns!” Jeremy held up his hands and shook his head vehemently. “I'm just the science guy, remember?”

“It's for your own protection, Jeremy,” Doc said. “Who knows what kind of malfeasance we could be walking into?”

When Jeremy still declined the firearm, Doc merely sighed, though not unkindly. He tucked the revolver back in its customary place at his right hip. After adjusting his hat once more, he opened his car door and stepped out of the vehicle.

“Well, let's go then. No more time to waste,” he called back over his shoulder as he climbed the porch steps, careful not to slip on the thin layer of ice that coated them.

The crunch of shoes against snow told him that Jeremy was following behind him. The two men paused outside the front door and exchanged a grim look. Both knew that this was probably their last chance to save the friend who lay dying in a hospital room back in Purgatory. With a subtle tilt of his head, Doc directed Jeremy to knock on the door while his own hands rested lightly on the butts of the guns at his sides. After an interminably long moment, they heard the soft shuffle of footsteps inside. The front door swung inward, revealing an elderly Asian man who greeted them with a curious look and a wary, but not unfriendly smile.

“Are you boys lost?” He asked.

“Actually, we were hoping you could help us with a particular predicament we're in,” Doc replied, returning the man’s smile.

“And what makes you think this?” The man asked cautiously.

“Uh, you're Joseph Quan, right?” Jeremy asked, reading the name on a scrap of paper and oblivious to the warning look that Doc was shooting at him. “We heard you were the guy to talk to about poisons and stuff.”

Doc laughed. “What my young companion means is—-“

Joseph Quan’s face clouded over. He scanned the yard behind them, making sure that they were alone.

“Perhaps you had both better come inside,” he said in a business-like manner.

He stepped aside and allowed them to enter. The interior of the house was dimly lit, and it took a moment for Doc’s eyes to adjust to the gloom. The first thing he noticed was a row of glass terrariums lining the hallway, each containing a single spider or scorpion. Doc involuntarily recoiled.

“Don't worry, Mr. Holliday,” Quan said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “My pets won't harm you. Unless you make them angry, of course.”

“Far be it from me to be the source of their displeasure, then.” Doc’s eyes narrowed as he realized that Quan had addressed him by name.

“I take it that you are aware of our identities, Mr. Quan?”

Quan led them to a parlor filled with ornately carved, antique furniture. With a wave of a thin, bony hand, he directed them to sit upon an overstuffed sofa.

“I am a collector of rare and deadly things, Mr. Holliday,” he said, once everyone was seated. “I make it my business to know the identities of anyone who enters my home. I knew who you and Mr. Chetri were, the moment you stepped onto my property.”

Doc leaned back casually against the plush sofa, but the fingers of his right hand hand continued to twitch above his sidearm. He regarded Quan with a cool, penetrating stare.

“I believe you indicated that you had business to discuss,” Quan said, breaking the tense silence.

He directed his comments toward Jeremy, and the young scientist shifted nervously in his seat. He cleared his throat as he gingerly removed a small plastic evidence bag from his coat pocket. The bag appeared to be empty except for traces of a fine white powder. After a reassuring nod from Doc, Jeremy leaned forward and held the bag out towards their enigmatic host.

“Uh, we were hoping you could help us identify this,” Jeremy said. “Our analysis showed the presence of Deathstalker scorpion venom, but there's something else too. Something we couldn't classify.”

“It's actually a really cool poison —- the way it works on the central nervous system,” he laughed suddenly before squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “No, Jeremy,” he muttered to himself. “Poisons are not cool. Poisons are bad.”

With a grave expression, Joseph Quan took the bag from Jeremy. He held it up to the light, examining the granules within closely. Then he held it up to his nose and sniffed the plastic carefully. When he was done, he handed the sample back, his brow deeply furrowed with concern.

“Manticore venom,” he said. “That is the other ingredient. This is a poison known as The Scorpion’s Kiss. It is very rare and almost always deadly. Where did you get it?”

“A very dear friend of ours is suffering from the effects of this foul substance,” Doc replied. “We were hoping that perhaps you could shed some light on a cure for what ails her.”

“Your friend, how long ago was she stricken?”

“Almost three days ago,” Jeremy said. “The doctors induced a coma to try to slow down the poison.”

Joseph Quan raised an eyebrow in surprise. “She must be an exceptionally strong woman. I have never heard of anyone surviving The Scorpion’s Kiss for more than 24 hours.”

“She’s a fighter,” Doc agreed amiably, though he was growing impatient. “Now, can you help us or not?”

“I can,” Quan replied slowly. “For a fair price, of course.”

Anger bloomed in Doc’s chest, and he ground his teeth together to keep from lashing out at this purveyor of agony and death. Instead, he simply nodded.

“Perhaps we can negotiate an equitable exchange after we’ve seen the merchandise.”

Apparently satisfied with the answer, Quan stood and beckoned for them to follow. He led the pair to a small bedroom at the rear of the house. Inside the room, large rosewood apothecary chests lined every wall. Leaving Doc and Jeremy standing in the doorway, he crossed to one of the chests and began scanning the labels on every tiny drawer. Finally, he seemed to locate the one he was searching for. Before opening it, however, he turned back to look at Doc curiously.

“Tell me, Mr. Holliday. Who sent you to me?”

“A mutual acquaintance,” Doc said.

Doc had bribed a relatively harmless revenant for the information back in Purgatory. Though Wynonna would surely disapprove of him making deals with her mortal enemies, Doc thought a lifetime supply of free whiskey was a small price to pay for information that might save Officer Haught’s life.

Quan hesitated. His gaze drifted downward to the revolvers at the ageless gunslinger’s hips, then back up to the look of steely resolve in Doc’s eyes.

“I don't suppose I have a choice, do I?” He asked, nodding pointedly at the guns.

“What?! Of course you have a choice! Doc, tell him he has a choice!” Jeremy exclaimed.

Doc’s lips curled into an easy grin that didn't touch his eyes.

“Of course he has a choice, Jeremy. We all have choices in life.”

Quan smiled faintly, but his amusement turned to horror and dismay when he finally pulled open the small drawer. Trembling, he turned and faced the gunslinger and the scientist.

“I had a sample of this poison, as well as the antidote to it. I procured them both from a witch in Singapore many years ago. The cure is still here, but the poison is gone!” He gasped.

Three long strides took Doc across the room. He seized the clearly terrified man by the throat and squeezed.

“Who did you sell it to?” He snarled.

“No one!” Quan clawed at the hand that was currently cutting off air to his windpipe. “I swear! I sold it to no one!”

“We don't have time for this right now, Doc,” Jeremy reminded him, trying to diffuse the dangerously tense atmosphere. “We’re here for the antidote, remember?”

Quan reached back, his fingers scrabbling in the tiny drawer. He held up a small glass vial containing a viscous amber liquid. He flinched as Doc released his throat and swiped the container from his hand.

“That is what you came here for,” he wheezed through his bruised windpipe. “Take it and go. And be careful, gentlemen. Whoever stole The Scorpion's Kiss from me must be very clever and hates your friend very much.”

Though Doc remained unconvinced of the man’s denials of guilt, he realized that they did not have time to discuss the matter further. He handed the vial to Jeremy and waited while his companion removed the rubber stopper and sniffed the contents.

Jeremy nodded. “Seems authentic.”

Doc would never understand how the young scientist seemed to know the composition of things just by smell or taste. He merely grunted in acknowledgment and took a step back. He tipped his hat at Quan.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” he said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I am a bit pressed for time, but my friends and I will be back with more questions. And I might not be nearly so agreeable next time.”

He jerked his head towards the door, backing up slowly while keeping his gaze fixed on Joseph Quan.

“Let's go, Jeremy. And send Wynonna one of your those text message things. Tell her Miss Haught’s salvation is on its way.”

Doc glanced at Jeremy and was surprised to find him still rooted to the floor where he stood, his thumbs tapping furiously at his phone.

“Jeremy?”

“I texted Wynonna,” he said. “I'm taking the antidote back to Purgatory myself. You need to stay here and find out what you can about who stole the poison.”

Jeremy held up his hand to silence the argument forthcoming out of Doc’s mouth.

“It’s the right thing to do, Doc. What if more of this poison is still out there? Who knows who else could get hurt?”

Jeremy pointed at Quan. “And if this guy did sell this stuff to someone, then you need to find out everything he knows. And let's face it, you're probably a little more intimidating than I am when it comes to getting information out of people. You've got that whole smoldering intensity thing. It's pretty awesome watching you work.”

Ignoring the awkward but flattering infatuation that Jeremy seemed to have with him, Doc considered the young man’s proposal and could find no flaw in his plan. He exhaled slowly, nodding once.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself?” He inquired.

“Absolutely,” Jeremy confirmed resolutely. “I’ll send someone to come get you when I get back to town. That should give you plenty of time to ask some questions.”

“Okay, then,” Doc agreed, handing Jeremy his keys as he put a friendly hand on the scientist’s shoulder and gently shoved him out the door. “Drive, Jeremy. Drive like the Devil himself is in your rear view mirror.”

Doc waited until he heard the car engine roar to life and the sound of tires retreating towards the main road. Though he was not an especially God-fearing man, he offered up a silent prayer that Jeremy would reach the hospital in time. Then he turned back to Joseph Quan, who was watching him apprehensively.

“Now then, where were we?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Just past midnight in a cold and sterile room in Purgatory’s Northern Memorial Hospital, Waverly Earp closed her eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. She couldn't even remember the last time she’d been able to catch more than a few precious moments of rest. Instead, every time she shut her eyes, she was haunted by memories that seemed seared into her brain.

She remembered arriving at Nicole’s house, hoping to clear the air between them and maybe even reconcile. They had been fighting for two of the worst days of Waverly’s life. It had been an especially chilly morning, and she remembered the way she could see her breath puffing out in front of her as she walked up the driveway. As she reached the porch steps, she had noticed that the front door was ajar.

Nicole? She had called out as she climbed the steps.

Her girlfriend would never have left the door open like that, for fear that her cat, Calamity Jane might get out. Waverly recalled the cold bands of fear tightening her chest when she reached the top step and saw her love lying motionless in the entryway. Nicole had been so pale, so still.

Time had seemed to speed up then. She had heard an anguished scream piercing the air and realized that it had been her own voice crying out. She recalled cradling Nicole’s limp body in her arms while begging her not to die.

In the ambulance, Nicole had stopped breathing. Waverly had felt like her own lungs had ceased taking in oxygen as she watched the paramedics attempt to resuscitate Nicole. When they reached the hospital, the doctors had stopped her at the emergency room doors. She could only watch helplessly as they wheeled Nicole out of her sight. Some time later, Deputy Marshal Xavier Dolls was at her side, though Waverly had no idea when he had arrived. He had given her an update on Nicole’s condition, though the only words she had really heard were “poison” and “coma”.

She’s awake now. Dolls had said. He had looked at both Waverly and Wynonna with an expression that left little doubt about the gravity of the situation. She wants to see both of you. Waverly, she won't let them put her under until she talks to you.

Waverly had run to Nicole’s side with Wynonna following closely behind. She'd been unprepared for what she had found. Nicole was screaming from the pain as spasms wracked her body. Her eyes had been closed, but she opened them and turned her head towards the sound of Waverly’s stricken gasp.

Waverly, I’m so sorry. I couldn't go until I told you that. And I just need you to know...no matter what happens...I have never loved anybody as much as I love you.

There was so much that Waverly had wanted to say. So much that she should have said. But, she had been overcome by emotion, and the words had caught in her throat.

Nope. No. We’re not doing this. Those were the only words she had whispered before fleeing from the room.

“Holy shit, Waverly! They got it!”

Waverly’s trip through her own private hellscape of regret was interrupted as Wynonna burst into the room, waving her phone triumphantly.

“Did you hear what I said, baby girl? Doc and Jeremy came through. Jeremy’s on his way with the cure right now!”

Waverly stared mutely at her sister. As comprehension dawned on her, she crumpled to the floor, sobbing from both exhaustion and relief. Within seconds, Wynonna was at her side, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“It’s ok, Wave,” Wynonna said, stroking her sister’s hair. “It’s ok. I've got you.”

Just then, there was a soft knock on the doorframe. The Earp sisters looked up simultaneously to find Deputy Marshal Dolls
standing over them.

“I take it you heard?” He exchanged a quick glance with Wynonna.

“Yeah, I was just giving Waverly the good news,” she said.

Dolls nodded. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, and filled them in on the rest of the news. Jeremy was driving back with the antidote as fast as he could, but it would still be at least an hour before he arrived. The BBD scientist had left Doc behind to interrogate a person of interest in the attack on Nicole’s life.

Wynonna perked up at that. “Does he need backup? I wouldn't mind taking a run at the shitheel that might've hurt Nicole.”

“Never mind that, Earp,” Dolls replied. “Focus on your sister. I sent Rosita after Doc.”

Waverly caught the way that Wynonna rolled her eyes at the mention of Rosita’s name. Though Wynonna and Rosita were friendly enough, Waverly knew that her sister was jealous of the relationship between Doc and the biochemist-slash-bartender he employed. Waverly stood, groaning softly at the stiffness in her back and knees caused by three days of sitting at Nicole’s bedside. She reached down and pulled Wynonna to her feet as well.

“Can you guys give us a few minutes?” Waverly asked her sister and the Marshal.

Wynonna opened her mouth to speak, but Dolls swiftly interrupted her.

“Of course,” he said. “Come on, Earp. Let's go get some coffee.”

Gratitude shone in Waverly’s eyes as Dolls gave her an understanding smile while practically dragging Wynonna from the room. Once they were gone, she returned to Nicole’s side, taking her girlfriend’s hand in her own.

“Did you hear that, baby? You just have to hang on a little bit longer.”

Waverly leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nicole’s forehead. The red headed officer’s skin was unusually cool to the touch. Nicole typically radiated warmth. In fact, on cold nights, Waverly liked to snuggle against her and jokingly referred to her as a “bonus blanket.”

“Just a little bit longer, okay?” Waverly repeated. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise. I love you, Nicole Haught.”

Nicole’s fingers twitched. Waverly’s eyes widened in surprise, and she wondered if Nicole had heard her declaration of love.

“Nicole? Can you hear me?”

Waverly waited, but there was no further response, and she began to wonder if she had imagined it. Suddenly, she became aware of a presence behind her and a feeling of being watched. She whirled around towards the door, but there was no one there except a lone nurse at the station across the way. A chill travelled down her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms.

“Excuse me,” Waverly called out to the nurse. “Did you see anyone else here just now?”

“Sorry hon,” the nurse gave her a preoccupied head shake. “Haven't seen anyone except your crazy sister and that handsome man y’all seem to work for.”
Waverly frowned. Maybe the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with her. In a moment, her strange feeling was forgotten as Wynonna returned and handed her a cup of coffee. Waverly took a sip and nearly spat the scalding bitter liquid back into the cup.

“Yeah, sorry,” Wynonna said with a shrug. “Tastes like revenant ass, but it was all I could find.”

“You could've warned me, Wynonna!”

“You're right. I could've,” Wynonna agreed soberly before breaking into a mischievous grin. “But where's the fun in that?”

Laughing, Waverly punched her sister in the shoulder. It felt good to laugh, even for just a moment, and she could see the relief washing over Wynonna’s face. Even as focused as she had been on Nicole, Waverly had known how worried Wynonna was about her.

“Hey, where’s Dolls?” Waverly asked, finally noticing that he hadn't returned with Wynonna.

“Went back to the office,” Wynonna replied. “Said he needed to get something before Jeremy gets here.”

“Like what?’”

“I don't know, Waverly! Voodoo doll? Magic mirror? Enchanted thimble, maybe?”

Waverly paused, frowning slightly. “Why would we need an enchanted thimble? That only cures sleeping spells. It would have no effect on mystical poisons.”

“Whatever, you big nerd,” Wynonna said fondly. “I have no idea what he’s getting.”

The sisters reclaimed their seats in the uncomfortable chairs next to Nicole’s bed. An easy silence filled the room as the Earps sat side by side and watched their friend and lover sleep. Neither of them drank the disgusting hospital coffee in their hands.

“Hey, Waverly? You know I like Nicole, right?” Wynonna asked suddenly.

“Sure,” Waverly said, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“But like, I really like her,” Wynonna said, placing her hand on her sister’s forearm. “I mean, I like the two of you. Together and shit.”

Waverly's curiosity was piqued. The sisters had never had a serious conversation about Waverly's new relationship or her recently discovered sexuality. Though she knew that her sister didn't disapprove, Waverly was interested to hear more of Wynonna’s thoughts. She waited, knowing that her silence would prompt her sister to continue.

“Shit,” Wynonna said again, using her favorite expletive. “I think I'm doing this wrong.” She took a deep breath and exhaled in a huff.

“Wave, I’m so proud of you. You know that, don't you? You're so smart and you've got such a huge heart. And I always thought you could do so much better than Chump.”

“You mean Champ.” Waverly rolled her eyes at hearing her ex-boyfriend’s name.

“Whatever that rodeo clown’s name was,” Wynonna continued, her voice dripping with derision towards her sister’s ex. “He was never good enough for you. He never really made you happy.”

She lifted her chin towards Nicole. “Officer Haughtcakes, there, makes you happier than I’ve ever seen you. And I know it hasn't always been easy being an Earp, so you deserve that. Hell, one of us deserves to be happy.”

Waverly was surprised to see tears welling in Wynonna’s eyes as she went on.

“So here's what we're gonna do. First, we’re gonna save your girl. Next, you're gonna quit all this mopey fighting bullshit and go back to making those truly hurl-inducing googly eyes at each other. Then, you're gonna take her home and do whatever you two need to do to reaallly make up. Which I totally do not need the details of, by the way.”

Waverly laughed through her own tears. She slapped Wynonna’s arm with the back of her hand before pulling her into a grateful hug. She felt Wynonna kiss the side of her head and heard the next words her sister whispered in her ear.

“Waverly Earp, when all this is over, you tell that woman that you love her. You both deserve that.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

Waverly awoke to find her sister shaking her. Terror gripped her, and panicked questions tumbled from her lips.

“Oh my God? What's wrong? Is Nicole okay?”

“It’s okay, Wave,” Wynonna reassured her. “Jeremy’s here.”

Confused and slightly disoriented by the fluorescent overhead lights, Waverly checked the time on her phone. She was astonished to discover that she’d been asleep for nearly half an hour. She didn't even remember closing her eyes. Wynonna’s words penetrated her brain then, and Waverly sprang from her chair.

“Jeremy!”

The BBD scientist glanced up from where he and Dolls were examining the contents of a glass vial.

“Hey,” he said with a smile as Waverly leapt forward and enveloped him in a crushing embrace.

“Is this it? Is this the antidote?”

Waverly released Jeremy and carefully took the vial from his hand and held it up to the light. The thick liquid within had the color and consistency of honey. Reluctantly, she handed it back to Dolls. She was almost afraid that if she let go of this miracle cure, even for a second, it would vanish before her eyes.

Dolls handed the vial and a small black case to Jeremy. She had seen that case before at the scientist’s workstation back at the Black Badge offices, and she remembered it contained several different sizes of syringes and needles.

“Are you sure this is gonna work?” Waverly questioned him as she watched him assemble the equipment.

“Um, I think so,” Jeremy said as he inserted the needle into the vial and began to slowly draw the antidote into the syringe.

“You think so?” Waverly repeated skeptically.

Jeremy paused thoughtfully. “I guess I’m like, eighty-three percent sure? I mean, I didn't really get a chance to test it on anything. So, yeah, eighty-three percent. Which means there's a seventeen percent chance that she could---“

“That she could what? Die?” Waverly interrupted him before he could finish.

“Waverly, I’m sorry.” Jeremy said quietly. “She's dying anyway. Let me try.”

She knew he was right. This antidote was the last hope that they had. Even though math hadn't been her strongest subject in school, she still knew that an eighty-three percent chance was way better than no chance at all. And she knew she would never forgive herself if Nicole died before they had exhausted all of their options. She ran her hands through her hair and straightened her shoulders, steeling herself for what was to come.

“Okay,” she said firmly. “Let's do this.”

Jeremy held up the syringe and took a deep breath.

“Are you sure you're ready?” He asked Waverly.

She nodded, her eyes wide. Jeremy’s hands were shaking, so Waverly wrapped her fingers around his wrist briefly.

“You can do this,” she whispered, hoping that she sounded convincing.

Jeremy swallowed hard and nodded. His hands were steadier as he reached for Nicole’s IV line. He glanced at Dolls, and some prearranged signal seemed to pass between them because Dolls moved to stand near the head of the bed.

“I don't know how she’ll react to this,” Jeremy explained to Waverly. “I have to administer the antidote slowly, and I might need Dolls to restrain her.”

He took a shaky breath, painstakingly inserted the tip of the needle into the IV, and slowly began to depress the plunger.

“Okay,” he said, his voice cracking. “Here we go.”

Nothing happened for several long seconds, and Waverly felt her heart sinking. It wasn't working. All of their efforts had been for nothing. Then, when the syringe was halfway empty, Nicole began to convulse violently.

“Shit!” Jeremy exclaimed through gritted teeth. “Dolls, hold her down!”

Waverly could only watch as Dolls swiftly grabbed Nicole’s shoulders and pinned her to the bed, while Wynonna held her legs. Jeremy continued the inexorable injection of the antidote. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead from the strain of keeping his hands steady. Two nurses burst into the room, alerted by the electronic shrieks emanating from the monitors.

“What the hell are you doing to her?” One of the nurses asked angrily. “Who are you people?”

Dolls placed one hand in the center of Nicole's chest to keep her restrained. With his other hand, he reached into his jacket and produced his badge, holding it up for the nurses to see.

“Deputy Marshal Dolls,” he announced brusquely. “This is a Black Badge matter and your assistance is not required. Leave before I have you both arrested for treason.”

Not long after the nurses departed in a huff, Nicole’s convulsions began to subside. Jeremy removed the needle and dropped the empty syringe on the counter. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Wow. That was...intense,” he said.

“She's still breathing. That's a good sign,” Dolls noted. “You did good, Jeremy.”

“Now what?” Wynonna asked, as she and Dolls both released their hold on Nicole’s body.

“I dunno,” Jeremy said, lifting his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I guess we wait.”

The next few minutes felt like hours as Waverly stood beside the bed. Nicole's hand was clasped in hers, their fingers intertwined. She wasn't sure, but she thought Nicole felt warmer, more...alive.

“Come on, baby,” she urged. “Come back to me.”

The change in pressure was so slight at first that Waverly didn't even realize what was happening. Then, the grip on her hand tightened noticeably. Waverly froze, scarcely even daring to breathe. Her heart thudded against her chest. Wynonna was standing across from her on the other side of the bed, and from the look on her face, Waverly knew that her sister saw it too. Nicole's fingers were moving.

“I'm here, Nicole. We're all here,” Waverly said, her eyes brimming with tears. “Please wake up.”

She pressed her lips to Nicole's forehead, oblivious to the tears that spilled down her own cheeks and dampened her girlfriend’s face. She pulled back slightly, though they were still so close that they could've touched noses. Waverly searched Nicole's face for a sign, wordlessly pleading for something, anything. Much to her amazement, Nicole's eyelids fluttered. As Waverly watched incredulously, her girlfriend’s eyes gradually drifted open.

“Wave...Waverly?” Nicole’s voice was barely audible, and she blinked slowly, her gaze unfocused.

Waverly’s face lit up with a brilliant smile, and she laughed as pure joy and relief flooded through her.

“I'm here. I'm right here,” she declared, gently stroking Nicole’s cheek.

She shut her eyes momentarily, reveling in the sensation of Nicole’s fingertips tracing her jawline and moving up to lightly brush across her eyelids. I missed you so much. I thought I lost you. Don't ever do this to me again. There were so many things Waverly wanted to say, but she knew that it wasn't the right time. The only thing that mattered now was that Nicole was with her. Fresh tears began to flow.

“Are you crying?” Nicole murmured groggily. “Don't cry, Waves.”

Waverly shushed her. “They're happy tears, babe. I'm just so glad to see you.”

It was as if everyone and everything else had disappeared and they were the last two people in the world. Suddenly, Waverly realized that they were the only two people left in the room. Somehow, the others had slipped out without her noticing. She made a mental note to thank them for it later.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” Nicole said, distress evident in her voice as she began to become more aware of her surroundings. “I don't want to do anything that’ll make you unhappy. I love you.”

Waverly looked into Nicole’s warm brown eyes and was struck by the depths of sincerity she found there. Looking into the redhead’s eyes had always made her feel safe, like she was being wrapped in a big, fluffy hug. Gazing into them now, Waverly finally found the courage to say the words that she'd been unable to say before. The idea of expressing the intensity of her feelings had always terrified her and made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a precipice. Now though, Waverly felt no fear. Lifting Nicole's hand to her lips, she kissed her way across the knuckles. She inhaled deeply and took the plunge.

“I love you too, Nicole. I love you so much.”

Waverly watched the slow smile spread across Nicole's face, revealing the deep dimples that made her melt every time she saw them. Her breath hitched in her chest. How could a woman who’d been on her deathbed just moments ago look so damn beautiful? She was suddenly aware of how awful she must look, herself, with her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. Hastily, she wiped her face with her free hand.

Nicole's smile just widened. She seemed almost fully awake now, though her speech was still a little bit slurred.

“S’okay, Waves. You're always beautiful,” Nicole said, seeming to read her mind.

Waverly snorted, amused but not terribly surprised. Nicole had an uncanny knack for always knowing exactly what she was thinking.

“How do you do that?” She asked, not for the first time.

Nicole patted her own chest proudly. “Supercop skills. I can also handcuff you to this bed in under three seconds flat.”

Waverly grinned at the lascivious twinkle in her girlfriend's eyes. This was her Nicole. Bold, confident, sexy as all hell. This was the woman who had walked into Shorty’s that day, Stetson in hand, and changed Waverly's world. Impulsively, she leaned down and kissed her fiercely, smiling as Nicole's hands tangled themselves in her hair, pulling her closer.

Waverly broke away first, breathless and slightly dizzy. She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

“Handcuffing skills, huh?” She teased. “When you're feeling better, I might just let you demonstrate that for me.”

“Blech. Get a room, you two!”

Their private moment was interrupted by Wynonna standing in the doorway, making gagging noises.
“Technically, Wynonna, this IS my room,” Nicole said dryly.

Grinning broadly, Wynonna entered the room and lightly punched Nicole in the shoulder. Waverly just shook her head with a tolerant smile. She loved to watch Wynonna and Nicole tease each other. Teasing was her sister's way of letting people know that she liked them, and Nicole seemed to take it all in stride.

“Whatever, Haught,” Wynonna said. “Look, I'm glad you're okay, but you can corrupt my baby sister some other time. Just do it someplace where I don't have to hear it, huh? I still have nightmares from the last time I heard you two gettin’ all frisky.”

“Wynonna!” Waverly exclaimed, blushing furiously.

“What?” Wynonna asked innocently. “I'm kidding. Mostly.”

“For reals though,” she asked Nicole seriously. “How do you feel? Dolls and Nedley are outside. Want to ask you a few questions, if you're up to it.”

“I’m okay,” Nicole said. “I'm pretty damn tired and every muscle in my body aches, but I’m okay. Tell them they can come on in.”

Wynonna nodded and slung an arm around Waverly's waist. “Let's go, baby girl. I need Twizzlers and you need a decent cup of coffee. There's gotta be some in this hospital someplace.”

Now that she had Nicole back, Waverly was reluctant to leave her side. She hesitated, uncertain.

“Hey, it’s okay. Really.” Nicole gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I'll be fine. You should go get your coffee.”

“Okay. I won't be gone long.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Waverly kissed her again before allowing Wynonna to lead her from the room as Dolls and the sheriff entered. She cast a quick glance back over her shoulder to see the three law officers huddled together, talking quietly. A wave of relief washed over her again. Maybe now things could finally get back to normal. Or at least whatever passed for normal when your girlfriend was a cop with a penchant for putting herself in the line of fire, and your big sister was a demon-fighting superhero.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

The Earp Sisters wandered the halls, in search of caffeine and snacks. The snacks were easy. They found a vending machine in an alcove near the waiting room. Jeremy was asleep in a chair, huddled underneath his jacket. While Wynonna fought with the vending machine, Waverly paused to tuck the scientist’s jacket more firmly around his shoulders. He shifted in his seat and mumbled something that sounded like “Autobots roll out”, but he did not wake.

“Success!” Wynonna exclaimed triumphantly, holding up two packages of the red licorice.

“Shhhh! Don't wake him up!” Waverly admonished her as she looked down at Jeremy fondly. “He looks so cute when he’s sleeping.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Wynonna’s eye roll and her rude hand gestures. With a swat of her sister's arm, Waverly took one of the packages of candy and tore it open. Her stomach growled, loudly reminding her that she'd barely eaten in days. Twizzlers probably weren't the best option, but hey, what else was she supposed to eat in the hospital at 2 a.m.?

“Didn't you say something about coffee?” Waverly asked as she tore off a bite of licorice.

Wynonna grabbed her arm and dragged her down an empty hallway. They stopped outside a door marked “Doctor’s Lounge”.
“Okay, here's the plan,” Wynonna began in a conspiratorial whisper. “They're bound to have good coffee in there. So you go in and see if there's anyone around. If there's not, then we sneak in, liberate some mugs, and hightail it before anyone catches us.”

“That's stealing!” Waverly protested.

“It’s not stealing if we leave the mugs here when we're done with them,” Wynonna said with an exasperated sigh.

“Well, what if there IS someone in there?” Waverly demanded.

“Then you give them your best everybody-loves-Waverly smile and wave. Tell ‘em you got lost or something. Trust me, you could charm the pants off a police officer. Oh wait, you already did that!” Wynonna smirked at her.

Waverly ignored Wynonna's attempt to get a reaction from her and thought about her sister’s plan. She wasn't thrilled with it, but she really did want that cup of coffee. And technically, Wynonna was right. It wasn't stealing, exactly. More like borrowing without permission.

“Fine.” Waverly decided. “But you watch the door and make sure no one walks in on me.”

Carefully, Waverly pushed the door open a few inches and poked her head inside. The room was empty. She hurried over to a counter where a coffee pot and a collection of mugs beckoned to her.

“Dude, hurry up!” Wynonna hissed at her.

“I am hurrying!” Waverly shot back at her as she quickly filled two mugs.

In less than a minute, the Earp sisters were casually walking back down the hall, sipping coffee from their borrowed mugs. Waverly lowered her nose to her cup and inhaled deeply, savoring the heavenly aroma.

“Totally worth it, right?” Wynonna said.

“Oh, totally!” Waverly agreed.

They headed back to the intensive care unit and stopped outside Nicole's room. Dolls and Nedley were still inside, but judging from the light laughter, Waverly guessed that they were done with the official business.

“Can we come in?” She called out.

“Yeah, we’re done here,” Dolls replied.

Nicole's gaze met hers, and Waverly marveled at the way the redhead’s eyes lit up every time she walked into a room. She'd spent her entire life hoping that someone would see her, and then she'd met Nicole. Nicole, who devoured her with every look and made her feel like she was the was the only woman on Earth. The depth of her feelings was empowering, intoxicating and she had to admit, still a little bit scary.

“You're back.” Nicole smiled at her.
“Of course I'm back, silly. I told you I would be.” Waverly grinned back and kissed her cheek, careful not to spill any of the hot liquid in her hand.

Still standing in the doorway, Wynonna cleared her throat. “Well, if you and Officer Heart Eyes are gonna make smoochy faces at each other all night, then I’m gonna head back to the homestead where there's a soft bed and a bottle of whiskey calling my name.”

Waverly set her coffee down on the chair and hurried back to her sister, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Wynonna. For everything.” She whispered.

Wynonna kissed her forehead and whispered back. “You know I'd do anything for you, baby girl.”

“Glad you're not dead, Nicole,” Wynonna said, louder. “Dolls, walk me out?”

Dolls nodded. “Get some rest, Haught. We need you back on the team ASAP.”

“Well, I guess that's my cue to leave too,” Nedley spoke up, patting Nicole on the shoulder. “Don't you worry about Calamity Jane. That mongrel and I have an understanding.”

Much to Waverly’s surprise, the sheriff pulled her into an awkward hug. “You take care of my favorite deputy, Miss Earp. And you call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

The sheriff left, and then they were alone again. Nicole scooted over to one side of the narrow hospital bed and patted the sliver of empty space invitingly. Although she wanted nothing more than to climb into that bed and feel the weight of her girlfriend's arms wrapped securely around her, Waverly hesitated.

“Waves, please?” Nicole pleaded with her. “I...I need you.”

She didn't need to be asked again. Carefully, she slid into the bed. It was a tight fit, but she turned on her side, nestled her head against Nicole's chest and listened to the strong, steady rhythm of her girlfriend's heartbeat. Nicole's arms came up around her, pulling her closer, and Waverly felt the slight pressure of Nicole's chin resting on the top of her head. She sighed happily, draping her own arm around her girlfriend's midsection.

Nicole hissed in pain, and Waverly withdrew her arm immediately. She propped herself up on an elbow and saw the grimace on Nicole's face and the sweat glistening on her forehead.

“What's wrong?” Waverly asked, struggling to keep the panic from her voice.

Nicole gave her a wan smile. “Nothing. Just hurts a little.”

Waverly thought back to what the doctors had told them originally. In addition to being poisoned, Nicole was suffering from a couple of badly bruised ribs. Someone had kicked her.
Waverly felt a spark of anger. Nicole had been lying there, helpless and alone, and somebody had deliberately kicked her? Waverly’s thoughts turned to vengeance as she silently vowed to find the shit ticket responsible and inflict on him the kind of pain Nicole had felt. She would find him and she would make him pay. First though, she needed more information.

“Nicole?” Waverly said, at last. “What happened?”

Nicole sighed heavily. “I just went through all that with Dolls and Nedley,” she said. “Honestly, Waves. I don't know.”

Waverly listened quietly as Nicole recounted the events of that morning. It had been uneventful at first. She had woken up, gotten dressed, fed the cat. Just like any other morning. Then, she had heard a noise coming from her front porch, and when she opened the door, she had found the bouquet of lilies.

“I thought they were from you. I thought maybe you had forgiven me. That maybe I hadn't completely messed this up,” Nicole said miserably, and Waverly felt a pang of guilt before her girlfriend continued. “Waverly, I am so sorry I hid those DNA results from you. I had no right to do that.”

Waverly shook her head. “I don't want to talk about that right now. I think I understand why you did it, and yeah, we still need to have a conversation about it. But right now, I just want to focus on what happened to you.”

“I don't remember much else,” Nicole admitted. “I held the flowers up to my nose to smell them. It happened almost right away. First there was this burning sensation, like my insides were on fire. Then my legs gave out. I remember falling. I couldn't move, could barely even breathe. Just before I blacked out, I remember seeing boots and feeling a sharp pain in my side. That's it.”

Waverly considered Nicole's account of the attack and had to admit that there wasn't much to go on. She hoped Doc was having more success with the lead he was pursuing.

“What kind of boots?” She asked finally. “Work boots? Cowboy boots?”

“More like hiking boots. Brown leather. Looked new and kind of expensive.”

Waverly opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Nicole stopped her with a finger to her lips.

“Waverly, I will gladly answer any questions you have, but right now, I'm super tired. Could we maybe just sleep for a while?”

“Of course! God, I don't know what I was thinking! Of course you need your rest,” Waverly babbled, ashamed of herself for adding to Nicole's exhaustion. She started to disentangle herself from their embrace. “Maybe I should go. This can't be that comfortable for you.”

With a surprising show of strength, Nicole pulled her back down until Waverly was once again resting against her chest.

“Mmm. Nope. Just stay here like this. This is perfect,” she murmured into Waverly’s hair.

Waverly smiled and felt her body start to relax for the first time in days. She listened as Nicole’s breaths grew slower and deeper. Then, once she was satisfied that her girlfriend was sleeping peacefully, she closed her own eyes and joined her in slumber.

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

The first faint light of dawn had begun to turn the skies a pearly gray as Doc Holliday strode through the automatic doors of Northern Memorial Hospital. His phone was vibrating, so he removed it from his coat pocket and examined the message displayed on the screen. Consequently, his head was lowered when he nearly collided with a slender man in a dark hooded sweatshirt.

“My apologies, friend. I was not watching where I was going,” Doc called after the hastily retreating form.

The man did not acknowledge him in any way, and Doc frowned as he watched him hurry away. There was something about the hooded figure that he found unsettling, though he could not say why. Once the man was out of sight, Doc shrugged and returned his attention to his phone. The message from Rosita indicated that she had found a place to park in the massive concrete garage across the street. She would meet him at Officer Haught's hospital room.

Doc already knew that the antidote had been successful, and he was grateful that they had found a cure in time to save the young woman that he had come to call his friend. After all, he knew how important Nicole was to Waverly, and he loved Waverly like she was his own sister. Impulsively, he ducked into the gift shop, intent on purchasing an appropriate gift.

Flowers would be in poor taste, he decided, given the circumstances of the poisoning that had nearly cost the woman her life. Instead, he examined the rows of furry stuffed animals, considering each carefully before finally settling on a ginger-colored puppy with large friendly eyes that very much reminded him of the earnest young officer. His mustache quivered with amusement as he wondered if anyone else would notice the resemblance.

“Seriously?” Rosita Bustillos caught up with him as he waited for the elevator. She plucked the toy from his hand. “You're getting soft in your old age.”

“I merely wanted to show Miss Haught how pleased I am that she is recovering,” Doc said.

The elevator doors slid open, and they entered the car. Doc pressed the button that would convey them to the second floor.

“Well, now I look like an asshole because I didn't bring a gift,” Rosita complained.

“I'm sure your presence will be appreciated nonetheless,” Doc assured her, aware that Rosita was still insecure around the members of the Black Badge Division. “However, if you like, we can tell her the gift is from both of us.”

The elevator deposited them across from the ICU’s small waiting room where Jeremy was still snoring softly in his chair.

“Should we wake him up?” Rosita asked.

Doc shook his head. “Let the boy sleep.”

When they reached Nicole's hospital room, Doc paused at the side of the bed, surveying the sweet scene before him --- Waverly Earp, sound asleep in her girlfriend's arms. He hated to wake her, as he was aware of the toll that the last several days had taken on her. He had almost decided they should leave the toy dog and depart before disturbing either woman, when Waverly began to stir, peering at him with sleepy eyes.

“Doc!” She exclaimed, wincing at the loudness of her voice in the otherwise quiet room.

Waverly gingerly disentangled herself from the redheaded officer’s embrace. Doc braced himself as the young woman practically launched herself towards him, wrapping him in a fierce hug.

“Thank you, Doc,” she whispered against his chest. “If it weren't for you and Jeremy...”

“There, there, Waverly,” Doc rubbed her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “I'm just glad we could be of assistance. I am genuinely fond of both you and Miss Haught.”

“Nicole,” the redhead muttered from her bed. “I keep telling you to call me ‘Nicole’.”

Doc tipped his hat and smiled at her. “My apologies. I'm still not accustomed to addressing women in such a familiar way.”

“We didn't wake you up, did we?” Waverly asked.

“No, it's fine,” Nicole said, eyeing the stuffed animal in Rosita’s hand. “Is that for me?”

Rosita stepped forward and awkwardly handed her the puppy. “It's stupid. But it's from both of us.”

Nicole cradled the toy to her chest. “It's sweet,” she said sincerely. “Thank you.”

Doc cleared his throat gently. “Not to interrupt this truly heartwarming moment, but I was hoping to find Wynonna or Dolls.”

“Wynonna went back to the homestead to get some sleep,” Waverly supplied helpfully. “Dolls left with her, but I don't know where he went after that.”

“Probably the BBD offices,” Rosita said. “The guy practically lives there.”

Doc nodded in agreement. He realized, suddenly, that he had no idea where the taciturn deputy marshal resided when he was off-duty. In fact, he had his suspicions that Xavier Dolls was rarely off-duty at all. He also had a notion that Dolls was just as likely to be at the homestead with the eldest Earp, and he was surprised by how much the thought troubled him.

“Doc, what did you find out?” Waverly asked, forcing him out of his moment of introspection. “Jeremy said you might’ve found someone that knows something?”

The gunslinger exchanged a quick sideways glance with Rosita. They had discussed this inevitability during the drive back to Purgatory, as Doc knew the youngest Earp well enough to expect that she would demand answers. However, he also knew that the information he'd learned would do nothing to set Waverly's mind at ease. Quite the contrary, it would probably only serve to worry her further, an understandable reaction that Doc hoped to avoid for now. With that in mind, he and Rosita had decided to be as vague as possible when pressed for answers. What Waverly and Nicole didn't know, couldn't hurt them.

Doc sighed and cautiously launched into his tale. “As you already know, Jeremy and I paid a visit to a man who was reputed to be a collector of many foul and deadly poisons.”

He paused, tipping his hat towards Nicole. “It was there that we found the solution to Miss Hau--,” he caught himself and smiled affectionately. “I mean ‘Nicole’s’ predicament.”

Waverly and Nicole both listened in rapt attention as he continued. After careful questioning, Doc had led Joseph Quan to reveal that his grandson had visited unexpectedly during the prior week. Though he had insisted that his grandson could not possibly have been involved in such a malevolent plot, Quan had to admit that no one else had been to his home in weeks.

“The grandson. What's his name?” Nicole asked, frowning slightly.

“Brandon. Brandon Quan.” Doc answered, grateful for her interjection since it allowed him to avoid revealing any more of his conversation with the connoisseur of vile toxins.

Nicole shook her head in frustration. “Doesn't sound familiar at all.”

“You know what?” Rosita interceded smoothly. “Your job right now is to rest and get better. I know you think you're Supercop, but leave the investigating to the rest of us.”

Waverly shot her a grateful look. “She's right, baby.”

She took Nicole's hand, stroking it softly. “You almost died. I could've lost you, and I don't know what I would've done if...” Waverly’s voice trailed off and she took a long shuddering breath before continuing. “Now I just need you to rest and regain your strength so we can celebrate.”

“Celebrate?” Nicole echoed, scrunching up her face with that confused look that Waverly found so adorable. “What are we celebrating?”

“Us,” Waverly replied firmly. “Look, I know there's a lot we need to talk about. And we will. But first I think we need to celebrate the fact that you're alive. That you came back to me.”

“I'll always come back to you, Waves.” Nicole whispered, pressing Waverly's hand to her lips.

“Oh my God,” Rosita said, rolling her eyes in mock disgust. “Now I get why Wynonna gags every time she sees the two of you together. The sweetness really is a bit overwhelming.”

“Hey!” Waverly exclaimed, faintly indignant.

“No, seriously. A girl could fall into a sugar coma just from standing too close to you!”

“You know, Waves,” Nicole began hesitantly, ignoring the good-natured teasing. “You look like you could use a little rest too. Maybe you should go back to the homestead? Just for a while?”

“I think that sounds like a splendid idea,” Doc agreed.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Waverly asked, a bit stung by her girlfriend's suggestion.

“Never.” Nicole declared emphatically. “But, honestly? I think I'd rest easier if I knew you were taking care of yourself too.”

Waverly shook her head doubtfully. “I don't know, Nicole. I don't like the idea of leaving you here alone. Especially when we still don't know who tried to hurt you.”

“If it makes you feel better, I can stay here with Nicole.” Rosita spoke up. “Seriously, go. Take a nap. Grab a shower. Whatever. I'll keep an eye on Red until you get back.”

“A shower would be nice, I guess,” Waverly said wistfully.

Actually, a hot shower would be close to heaven after three days of lukewarm, furtive sponge baths in the hospital’s restroom. Plus, it would probably be a good idea for someone to check up on Wynonna before she drank all the whiskey in the house. Still, Waverly was reluctant to leave.

“Waverly, I'll be fine,” Nicole assured her. “Nobody’s gonna bother me. Not with a revenant for a bodyguard, right?” She cocked an eyebrow at Rosita.

“Right,” Rosita agreed, flashing the telltale glowing red eyes for an instant.

Finally, Waverly acquiesced. She would return to the Earp homestead long enough to shower, change her clothes and maybe grab a few hours of sleep.

“Then I'm coming straight back here,” Waverly insisted.

“Sounds like a plan,” Nicole concurred, stifling a weary yawn.

“Well, now that that's settled,” Doc said, looking up from a message on his phone. “Dolls has requested my presence at the office. Waverly, I can walk you out if you'd like.”

Waverly nodded. After giving Rosita strict instructions to watch over Nicole and to call her if there were any problems, she bent down and kissed the redhead soundly.

“Behave yourself while I'm gone. And try to get some sleep, okay?” Waverly said. “I'll be back before you know it.”

“I'll try not to miss you too much.” Nicole held up the toy puppy that Doc and Rosita had given her. “Rosita and Wild Bill Hickok, here, will keep me company.”

Waverly laughed fondly. She kissed Nicole again before allowing Doc to lead her away.

“Hey, Waves?” Nicole called out as she reached the door.

She paused, turning back to look at her girlfriend. Her eyes traced every inch of Nicole's face, committing every detail to memory.

“What, baby?” She asked.

“I love you,” Nicole said simply.

Waverly beamed. “I love you too.”

It was becoming surprisingly easy to say, she realized, and she inwardly scolded herself for taking so long to say it out loud. She made a vow to say it to Nicole at least once a day for the rest of their lives.

Then, she felt Doc’s hand at the small of her back, and he was propelling her out into the hall. They stopped at the waiting room and woke Jeremy, agreeing that Doc would drive the young man home before heading to the office.

Outside the hospital, the morning sun hung low in the sky, its brilliant rays bouncing off the fresh snow. Waverly shaded her eyes with her hand, squinting against the glare. With her other hand, she pulled her coat closed to ward off the bitingly cold air.

“I'm parked in the garage,” she said, pointing at the concrete structure across the street.

“As am I,” Doc said as they strolled briskly towards it.

Waverly could hear Jeremy's teeth chattering as he trailed a few steps behind them. Without a word, Doc removed his own coat and handed it to the young scientist.

“Oh, wow! Doc Holliday’s coat!” Jeremy wrapped the garment around his narrow shoulders. He sniffed the collar dreamily. “Gunpowder and smoke. And just a hint of musk.”

“Jeremy, please don't make me regret preventing you from catching your death out here,” Doc grumbled as they reached the garage.

“Sorry. Talking out loud again,” Jeremy apologized.

The trio reached Doc’s car first. Waverly pointed a few rows over where her own jeep waited.

“I'm just over there,” she said.

“I'll see you to your vehicle, then,” Doc said, taking a step forward.

Waverly shook her head with a smile. “Don’t be silly. It's right there.”

She hugged each man in turn, thanking them again for everything they'd done to save Nicole.

Doc watched as she continued towards her car, her footsteps echoing eerily in the emptiness of the structure. He waited until she was safely inside the vehicle before unlocking his own car doors and sliding inside. In his rearview mirror, he saw her drive past, waving at him with that open, welcoming smile of hers. He lifted a hand to wave back and waited until she was out of sight before starting his engine and pulling out of the garage and into the bright sunlight. Something hard and plastic crunched under his tires, and a strange sensation of foreboding washed over him, but Doc dismissed it as nonsense. He turned the steering wheel towards town and the Black Badge offices where Dolls was waiting for him.

Leaning back in his seat, he allowed himself a satisfied smirk. They had averted tragedy, saved Nicole and extracted information that might point them to her attacker. All in all, Doc decided, today had been an exceptionally fine day.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

The Ghost River County Municipal Offices were nearly deserted when Doc arrived at the sprawling brick complex. Most of the offices within would not be open for several hours yet, but there was always someone manning the front desk of the Purgatory Sheriff Department. Usually, it was Officer Haught, though Doc had to admit that he had rarely visited the sheriff at this ungodly hour. He nodded a greeting towards the young officer on duty and continued down the hall to the rooms commandeered by the Black Badge Division. Deputy Marshal Dolls looked up as he entered.

“You're here,” he acknowledged brusquely.

“As requested,” Doc replied, sweeping his hat off and bowing with an over-exaggerated flourish.

“Knock it off, Holliday. Did you bring me any actionable intelligence, or not?”

Doc bristled slightly at his colleague’s somewhat condescending tone. Dolls had a way of treating people as if he were everyone's superior, and Doc was in no mood for it today. He was tired, hungry, and most disturbingly of all, sober. A condition which he intended to rectify at his earliest possible convenience.

“Well, I don't know how intelligent it is, but I do possess information you might be interested to hear,” he replied stiffly.

Before he could go into further detail, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Doc spun towards the sound, one hand automatically going to the gun at his hip. He sensed, rather than saw, Dolls tensing his own muscles, readying for a fight. Judging from the silhouette against the frosted glass windowpane, their unexpected interloper was none other than the honorable sheriff of Purgatory, himself. Doc relaxed slightly and, again, sensed Dolls doing the same.

“Enter,” Dolls commanded.

At the invitation, Sheriff Randy Nedley opened the door with one hand while lifting a steaming mug to his lips with the other. He shut the door behind him and joined them at the conference table in the center of the room.

“I thought I saw you sneak back here, Holliday,” he said gruffly. “If you have info pertaining to the attack on Officer Haught, I’d sure like to hear it.”

Doc and Dolls both pinned him with identical, wordless stares, which the sheriff returned coolly. Finally, Dolls spoke.

“You sure you want to hear all this?” Dolls asked. “Just as a reminder, anything you’re privy to in these offices is classified, and revealing any of it to anyone will be considered treason.”

Nedley exhaled in a huff of irritation. He set his mug down carefully and gripped the edges of the table so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Leaning forward, he looked each of the other men squarely in the eye before responding.

“You know what, Agent Dolls? I've had about enough of your treason threats. Now, someone tried to murder my favorite deputy, and I take that pretty personally. So if you two knuckleheads think I'm not going to be part of this investigation, then you don't know Randy Nedley.”

Doc watched silently, both fascinated and amused by the standoff between the two lawmen. He had rarely seen anyone stand up to Dolls in such a fashion, other than the two Earp sisters, of course. Much to his surprise, the deputy marshal relented first.

Dolls held up his hands, attempting to placate the sheriff.

“Hold on, Nedley. I'm not trying to threaten you. I just want to give you the opportunity to walk away if you're not sure you want to be an active participant in this. Because once you're in, you're in.”

“I've been the sheriff in this town for thirty years. I've seen and heard things that would make most folks question their sanity at the bottom of a bottle, and I've mostly kept quiet because it was what people needed.”

Nedley paused and sipped from his mug again.

“But like I said before, this one’s personal. Count me in.”

Dolls nodded approvingly and spun one of the file folders on the table around to face Nedley. While the sheriff scanned its contents, Dolls recapped everything that they knew so far.

“As you know, Officer Haught was poisoned at her own home by an unknown individual who delivered flowers laced with a deadly toxin. BBD’s analysis showed that the substance was comprised of both natural and unnatural elements.” Dolls paused, checking Nedley’s reaction.

“Demonic poison. Got it. Keep going,” Nedley urged him to continue.

“Doc Holliday, with assistance from Agent Jeremy Chetri, managed to track down the location for a potential antidote at the residence of one, Joseph Quan.” Dolls tapped a photo in the file for emphasis.

He went on. “During their negotiation for the antidote, they discovered that Quan was also the source for the poison.”

“Though he denied his involvement most strenuously,” Doc interjected.

Nedley lifted the photo of the old man from the table and studied it. “I recognize him. Doesn't come into town much. Never pegged him as someone who had anything to do with all the paranormal stuff that goes on around here. He's an odd one, for sure, but I'd find it hard to believe that he had anything to do with this.”

“I don't believe that he did,” Doc agreed. “At least, not knowingly.”

As Dolls and Nedley listened intently, Doc revealed the rest of the information he had learned during his visit with Joseph Quan. Quan’s grandson, Brandon, had visited him the week prior, and according to the old man, his grandson only came around when he needed money.

“It seems the boy has a bit of a gambling problem,” Doc said. “And unfortunately, Lady Luck is rarely on his side.”

He continued with his tale. The elder Quan had thrown his grandson out of the house, refusing to finance his addiction any longer. Several hours later, he'd noticed that an antique cigar box and a few other knick-knacks were missing, including one from the room where he stored his collection of poisons. After Doc had pressed him further, Quan had admitted that Brandon had stolen other, more dangerous items, from him before. However, he had insisted that the boy had never stolen anything as deadly as The Scorpion’s Kiss.

“So you think Brandon Quan stole the poison and used it on Nicole?” Dolls asked.

“I do not,” Doc said. “I believe young Brandon stole the poison, yes. But I am almost certain he then sold it to whoever used it to attack Officer Haught.”

“And you're basing that on what, exactly?” Dolls raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Lady Luck can be a harsh mistress, and I, myself have run afoul of her charms on more than one occasion. Though I am loathe to admit it, there were times when I would have sold my own left ball just to get back in the game.”

Nedley coughed uncomfortably. “Well, okay then. I guess that sounds like a good enough reason for me.”

He continued thoughtfully. “I remember Brandon. He and his mom used to live here in town. They moved away five or six years ago when the boy was sixteen or so.”

“We definitely need to talk to him,” Dolls said. “Nedley, can you put out an APB on Brandon Quan? I want him brought in for questioning ASAP. Don't let on that its in connection with Nicole’s attack, though. I don't want any hero cop getting overzealous with my suspect before I've had a crack at him.”

Nedley nodded, already moving towards the door. “I'm on it. Where are you boys off to?”

Dolls and Doc exchanged a quick look. Both had done the requisite calculations in their heads and knew who they needed to talk to next.

“The Earp homestead,” Dolls replied. “According to my math, Brandon Quan would be about the same age as Waverly Earp. Maybe they knew each other. It's worth a try anyway.”

“Okay,” Nedley acknowledged. “I'll let you know when we have something.”

The sheriff left the Black Badge offices with Doc and Dolls following closely behind him. They parted company at the front desk as Nedley gathered his officers around him and began to relay instructions. The other two men continued out of the building, stopping in the small adjacent parking lot. Two choices confronted them: a sleek red sports car or a hulking black SUV.

With a wicked grin, Doc produced a coin from his pocket.

“How about we leave it up to chance? I’ll flip you for it.”

“Sorry, Holliday. This is official BBD business,” Dolls deadpanned as he yanked open the door to the SUV. “Get in.”

Twenty minutes later, they were rolling up the long driveway of the Earp homestead. As they exited the vehicle and climbed the porch steps, Doc noticed that Waverly's jeep was nowhere in sight, and he idly wondered if she had already returned to the hospital. A wistful smile tugged at his lips at the memory of Waverly and Nicole, curled up in each other's arms. The sound of Dolls pounding on the front door jolted him back to the present.

“Earp! You in there?” Dolls shouted.

When there was no answer, Dolls tried the door and found it unlocked. They entered the house cautiously and found Wynonna Earp sitting up sleepily from the sofa, a half empty whiskey bottle at her feet.

“What the hell, Dolls?” She groused, rubbing her hands across her face. “A girl needs her beauty sleep once in a while!”

She waved a hand down the front of her body. “All this hotness doesn't just appear by magic, you know?”

“We’re not here for your hotness right now, Earp,” Dolls told her, rolling his eyes.

“Well, good.” Wynonna shot back. “I wasn't in the mood for a three-way, anyway. Maybe later.”

“Actually, we’re here to speak with Waverly,” Doc said, delicately sidestepping the prickly demeanor of the eldest Earp. “Is she still here, or has she already returned to Miss Haught’s side?”

Wynonna gave him a confused look as she picked up the whiskey bottle and took a long swallow.

“Waverly? Waverly isn't here.” She frowned. “At least, I don't think she's here.”

She rose from her position on the couch and moved to the foot of the stairs, jostling the two men out of her way as she passed them.

“Waverly? You up there, baby girl?” She called out in the direction of her sister's bedroom.

They were met with nothing but an ominous silence that seemed to fill the entire house. Clearly agitated now, Wynonna stomped up the stairs with both men behind her.

“I swear to God, Waverly. If you're up here having naughty dreams about your girlfriend again, I’m gonna tickle you ‘til you pee yourself,” she muttered.

Wynonna pushed open the bedroom door. The room was empty and the bed did not appear to have been slept in. Doc could see the growing concern evident on Wynonna's face, and he placed his hands on her shoulders to reassure her.

“Don't fret, Wynonna. I'm sure she just went back to the hospital.”

She brushed his hands aside and rushed back downstairs. In the living room, she spun in a circle until she spotted her phone on the fireplace mantle. Grabbing it, she dialed her sister's number anxiously.

“Shit!” Wynonna exclaimed when the call went to voice mail. “Waverly, call me back!”

“Calm down, Earp,” Dolls attempted to pacify her as she paced back and forth, whiskey bottle swinging from her hand. “Doc’s probably right. She’s probably at the hospital with Nicole.”

Wynonna stopped pacing and whirled to face the men.

“No! She would never leave without checking in with me. You guys saw her room. She didn't change her clothes. Her bed hasn't been touched. She was never here.”

“Maybe she changed her mind and turned back before she ever arrived here,” Doc said reasonably, though he was beginning to feel worry gnawing at his own insides.

He pulled out his phone. “We left Rosita at the hospital to look after Officer Haught. Let me just ask her if your wayward sister is there.”

He quickly composed and sent a message. No more than a few seconds later, the answer came, and Doc felt the blood draining from his face as he stared at the screen. Looking up, he met Wynonna’s gaze with guilty eyes.

Wynonna yanked the phone from his hand and read the displayed message.

“Goddamnit!” She screamed, flinging the whiskey bottle away and smashing it against the wall.

Doc watched the brown liquid drip slowly down the surface of the wall. A queasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as his mind replayed the image of Rosita’s message.

She’s not here. Last time I saw her was when she left with you.

His heart sank as the meaning of those words reverberated through his brain. Waverly Earp was missing, and he had been the last person to see her before she disappeared.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

The same scene played over and over again in Waverly's mind, the images clear as crystals and equally as sharp around the edges. She had smiled and waved at Doc and Jeremy as she drove past them, on her way home to grab a few much-needed hours of rest. Her spirits had been soaring. Nicole was awake and seemed to be recovering from her near-fatal ordeal, and Waverly had promised her girlfriend a celebration.

She'd been distracted, planning the future festivities, when she had turned a corner, heading towards the exit of the hospital’s parking garage. As a result, she hadn't heard the rustle of movement, hadn't sensed the presence behind her, hadn't noticed that anything at all was amiss until the moment it happened.

She had nearly reached the exit, the brightly-lit street stretching tantalizing before her, when a hooded figure suddenly rose from her backseat. She started to step on the brakes, but her scream died in her throat as a thin but wiry arm encircled her shoulders and pressed the cold steel of a knife against the tender skin at the base of her neck. The blinding early morning sun glinted off a pair of glasses, obscuring the man’s eyes, but Waverly instantly knew his identity as soon as he spoke.

“Hello, Waverly,” he had whispered in a voice that was flat and utterly devoid of emotion. “Don't say a word. Just do what you're told, and I won't have to hurt you.”

“Tucker,” she gasped.

The edge of the blade stung her neck as Tucker Gardner tightened his grip, causing Waverly to inhale sharply. Her hand flew to the shallow wound, staining her fingertips with blood.

“Look what you made me do,” he admonished her in his odd monotone, his lips so close to her ear that she could feel his hot breath. “I said no talking. You have to learn to listen, Waverly. We can work on that. Now just drive.”

Just before they left the concrete garage, Tucker had instructed her to throw her phone out the window, and Waverly had complied. She'd followed his directions, driving them to the outskirts of town. At his insistence, she'd pulled off to the side of the two-lane highway behind an apparently empty delivery van, and she realized that they were switching vehicles.

Her first thought was of Nicole. What would Nicole think when she found out? What would she think when they found her jeep, abandoned? She imagined Nicole would feel very much like she had felt when she had discovered her girlfriend dying on the floor of her home, and it broke her heart to think of Nicole experiencing that kind of terror.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel, and Waverly could feel her breaths coming in short gasps. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to force herself to stay calm. What would Wynonna do? That was the mantra that she kept repeating. Wynonna would scratch, claw and fight with everything she had, Waverly realized. But she wasn't Wynonna. She didn't have the supernatural strength or agility that came with being the Earp heir. She was just Waverly.

She felt the pressure of the knife at her throat slacken for an instant, and she had almost decided to leap from the vehicle and run. Then, Tucker had clamped a cloyingly sweet-smelling cloth over her mouth and nose. Soon, her world had faded to black.

As she slowly drifted back to consciousness, Waverly felt like she was drowning, struggling to break the surface of the water above her. Where am I? What happened? Confusion swirled in her mind until she remembered---a memory that turned her blood to ice in her veins. Tucker.

Her eyes flew open and she saw nothing. Gradually, Waverly realized that she was tied to a chair in a pitch black room that smelled of dust and damp wood. The darkness was disorienting and her head pounded. Cautiously, she tested the strength of her bonds. Tight. Too tight, she thought as she wriggled against the rough rope that was cutting into her wrists.

Somewhere behind her, a door opened, casting a shaft of faint light into the room. Quickly, she scanned her surroundings, looking for anything that might help her escape. She was in some kind of root cellar, she surmised. There were no windows, a dirt floor and absolutely nothing that could be of any use to her. Footsteps sounded on stairs, and Waverly craned her neck, trying to see her abductor. Again, she strained against the ropes, ignoring the pain as the fibers rubbed her skin raw.

“You should stop that,” Tucker said as he stayed maddeningly out of view. “You're just going to hurt yourself, and I don't want to hurt you, Waverly. I would never hurt you.”

“You already hurt me, you shit ticket!” Waverly called over her shoulder, channeling her sister and hoping she sounded tougher than she felt.

Tucker moved into her peripheral vision.

“You shouldn't talk like that. It makes you sound cheap and common. Like a whore. That's your sister's influence. I can help you with that.”

As he spoke, he kept moving until he was standing directly in front of her. His expression was calm, curious, like a scientist observing a lab rat. Waverly glared up at him, defiance blazing in her eyes.

“Screw you, Tucker!” She spat at him.

In an instant, his face darkened. Quick as a flash of lightning, the back of his hand struck her cheek with a loud smack that startled them both. Waverly cried out at the blow, tears springing to her eyes, and she tasted blood where she had bitten her lip.

Tucker was breathing hard, his nostrils flaring, as he attempted to regain his composure. His hands were balled into fists at his sides.

“I'm sorry, Waverly,” he said, finally gaining control of himself. “I really don't want to hurt you, but you have to learn to follow directions.”

Fear seized her as Waverly looked up at him, but she did her best to put on a brave face.

“When Wynonna finds you, you are so going to regret ever laying a hand on me,” she whispered.

Tucker smiled then, a soulless grin that twisted his face into a death mask.

“Oh, I hope she does. We’ll never be free unless I get rid of her for you.”

He leaned forward until their faces were mere inches apart, and Waverly recoiled from him as far as she could.

“I hope your ginger butch cop comes too, so I can finish what I started.”

Waverly sucked in a horrified breath as she realized what he had done. Tucker. Tucker had poisoned Nicole. And he had done it because of her. Nicole had nearly died. Because of her.

Tucker was still talking.

“They're bad for you, Waverly. Both of them. You're broken because of them,” he paused. “But I can fix you. I can help you become the girl you were always supposed to be. The girl that I can love.”

His words sent a shudder down Waverly's spine. Tucker had always seemed fascinated by her, even when they were children. He'd asked her to the prom in high school, and she'd tried to let him down gently. She'd even prevented Champ from “teaching that little freak a lesson,” as he had put it. But she hadn't known the depths of Tucker’s obsession. She hadn't known how dangerous he would become. She hadn't known.

Tucker took a step backwards.

“I'm going to give you some time to think,” he said as he walked away and ascended the stairs. “You can scream if you want. No one will hear you.”

The door to the cellar closed with a soft thud, plunging her into darkness once more. Alone in the blackness, with Tucker’s words echoing in her ears, Waverly's tears began to fall in earnest.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9

With a deafening crack, a bullet pierced the ceiling, sending dust and plaster cascading down on the two men standing below. Momentarily shocked into forgetting the argument that had broken out between them, Doc Holliday and Xavier Dolls stared open-mouthed at the angry woman in front of them.

“Everybody shut the hell up!” Wynonna commanded. “My sister is missing and we so do not have time for your manly bullshit! After we find Waverly, I'll get the measuring tape and you two can compare sizes, once and for all.”

“Earp,” Dolls began.

“Don't ‘Earp’ me right now, Dolls,” she interrupted him as she tucked Peacemaker’s barrel into her belt.

She pressed her fingers to her eyes and massaged them, trying to clear her mind from the sleep and the whiskey. Waverly was missing, and she needed to focus. God, I need a drink, she thought before angrily pushing that idea away. There would be no time for drinking until her sister was safe.

Opening her eyes, she addressed the gunslinger first.

“You last saw her at the hospital, right?”

“In the parking garage,” Doc confirmed.

“So you left Nicole's room, walked Waverly to her car, and then what?” Wynonna asked, trying to get a mental picture of the timeline.

Doc hesitated uncomfortably before answering. He cleared his throat softly.

“Actually, we parted company at my vehicle. I did not, in fact, escort her all the way to hers.”

Wynonna’s eyes widened at his admission, and she felt her rage beginning to boil over.

“Am I getting this right? Waverly basically walked you to your car?” Wynonna laughed harshly. “Wow. That must've made you feel so safe.”

Doc’s face fell and his gaze dropped to the tips of his boots.

“I am sorry, Wynonna,” he whispered. “If I had known...”

“You know what, Henry? I really don't want to hear it right now,” she said, turning away from him.

She knew she had wounded him deeply, but in that moment, she didn't care. Doc’s precious feelings didn't matter. Her own feelings didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was Waverly.

Wynonna focused her attention on Dolls instead.

“Okay, here's what we're gonna do,” she said, laying out the plan. “The last place anyone saw Waverly was at the hospital, right? Then that's where we’re going. Everybody saddle up or whatever.”

She had grabbed her leather jacket from the spot where it was draped across the banister, sliding her arms into the sleeves as she spoke. Before either man could react, Wynonna was out the front door and halfway to her truck, making it clear that the Earp heir was on a mission.

“Are you assholes coming, or not?” Wynonna called over shoulder when she realized that neither man had moved.

Prompted into action, they followed her out of the house and joined her in the driveway. Wynonna was already sitting in the cab of her truck, waiting impatiently.

Dolls rested his hand on the doorframe.

“You're taking your own vehicle?”

“We might need to split up at some point,” she explained and cast a pointed scowl in Doc’s direction. “Besides, I think I really need a few minutes alone.”

“Go easy on him, Earp,” Dolls advised. “It's not his fault.”

Wynonna could barely contain her fury, and she glared at Dolls in a way that made him back away slowly.

“Never mind,” he said, holding his hands up in front of him. “Forget I said anything. We’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Wynonna slammed her door and started the truck’s engine. Her tires squealed and spun for a few seconds before finding traction against the snow. Without another word or a single look back, she sped away from the homestead, gunning the engine as she raced towards town.

Hang on, baby girl, she thought. I'm coming for you. And when I find the asshole that took you? Her eyes narrowed as she imagined looking down Peacemaker’s barrel at whoever or whatever was responsible for this nightmare. When I find him, there's gonna be hell to pay.

By pushing her truck’s accelerator to the floor and treating the speed limit as more of a suggestion than a rule, Wynonna arrived at the hospital in slightly under twenty minutes. She pulled to a stop just inside the entrance to the garage and hopped out of the cab. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a uniformed security guard emerge from a small cubicle.

“You can't park there, miss,” he said in a bored and officious tone.

Without even looking at him, Wynonna yanked her badge from her back pocket and shoved it in his face.

“Black Badge, asshole. I'll park wherever I goddamn want.”

“I don't care who you are! You still can't park here. Hospital policy.” The guard folded his arms across his puffed out chest, regarding her smugly.

Wynonna whirled to face him then, and she stepped forward until they were practically nose to nose. With satisfaction, she smirked at the sudden fear and uncertainty she saw looming in the man’s eyes.

“Do I look like I give two shits about your hospital policy?” She asked, her voice low and threatening.

When the guard swallowed hard and took an involuntary step backwards, Wynonna knew she had won. She raised her hand and waved her fingers at him.

“Now get lost. Before I have you arrested for treason,” she ordered, using Dolls’ standard warning for good measure.

With a sullen glare, the security guard slunk away, sputtering a complaint into the radio clipped to his shoulder. Even after he'd returned to his post, Wynonna continued to stare daggers at him until she heard her boss’ SUV behind her.

“You ever heard of traffic laws, Earp?” Dolls asked disapprovingly.

Wynonna simply extended her middle finger without a word, and Dolls sighed in defeat. He nudged Doc with his elbow.

“Alright, Holliday. Which way are we going?”

Doc’s eyes were downcast and partially hidden beneath the brim of his hat, and he refused to meet Wynonna's gaze. He gestured towards the interior of the garage and began to walk in that direction. He could feel the eldest Earp’s eyes drilling a hole into his back, but after a moment he heard footsteps behind him and knew they were following.

Wynonna barely acknowledged Dolls as he fell into step beside her. All she could think was that she had failed Waverly. After Willa’s death, Wynonna had made it her mission to make sure that the only sister she had left would always be safe. Now her baby sister was probably missing, and she had failed to protect her family. Again.

She was so lost in her own misery that she nearly crashed into Doc’s back when he stopped abruptly in front of her.

“What the hell, Doc?”

Doc pointed at a parking space currently occupied by an ancient-looking flatbed truck.

“This is where I was parked,” he said quietly.

He gestured towards another space a few rows over.

“Your sister's vehicle was over there.”

“I know that,” Wynonna snapped at him. “I drove her damn jeep here myself. I think I know where I parked it.”

In truth, Wynonna had no idea where she had left Waverly's jeep. Everything had been so chaotic, and she'd been tired and slightly hungover when she'd retrieved the jeep from Nicole's house. But there was no way in hell she was going to admit that to Doc now.

“You're supposed to be the world’s greatest tracker right?” She asked him instead. “So start tracking.”

Doc sighed and shook his head doubtfully. “Tracking a man on horseback through the woods is one thing. Tracking a vehicle across all this damned concrete is something else entirely.”

“Okay, well, we know she went that way, right?” Dolls took charge for a moment, pointing towards the exit. “Doc, you head for the exit and look for anything out of the ordinary. Tire marks, broken glass, anything. Wynonna and I are gonna check out the spot where Waverly was parked. Maybe there's something there.”

Doc nodded and tilted his hat further back on his head as he walked away, searching the ground as he went. Silently, Wynonna watched him go. He looked miserable. Good, she thought irrationally. He was supposed to look out for her sister whenever she couldn't do it herself. And as far as Wynonna was concerned, John Henry Holliday had failed them both.

Muttering darkly to herself, she caught up with Dolls, who was flat on his stomach, peering beneath the nearby vehicles.

“Anything?” Wynonna asked him.

“Nothing,” he replied grimly as he climbed to his feet.

“Fan-freakin’-tastic. Now what?” Wynonna began to pace, feeling her anxiety level rising again. “Dolls, my sister is out there somewhere, and we have no fucking clue where to look!”

“Calm down, Wynonna. Panicking isn't going to get us anywhere,” Dolls said in that insanely reasonable tone that she found so irritating. “Besides, we don't have confirmation of anything yet.”

“Did you even hear what I said? Waverly. Is. Missing.”

Wynonna broke off from her impending tirade when she noticed Dolls scanning the ceiling. She followed his gaze upward, annoyed.

“What the hell are you even looking at?”

With a short triumphant laugh, Dolls pointed when he found what he was searching for.

“Security cameras,” he said. “We need to collect all the footage between here and the exit. This is good news, Earp. There’s bound to be something useful on one of these cameras.”

Wynonna begrudgingly agreed. “Fine. But I should probably tell you that the security guard back there might not like me very much. I may have threatened to charge him with treason. Or something like that.”

Dolls rolled his eyes. “Fine. I'll handle the guard. Now let's go see if Doc found anything,”

Wynonna was beginning to feel the faintest glimmer of hope as she and Dolls headed towards the exit to the garage. She was sure that her boss was right and they would find answers on the video. And maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Waverly had just been too tired to drive all the way back to the homestead. Maybe she had just stopped off somewhere to catch a few winks.

Her attempt at optimism dissolved as soon as she caught sight of Doc. He was kneeling near the exit and cupping something in his hands. He straightened as they approached.

Wynonna broke into a run, skidding to a stop in front of him. Dread knotted her insides as she looked down at the broken pieces of plastic in Doc’s hands. It was the remnants Waverly's phone, dotted with rust-colored droplets that she knew were dried blood. In that moment, Wynonna knew the truth of the situation. Waverly wasn't just missing. She had been taken.

“Shit,” Dolls breathed, speaking for all of them.

Wynonna shoved her own fear aside. She had no time for it. Her sister had been kidnapped, and the clock was ticking.

“Dolls, take the phone and the camera video back to the office,” she ordered. “Get Jeremy and start going through everything.”

“On it,” Dolls said as he took the pieces of the phone from Doc and slid them into a plastic evidence bag.

“What can I do?” Doc asked.

Wynonna channeled all of her anger into the look she gave him.

“Oh, I'd say you've done enough already,” she snarled.

“Wynonna, that is not fair.” Doc defended himself, trembling with scarcely concealed outrage. “You, of all people, know that I love your sister as if she were my own family.”

Wynonna strode forward and jabbed her finger into his chest.

“You were supposed to be looking out for her! Instead, you sat back and let some asshole take her away!”

Doc grabbed her wrist and leaned in closer.

“I did not ‘let’ anyone do anything. I would never let anyone hurt Waverly. And after all, I am not the one who left her alone at the hospital to begin with. I believe that was her own loving sister.”

Wynonna yanked her arm free from his grasp and slapped him, the sound echoing against the cement walls of the garage.

“Fuck you, Henry,” she managed to say between clenched teeth. “You wanna know what you can do? Try getting the hell out of my sight!”

They stared at each for a long, tense moment before Doc reached up to rub at the reddening handprint on his cheek. Finally, wilting under the white-hot fury radiating from Wynonna, he turned his back and stiffly walked away.

“Wynonna, you know we're probably gonna need him eventually, right?” Dolls reminded her.

“I'll deal with him later,” she conceded. “Why are you still here? Go analyze shit. Find me something I can use.”

Dolls nodded. “I'm going. What are you gonna do?”

Wynonna sighed and scrubbed at her face with her hands.

“The thing I was really hoping to avoid,” she said sadly. “Somebody has to go tell Nicole, and I guess that's me. Waverly would want it to be me.”

Wynonna left Dolls standing in the parking structure. She jammed her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket as she purposefully made her way towards the hospital.

It was a clear day, but bitterly cold, and her thoughts turned to Waverly. Her sister hated the cold, and Wynonna hoped that wherever she was, she was warm enough. Tears filled her eyes and she wiped them away angrily.

Hold it together, Earp, she told herself. You can't fall apart now. Waverly needs you to hold it together. Nicole's gonna need you to hold it together.

Wynonna stopped in her tracks, the realization of what she was about to do dawning on her. For at least the third time today, she felt like she'd been punched in the gut.

Jesus. Nicole. What the hell am I gonna say to Nicole? How do you tell your sister's girlfriend that the woman she loves has been kidnapped?

She was still searching for an answer to those questions as she pushed open the door to the redhead’s room. Nicole was sitting up in bed, smiling at her expectantly, obviously hoping that Waverly was with her.

Wynonna took a slow, shaky breath.

“Hey, Nicole. I, uh, I have some bad news.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

Nicole looked up hopefully as the door to her hospital room swung open. It had only been a few hours since Waverly had left, and she had been the one to talk her into leaving, but she was forced to admit that she missed her girlfriend terribly. When Wynonna appeared in the doorway instead, Nicole's smile vanished and her forehead instantly creased with worry.

“Hey, Nicole. I, uh, I have some bad news.”

“Waverly?” Nicole asked, though she already knew the answer before Wynonna’s little nod of confirmation.

A hundred different scenarios flashed through Nicole’s mind, each worse than the last. Sudden illness. Car accident. Demonic possession, again. She took a deep breath to steady herself as Wynonna crossed the room to sit at the edge of her bed. Nicole sensed the older woman's hesitation.

“Just tell me, Wynonna.”

“Waverly's missing,” Wynonna blurted out. “It, uh...it looks like she's been taken.”

Nicole was silent as she tried to process the information. In the background, she heard Rosita bombarding Wynonna with questions, but she couldn't focus on any of it.

Taken? Waverly’s been taken? Hey, wasn't that the name of that ridiculous movie we watched together a few weeks ago? The one where the guy’s daughter was, well, taken?

Nicole let out a short laugh in spite of herself. “Maybe we should call Liam Neeson.”

“Excuse me?” Wynonna asked, startled and confused.

“Nothing. Sorry,” Nicole mumbled as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “I'm having a little trouble wrapping my head around this.”

“Yeah. Join the club, Haught,” Wynonna said.

Nicole exhaled slowly as she gathered up all her warring emotions and buried them down deep inside herself. Getting hysterical would help no one. Waverly needed her to do her job, and to do that, she needed a clear head.

“Okay, what have you got?” She asked, switching into cop-mode.

She listened intently as Wynonna laid out the situation. No one had seen or heard from Waverly since she had left the hospital. Nicole glanced up at the clock on the wall. Three and a half hours. She's been gone for three and a half hours. Normally, the sheriff’s department wouldn't file a report until someone had been gone for at least 24 hours, but in this case, Nicole was sure that Nedley would make an exception.

“There's something else, right?” Rosita spoke up suddenly. “There's gotta be. No way you get this spun out just because little sis hasn't checked in lately.”

Nicole could see the angry retort forming on Wynonna’s lips, and she interceded before the tension increased between the eldest Earp sister and Shorty’s newest bartender.

“Is there something else, Wynonna?” She prompted.

“We found her phone in the parking garage. It's busted all to hell. Looks like someone ran over it.”

Wynonna chewed her bottom lip nervously and refused to make eye contact. Nicole had always been good at reading people. In fact, Nedley had said it was one of her greatest assets as a cop. Now, she was sure that Wynonna was keeping something from her, and she was torn between demanding the full story or letting Wynonna keep her secret.

Never spook the witness. That was the lesson she'd learned from one of her favorite instructors at the academy. Lend a sympathetic ear, and more often than not, witnesses would tell everything eventually. It was a tactic that had always worked well for Nicole, so she waited patiently for Wynonna to continue. When her girlfriend's sister remained stubbornly silent, she sighed inwardly and tried a different angle.

“Are you sure Waverly didn't just drop her phone accidentally? Maybe it fell out of her pocket and she doesn't even know gone,” she suggested gently.

Wynonna shook her head. “I wish that was the case, Nicole. But Doc found it by the garage exit. Only way it could've gotten there is if somebody tossed it.”

“Doc’s with you? Where is he now?” Rosita asked. “Why didn't he come up with you?”

“No idea where he is,” Wynonna replied coldly.

“Seriously?” Rosita asked incredulously. “Did it even occur to you that he might be taking this almost as hard as you?”

“Not my problem right now, Rosita.”

“Really, Wynonna? Your compassion level is just first rate. Truly special.” Rosita turned towards Nicole. “I should call him. I'll just be out in the hall for a few, okay?”

She exited the room, leaving Wynonna and Nicole alone.

“My compassion?” Wynonna burst out as soon as the door was closed. “She’s got the balls to ask about my compassion? Did I miss the part where she showed any concern about my sister?”

Nicole closed her eyes, fighting off her weariness and her rapidly building headache. She really wasn't in the mood to play referee.

“Forget about Rosita for a minute, okay? I need you to focus on Waverly. Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

“Some revenant asshole is using my sister to try to get to me. And when I find him, I might just have a little fun before I send him screaming back to Hell.”

“What makes you so sure it's a revenant?”

“Because it's always revenants! Thanks to Wyatt and the curse, Waverly will always be in danger until I send all 77 revenants back to Hell!”

Nicole tilted her head to one side, considering Wynonna’s assertion. She had to admit that where the Earps were concerned, revenants and other demonic entities were always a possibility. And Waverly had been abducted by revenants once before. This time, though, all of her instincts told her something different.

“I don't know, Wynonna,” Nicole began cautiously. “Maybe this time it's something or someone else.”

“Like who?” Wynonna asked, baffled. “Who else would want to screw with me like this?”

“Dammit, Wynonna! Not everything's about you!” Nicole exploded. “Or has that ever even occurred to you?”

Wynonna blinked, startled by the force of Nicole's temper.

“I didn't say that,” she said defensively.

“Didn't you?” Nicole had lost her patience. “Look, I know you think that this happened because of you, but we need to concentrate on Waverly. I mean, someone tried to kill me, and now Waverly's missing. Don't you think there might be a connection there?”

Wynonna shrugged. “Who would want to hurt you and Waverly? You guys are like characters out of a romance novel.”

Nicole threw up her hands in exasperation. “I don't know. Champ, maybe?”

Wynonna snorted. “You've met Champ, right? Does he seem like a criminal mastermind to you?”

“No,” Nicole admitted. Champ was an immature, homophobic jerk, but he didn't seem capable of anything like this. “I'm just saying that this seems awfully personal. Isn't there anyone you can think of who might have a grudge against your sister?”

Wynonna thought about it for all of five seconds before shaking her head impatiently.

“I've got nothing,” she said. “As far as I know, everybody loves Waverly. You and the rest of the flatfoots can look into that if you want. I'm gonna go crack some revenant skulls together. See what falls out.”

Nicole gave up on trying to get Wynonna to see things her way. She tossed the sheet covering her lower body aside and started fumbling with her IV.

“Whoa! Hold up there, Haughtstuff!” Wynonna exclaimed, grabbing Nicole’s arm. “Where the hell do you think you're going?”

Determined, Nicole set her jaw and looked up at Wynonna defiantly.

“If you thought I was just gonna sit here while...”

Wynonna's grip on her loosened and her eyes softened.

“Nicole, I can't let you leave here. You and I both know Waverly would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”

All of Nicole's pent-up frustration and fear washed over her. The thought of Waverly alone and scared was more than she could bear. Unshed tears burned her eyes, and every muscle in her body began to tremble from the strain of holding back her emotions. The back of her throat constricted until she was barely able to choke out words.

“I can't lose her, Wynonna.”

“Nobody's losing anyone,” Wynonna said firmly. “I'll bring her home, Haught. I swear.”

Rosita reentered the room then, preventing Nicole from replying.

“If you're gonna shake the trees for revenants, then I should go with you,” she said to Wynonna.

“What?” She asked when both the Earp heir and the sheriff’s deputy stared at her. “I overhead you. You guys aren't exactly discreet.”

“And why, exactly, would I take you with me?” Wynonna asked skeptically.

“Easy. One: I know where they hang out. I'm guessing you don't.” Rosita ticked her reasons off on her fingers. “Two: you'll have better luck getting information from them if I ask the actual questions. You go in with Peacemaker glowing? That'll just make them nervous and ornery. And three: I like Waverly. I want to help.”

“Fine.” Wynonna agreed after a moment's thought. “But I'm in charge.”

“Whatever,” Rosita said agreeably.

“And what am I supposed to do? Sit here and do nothing?” Nicole demanded. “You really think I’m gonna do that?”

Wynonna eyed her thoughtfully. “No, I guess not. Which is why I'm gonna call Nedley and have him send someone over to keep an eye on you. You just have to sit tight until then.”

Nicole bristled at the suggestion.

“I don't need a damn babysitter, Wynonna!”

“Yeah, actually, I’m pretty sure that you do,” Wynonna countered. “Otherwise, you'll do something incredibly brave and equally as stupid, and my sister will kick my ass for it.”

Surprising Nicole, Wynonna leaned down and pulled her into a rough hug before releasing her abruptly and heading for the door.

“Come on, Revvy McRevenant. Let's go talk to your tribe.”

“Okay, first of all, they're not my tribe,” Rosita said as she followed Wynonna to the door. “And second, never call me that again.”

After the two women left, Nicole was alone in her room. She looked at the clock and did some mental calculations, figuring that she had about ten minutes before her bodyguard/babysitter showed up. She needed a plan and she needed it fast.

Nicole heard the officer assigned to protect her before she saw him. She rolled her eyes, listening as Officer Matt Clark flirted shamelessly with one of the nurses in the hall. Clark was a year or two older than her, Nicole guessed, though she didn't know him well enough to be certain of his age.

Until her arrival in Purgatory, he had been the low man on the totem pole at the Sheriff’s station, and he reminded her of his increased seniority as often as he could. Being assigned to babysit her probably pissed him off, and Nicole noted with a satisfied smirk, that having him here made her escape plan easier.

Clark’s booming voice drew nearer, and Nicole realized he was right outside her door. Hurriedly, she put the first part of her scheme into motion, slouching down in the bed and letting her eyelids droop.

“Hey there, kid!” Clark greeted her loudly. “Heard you're still not feeling so Haught!”

Nicole groaned inwardly as her fellow officer laughed at his own joke. She faked a yawn and gave him a weak smile.

“Hi, Matt. Sorry you got stuck here looking after me. I'm sure you'd much rather be doing something more important.”

He shrugged nonchalantly, but from the slight frown that tugged at the corners of his mouth, Nicole could tell she had hit a nerve. He recovered quickly, casting a broad grin in her direction.

“No worries. Nedley’s got everyone out on a wild goose chase anyway. Much rather be here chasing this fine nursing staff.”

He wagged his eyebrows suggestively, and Nicole nearly gagged.

“Besides, who's better at protecting and serving than me?” Officer Clark bragged, rubbing his knuckles against the badge on his chest.

This was going to be so easy, Nicole thought as she moved into phase two of Operation Get-Me-The-Hell-Out-Of-Here. Feigning weakness, she struggled to sit up, knocking one of her pillows to the floor in the process.

“Shit,” she groaned. “I still feel so out of it.”

“Don't worry, darlin’. You just let your buddy Matt take care of everything.”

He sauntered over to her, and as he bent down to retrieve her pillow, Nicole grabbed a heavy crystal vase of flowers from her bedside table and smashed it over his head. Crying out once in surprise, he crumpled to the floor. For a fleeting moment, she worried that she had hit him too hard and she leaned over the edge of the bed to verify that he was still breathing.

Working quickly and keeping one eye on the door, Nicole disconnected her IV and heart rate monitor, switching the machines off before they could alert anyone. She slid out of bed, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold floor. Her legs were shaky, but they held.

“Sorry, Matt,” she murmured as she began stripping the unconscious officer.

Good thing I'm tall enough to pull this off, she thought, hurriedly dressing herself. The boots were at least two sizes too big so she cinched the laces as tight as she could to keep them from falling off. She buckled the utility belt into place and patted her pockets to ensure that she had the keys to the officer’s cruiser. As an afterthought, she scooped up her colleague’s white Stetson and settled it firmly on her own head.

Moving to the door, she peeked out into the hall to make sure it was clear. The nurse at the desk had her back turned, and Nicole used the opportunity to slip past unnoticed. Her legs were decidedly weak and unsteady, but sheer determination kept her going until she was outside the hospital and climbing behind the wheel of the sheriff’s department cruiser. Nicole leaned her head back, eyes closed.

“Okay, Waves,” she breathed as she started the car. “Talk to me, baby. Where are you?”

Nicole opened her eyes and pulled away from the curb, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove. Soon, she reached a crossroads. Turning left would take her back towards Purgatory. The right fork led further away from town towards a remote area where there was nothing but wilderness for miles.

She bit her bottom lip, momentarily paralyzed by indecision. The rational choice would be to head for town and she almost followed that logic. Suddenly, though she couldn't explain it, she felt a strong urge to turn right. It was almost as if Waverly were calling to her. Nicole surrendered to the strange pull, casting all rational thought aside, and turned right.

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

It was cold. Bone-chilling, teeth-chattering cold, and to make matters worse, she desperately needed to pee. Waverly pulled against her bonds again until she felt her wrists grow slick with blood. Frustrated and exhausted, she fell still. How long had she been down here in the dark? A few hours? A day? She had no concept of time anymore.

Down here in the dark, all she had time to do was think. She wondered if she'd been missed yet and if everyone was worried about her. Wynonna would be crazy mad and probably tearing apart all of Purgatory looking for her. She hoped Doc and Dolls were there to keep her sister from completely going overboard. Waverly really hoped that Doc wasn't beating himself up too much, knowing that the gunslinger would blame himself for her current situation.

Mostly though, Waverly's thoughts revolved around a certain sheriff’s deputy. The images were so clear as they played on a loop in her mind. Nicole, openly flirting with her at Shorty’s the first time they met. Her awestruck, wondrous grin as she'd gazed up from Nedley’s couch when Waverly had seized the day and finally kissed her. The night of Bobo Del Rey’s party, wearing a purple evening dress that draped and somehow accentuated every curve. She hadn't had nearly enough time to properly appreciate that dress.

But the thought most prominent in her head was a memory that Waverly clung to fiercely. It was the look of pure joy in Nicole’s eyes the first time they made love. Waverly had never seen that mixture of tenderness and desire directed at her before. Had never felt the electric sensation of hands and lips reverently exploring every inch of her. She allowed herself to get lost in that particular memory for a moment.

God, Nicole must be worried sick, Waverly thought abruptly. She hated the idea of her girlfriend in her hospital room, scared and frustrated by her inability to lead the search, and Waverly hoped Rosita would have enough sense not to let the officer out of her sight. It would be just like Nicole to drag herself out of bed and come looking for her, in spite of her own weakened state.

Don't worry, baby, Waverly cast her plea towards the heavens, hoping that somehow, in some way, Nicole would hear her. I'm gonna get out of here, and then I'm coming home to you. I swear.

In the blackness above her, Waverly heard the soft click of the deadbolt being disengaged and then the scrape of the door opening. Without warning, an overhead light switched on, blinding her with its bright glare. She blinked rapidly as spots swam before her eyes.

“Didn't I warn you not to struggle so much?” Tucker asked as he descended the stairs.

He knelt behind her chair, and Waverly fought to suppress a shudder when his cold hands touched her forearms.

“You've really made a mess of your wrists, Waverly,” he said disapprovingly. “I hope they don't scar too much. That wouldn't be attractive at all.”

Waverly steeled herself and swallowed the snarky retort that nearly tumbled from her lips. If she made Tucker angry, he would just leave her down here in the cold and the dark again. Her fingers and toes were already turning numb, and there was a very real chance that she could die from hypothermia if she didn't convince him to let her get warm. And although she was certain that the team would find her eventually, she wasn't sure she could wait that long. If she wanted to get out of this alive, her best chance was to do it herself.

Doc had been working with her on developing a decent poker face. The best lies are built on truth, Waverly. Don't ever forget that, he'd told her. It was time to put his teachings to the test.

“I'm sorry,” she said over her shoulder, trying to sound sufficiently contrite. “I didn't mean to, Tucker. It's just...the ropes are so tight, and it's so cold down here and I really need to use the bathroom.”

Her skin crawled as Tucker suddenly took one of her hands between his.

“Your hands are freezing, Waverly.”

He sounded surprisingly concerned, and Waverly knew that she needed to seize this opportunity. If she could at least get him to take her upstairs, maybe she could find a way to escape.

“I'm so cold,” she repeated. “Please, Tucker. I don't want to die down here.”

He came around in front of her, looking down at her thoughtfully. His face was troubled and uncertain, and Waverly knew she had an opening.

“Please, Tucker,” she pleaded. “I promise I'll be good. I won't try to run away or anything.”

Tucker's eyes clouded with suspicion, and Waverly held her breath. Had she taken it too far? She could feel her advantage slipping away, so she did the only thing she could think to do, the only thing that might gain his sympathy. She started to cry.

Her tears worked. His expression softened slightly, and she could see him wrestling with his decision.

“How do I know I can believe you?” Tucker asked, at last.

Waverly thought quickly. Now, more than ever, she had to be convincing. One wrong move could spell disaster. Be cool, Waverly. Play along for now. You have to get him to trust you. She could hear Dolls in her head, giving her advice. But how was she going to get Tucker to trust her? Her eyes widened slightly as the answer came to her.

“Didn't I always stick up for you? Even when we were kids and the other boys picked on you, didn't I always take your side?”

“Yes. But then you started dating Champ Hardy, and he was the worst,” Tucker said darkly.

“He was the worst,” Waverly quickly agreed. “But I...I was lonely. Wynonna had run off and everyone just looked at me like that ‘poor, pathetic little Earp girl’. No one really saw me. Champ at least made me feel special.”

“I always saw that you were special, Waverly.”

She gave him a shy smile, even though, inside, she wanted to scream.

“I see that now. I wish I'd seen it sooner.”

That was the truth. Waverly wished she had seen a lot of things sooner. She wished she had realized just how dangerous Tucker's obsession with her had been. She'd always known he was infatuated with her, but she'd dismissed it as a harmless, although slightly creepy, crush.

Nicole had known, though. Nicole had seen Tucker for what he was the first time she'd laid eyes on him. She'd tried to warn her about him, but Waverly hadn't listened, and that mistake had nearly cost Nicole her life. She swore she would never make the mistake of underestimating Tucker Gardner ever again.

Waverly watched her captor as she waited for his response. He stood in front of her, completely still, staring at her with an uncomfortable intensity. Slowly, he reached behind his back, and when his hand came back into view, he was holding the knife.

She froze. Her poker face had been a failure. He knew she was lying to him, and he was going to kill her right now. She would never see her friends again, or her sister, or Nicole. I'm so sorry, Wynonna. I always loved you, Nicole. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before it was too late. Waverly said her goodbyes as she squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the inevitable. Instead, she was stunned when the ropes binding her wrists fell away.

She opened her eyes again and found Tucker standing over her, watching her curiously.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I would never hurt you, Waverly. I love you.”

Inwardly, Waverly cringed at his declaration of love. Outwardly though, she offered up a grateful smile.

Using the knife, he pointed at the stairs.

“Go ahead. Let's get you somewhere more comfortable so we can talk. But no tricks, Waverly. Don't make me regret this.”

“Thank you, Tucker. You won't regret this. I promise,” Waverly lied smoothly.

Getting out of this cellar had been her first goal. Hopefully, once she got upstairs she would find something that would help her break loose and escape.

And when I get out of here, Tucker Gardner, she thought as she climbed the stairs towards her chance at freedom, you're gonna wish you never heard of the Earps.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12.1

Raucous laughter, loud music and the nearly overpowering stench of sweat, stale beer and cigarette smoke greeted Doc as he sauntered through the doors of a warehouse on the outskirts of town. His fingers twitched at the melodious sound of clinking poker chips and shuffling cards. It had been ages since he'd played a decent hand of poker.

“Haven't seen you around lately, Henry.”

A burly man in filthy jeans and a stained t-shirt greeted him, and Doc turned his head, wrinkling his nose as the man’s foul breath wafted towards him. He struggled to conceal his disdain. Back in his time, no one so obviously uncouth would have been permitted in the finer gambling establishments that he typically frequented.

“It has been a while, friend,” Doc agreed as he surveyed the room.

They were interrupted by another man, this one short in stature, but with the barrel chest and broad shoulders of a wrestler. The man stood in front of Doc, hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his vest and glared up at the gunslinging gambler.

“You're not welcome here, Holliday.”

Doc lifted an eyebrow and patted the pockets of his coat, searching for his cigarette case. Opening it, he first offered the contents to the belligerent little man before him. No one could ever say that John Henry Holliday wasn't a consummate gentleman. At the man's refusal, Doc simply shrugged and removed a hand-rolled cigarillo for himself, placing it between his lips before returning to his coat pocket for a match.

“Your brother never refused my company, or my money,” he said pointedly as he lit the cigarillo and took a long puff.

“My brother disappeared the night you came here with that lawman, looking for the Jack of Knives.”

“Well, I am sorry about that,” Doc replied, flicking ash to the polished concrete floor. “Rest assured that his disappearance was not my doing. I rather liked Whiskey Jim.”

“I can see just how distraught you are,” he continued, contempt dripping from every syllable. “How difficult it must have been for you, being forced to take over his operation for yourself. And what do they call you now? Tequila Tommy, perhaps?”

“What do you want?” Tom Byers demanded, ignoring the taunts.

Doc produced a copy of a photograph from his coat. It was the picture that the sheriff’s department was circulating during their search for young Brandon Quan. After Wynonna had so coldly dismissed him from the scene of Waverly's abduction, Doc had hitched a ride back to the station.

There, he had pilfered the photograph from the stack on the Sheriff’s desk before setting out in search of his own answers. Though he had every faith in the diligence of the fine officers of Purgatory, there were places that they would not think to look. Places a bit less legitimate than the upstanding businesses that lined the town’s main thoroughfare. Places that a man like himself, with a talent for cards and a thirst for bourbon, was intimately acquainted with.

Doc held the photograph out to Tom Byers, who glanced at it with disinterest.

“I'm looking for this young man,” Doc said. “I've heard he has a certain weakness for establishments such as yours. Perhaps he's been here before?”

Byers shook his head. “Never seen him.”

From the look on the face of Byers’ more unpleasantly fragrant companion, Doc knew that the proprietor was lying. He grabbed the shorter man’s collar, twisting it in his fist.

“Maybe you could look again,” Doc growled, holding the picture in front of the man's eyes.

Byers gulped audibly and took the paper from Doc, scrutinizing it closely. He gave a short nod of recognition.

“Yeah, this kid’s been in here,” he admitted, straightening his collar after Doc released him. “He’s not one of my regulars. Terrible poker player, although his money is always welcome. Comes in every couple of months and loses a few grand before slinking out with his tail between his legs.”

“When was he here last?” Doc pressed for more details. “And might anyone here know where he departs to at the end of his unlucky nights?”

Byers stroked the heavy graying stubble on his chin as he considered the questions.

“I think he was here a couple of nights ago. As for where he hangs his hat? I have no idea.”

Doc frowned. He'd been hoping to find a stronger lead. Though he had confirmed that Brandon Quan had been here, he had no notion on where to continue his search.

“I might know where he went,” Byers’ large companion spoke up suddenly.

“Well, I'd be most grateful for that information.”

Doc pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and peeled off the top two. He held the offering out, snatching it back quickly when the man lunged for it.

“The particulars first, if you please,” he said.

“The last time he was here, he got so drunk he could barely walk,” the man said, his eyes never leaving the payment dangling just out of reach. “I dropped him off at that rundown motel on the east side of town.”

Doc handed the man the money and thanked him most sincerely. He coolly tipped his hat towards the scowling Tom Byers before hastily making his exit. He jumped into his car and turned east, steering with one hand while dialing his phone with the other.

“Dolls!” He exclaimed when the deputy marshal answered. “I have good news! I may have found the elusive Brandon Quan. Word is, he's holed up in that flop house of a motel on the east side. I'm heading there now.”

“You'd better hurry,” Dolls advised, his voice crackling through the phone’s speaker. “I just heard a call come over the radio. Someone reported a body at that location. Cops are on their way.”

“Well, shit,” Doc groused as he hung up and tossed his phone on the empty seat beside him.

His elation had turned sour. He pressed the accelerator lower as he sped down the highway. If the boy was dead, then Doc knew he needed to get there before the police removed everything that might prove useful. Though he realized that they all shared the same goal, Doc had vowed to himself that he would find Waverly first. He owed her that.

_________________________________________________

Chapter 12.2

Wynonna glanced sideways at the woman in the seat beside her as her truck jostled over the rough, gravelly road to the trailer park. She had to admit that Rosita seemed like a decent enough person. Except that she wasn't a person at all. Not really. In fact, the woman riding shotgun with her was a revenant, and they were supposed to be mortal enemies.

“This is weird, right?” Wynonna broke the awkward silence between them. “I mean, I'm the Earp heir and you're...well, you know.”

Rosita laughed, though it didn't sound like there was much humor in it.

“You can say it, Wynonna. It's not like Bloody Mary or Candyman.”

“I know that!” Wynonna shot back hotly.

“Really? Then say it. Rev-en-ant. It's not that hard.”

“Fine,” Wynonna sighed. “You're a revenant. There. Are you happy now?”

“Oh yeah,” Rosita replied sarcastically. “I'm doing a little dance. Can't you tell?”

Under other circumstances, Wynonna would have been willing to trade barbs with Rosita until they both ran out of passive-aggressive insults. She probably would have enjoyed it, even. Right now, though, there were more important things on her mind and first on that list was finding her sister.

They had nearly reached the trailer park where Bobo Del Rey had once held court, and Wynonna needed to know who was in charge there now. She hated walking into a situation blind.

“So who's the shit stain running the show these days?” She asked.

Rosita pursed her lips as she thought.

“At the trailer park? It varies from week to week. Most of the ones left there are lowlifes who probably don't have more than five viable brain cells among them.”

“If they're too dumb to be useful, then why are we going there?” Wynonna asked, exasperated.

Rosita shrugged. “Because you're driving and you picked the destination. Besides, I didn't say they couldn't be useful. The dumb ones are easier to bribe and way more likely to talk.”

Wynonna stopped in front of the gates to the trailer park, letting the truck’s engine idle as she stared through the chain link fence at the cluster of revenants gathered on the other side. She pointed Peacemaker at them through the windshield, watching as the gun glowed orange, illuminating the strange runes etched into the metal.

Rosita slapped her hand down, nearly knocking the gun from her grasp.

“Put that thing away! They'll never talk to us if you go around waving your magic gun in their faces.”

Before Wynonna could say anything, Rosita opened her door and jumped down.

“Stay here,” Rosita said. “Let me handle this. If they won't tell me what I want to know, then you can go all Death Wish on their asses.”

Rosita jogged toward the gate and exchanged a few words with one of the revenants inside. He pulled open the gate just enough for her to slip through, and soon she disappeared into the maze of rusting trailers.

Wynonna slammed the heel of her hand against the steering wheel and screamed in frustration. Waiting had never been her thing, and it was even less welcome today. Every minute that ticked by was another minute that her baby sister had to spend in the clutches of some demonic nutsack.

Waverly was strong, she knew that. But there were limits to how long someone could hold out under those circumstances. Wynonna flashed back to her own abduction by the Jack of Knives. That psychopath and his accomplice had fed her drugs that left her paralyzed and helpless, unable to do anything but listen to poor Bethany’s screams as they carved her like a Thanksgiving Day turkey. Then it had been her turn to lie naked and vulnerable on the table, and only the rescue efforts by Doc and Dolls had saved her from a similar fate. She shuddered at the thought of Waverly in that kind of terrifying situation.

Doc. She'd been too hard on him earlier. She knew that too. God, the look on his face when I told him to get out of my sight. She'd been so worried about her sister, and her fear always turned to anger and caused her to lash out at anyone unfortunate enough to be in her path.

Truth was, she'd been just as mad at herself. She should've stayed with Waverly at the hospital. Should've known that the attack on Nicole’s life was just another in a long list of attempts to get to the Earps. But instead of shouldering her own well-deserved blame, she had unleashed all of her fury on the hapless old gunslinger.

I'll make it up to him later, Wynonna promised herself. When this is over and Waverly's safe, I'll make things right. That would work, wouldn't it? It always had before.

She didn't have time to think about it further. Rosita was making her way back to the truck, and as she drew nearer, Wynonna could tell she hadn't found anything useful. A murderous rage began to build within.

“I knew it!” She snarled through clenched teeth.

Wynonna flung open her door and slid out of the truck, marching towards the trailer park with Peacemaker extended before her.

“Either one of you assholes is gonna talk willingly, or I'm gonna make you talk! Don't much care which!” She shouted as she approached.

Rosita hurried forward to meet her, holding her hands up placatingly.

“Chill, Wynonna! They don't know anything!”

“Like hell they don't!” Wynonna spat, closing the distance between them.

“Look at them!” Rosita gestured at the men behind her with weapons of their own drawn and ready. “You think they'd still be here if they had anything to do with Waverly getting snatched? They're stupid but they're not suicidal!”

Confused, Wynonna lowered her gun a fraction of an inch. Rosita made sense, but if the revenants weren't behind this, then who was? It had been easier when she'd thought she could put an end to this by storming the trailer park. But if the revenants really weren't guilty, then she had no idea what to do next.

“One of them did mention that he heard a rumor about some guy with a real hard-on for your sister,” Rosita said. “Didn't know anything more than that, though.”

“Champ?” Wynonna suggested uncertainly.

Waverly's douche canoe of an ex-boyfriend was the only guy she could think of that might fit that description. Although, she still had trouble believing that the Neanderthal that was Champ Hardy could be smart enough to do something this complicated.

Rosita shook her head.

“I don't think so. These guys saw Champ back when he used to work for your uncle. If it was him, they'd have given up his name.”

What the fuck, Wynonna screamed inside her head. They had come all the way out here and found out nothing. This whole thing had just been a gigantic waste of time and they were no closer to finding Waverly than they had been before they left the hospital. Her nerves were fraying rapidly and she felt an overwhelming urge to hurt something. Anything.

Overcome by frustration, Wynonna pointed Peacemaker at the nearest revenant and pulled the trigger, striking him between the eyes. She watched with a satisfied smirk as a chasm opened beneath him and the flames pulled him down to Hell. Lifting her chin defiantly, she silently dared the other revenants to make their move. Instead, they just glared at her as they began to slink away into the labyrinth of trailers. Her trigger finger itched and it took all of her self-restraint not to start shooting at them before they all disappeared.

As her blind anger began to fade, she became aware of Rosita staring at her with an expression of horror and a hint of fear. Wynonna met her eyes with a cool gaze of her own and wordlessly lifted a challenging eyebrow. Rosita merely shrugged and looked away.

Killing a nameless revenant hadn't accomplished anything useful, but it had made her feel better for a minute. For just a moment, she had felt like she was in control of the situation instead of spinning in helpless circles. She knew how to handle revenants, but the idea that Waverly had been taken by someone else scared her more than she cared to let on.
And though Wynonna hated to admit it, it was starting to look like Nicole had been right all along. This had nothing to do with her or with the Earp curse. She swore softly under her breath.

“Okay,” she said, tucking her gun into the holster at her side. “We’re going back to the hospital then. I need to talk to the person who obviously knows my sister way better than I do.”

The two women climbed back into the truck. Wynonna stared grimly through the windshield as she drove back towards Purgatory. An actual person had taken Waverly. That was a development she hadn't expected. Wynonna had never taken a human life before and she wasn't exactly eager to take one now. But if you hurt my sister in any way, you son of a bitch, I will end you. There's a first time for everything.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

The lonely highway seemed to stretch endlessly towards the horizon. Storm clouds were gathering overhead, casting eerie shadows over the bleak and desolate landscape. Occasional bursts of static hissed forth from the two-way radio, and Nicole reached over to turn the volume down. She hadn't seen another vehicle for miles, and she was beginning to seriously question following the hunch that had taken her out into the middle of nowhere.

Keeping her eyes on the road, she rolled her head to both sides, trying to relieve the tension in her neck and shoulders. It felt as if someone was drilling a hole just above her right eye, but she was determined to ignore the tell-tale signs of her impending migraine. She'd already come this far, and there was no turning back now.

“Can't go back, Nicole,” she said aloud.

The monotony of the salt flats threatened to lull her to sleep, so she’d been talking to herself for the last half an hour in an attempt to stay awake and alert. So far, it had been working, but Nicole knew that she probably couldn't go much longer without stopping to rest.

“Just a little bit further,” she told herself, glancing at the clock on the console. “If I don't find anything in the next hour, I'll turn around.”

Turn back? Did I just say that? Nicole was horrified that she had even considered the idea of abandoning the search. She would never give up, not as long as Waverly was out there somewhere. Not as long as there was a chance that Waverly still needed her.

Nicole’s vision blurred and she realized that she had started to cry. Hastily, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve while swallowing the frustrated, helpless sobs about to fall from her lips. Even though she felt like she was dying inside, she had to stay strong. For Waverly.

No matter how hard she tried to ignore it though, doubt lingered in her mind. What if she was going in the wrong direction? Chasing false hopes? What if every mile that passed was taking her further away from the woman she loved instead of bringing her closer? Maybe this was crazy. Maybe she should turn back.

Nicole sighed, raking the fingers of one hand through her hair as she tried not to be completely disheartened by her uncertainty. Usually when she felt this way, she would turn to her girlfriend, who never failed to lift her spirits with her positivity and optimism. So now she did the only thing she could think of to do. Smiling sadly, she talked to Waverly.

“And wouldn’t that be super-interesting if I did go back?” Nicole began with her trademark sarcasm and self-deprecating humor. “You won't believe what I did, Waves. Let's see...I assaulted a fellow officer, stole his clothes, his gun and his car, and then I snuck out of the hospital, completely against orders. When Nedley finds me, I'll be lucky if I'm just fired and not arrested too. I swear, I think he would put me over his knee if he thought he could get away with it.”

Nicole laughed, picturing the look on Waverly's face upon hearing this story. She could almost see the shock and dismay mixed with just a hint of pride. Her smile faded quickly as that image was replaced by another. Waverly. Afraid. Maybe injured. Maybe worse. Nicole shook her head to rid her mind of that particular vision.

“No. Can't go there. You're gonna be fine, Waves. I'm gonna find you and bring you home. And you're gonna be fine. You have to be.”

Losing her just wasn't an option, and Nicole refused to let herself even think about that possibility. Waverly was the strongest and the smartest woman she had ever known, and she knew that if anyone could get through this ordeal unscathed, it would be Waverly Earp.

Nicole knew she needed to do her job and be a cop right now, instead of a worried-out-of-her-mind girlfriend. Still, she allowed herself a few moments to get lost in her memories. She recalled the first time she'd laid eyes on the Earp girl that she'd heard so much about. Even soaked in beer and blushing from embarrassment, Waverly had been the most beautiful woman Nicole had ever seen. And somehow, in spite of Waverly's stammered protests, Nicole had known deep down that they were destined to be together.

She'd given Waverly the space she had needed to come to her own conclusion though, content to be friends until the younger woman decided what she really wanted. Then, after weeks of shy smiles and cautious flirting, Waverly had marched into the station, dragged Nicole into Nedley's office and kissed her with a certainty that left her breathless and dizzy.

The first time they'd made love, Nicole had expected her to be nervous and tentative. She'd been prepared to take it slow and let Waverly set the pace. She definitely hadn't counted on Waverly's passion and hunger matching her own. That entire night had alternated between languid exploration and almost frantic, desperate need.

And then, God, that cheerleading outfit. All Nicole had been able to do was stand there with the most idiotic, awestruck grin while Waverly gyrated in front of her. Her girlfriend could be such a shameless tease sometimes, and Nicole had been a little bit surprised to discover that she kind of loved letting Waverly take control. She had always thought of herself as a fairly strong, confident woman, but Waverly Earp could bat her eyelashes and reduce her to a quivering puddle in mere seconds.

Finally, Nicole's thoughts drifted to more recent events. Waking up in the hospital had been confusing and disorienting, but Waverly's face smiling down at her had been the first thing she'd seen, and all of her fears and anxieties had melted away. Her heart had expanded and nearly burst upon hearing Waverly's declaration of love. Had that only been a few hours ago? How had everything been turned upside down so fast? When were they finally going to get a chance to just be together and breathe for a few minutes?

Nicole shook her head. She had no time for self-pity. She squinted up at the sky, noticing that the clouds were getting darker. A nasty storm was about to roll down from the mountains. She was about to consider turning back when something in the distance ahead caught her eye.

She pressed onward, and her heart nearly stopped as her brain identified the scene looming before her. Waverly's jeep sat abandoned on the side of the road. Nicole allowed her training and her instincts to take over as she carefully rolled to a stop several yards behind the other vehicle.

There was no one else in sight, but Nicole took no chances. She approached the jeep slowly, gun drawn and at the ready. As she had suspected, the vehicle was empty, and she let out a shaky breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her eyes swept over the interior of the jeep, searching for any immediately visible evidence, and she was momentarily paralyzed by the sight of the brownish-red smudges on the steering wheel and gearshift. Blood. Waverly's blood?

A hollow roaring filled her ears, her vision went black around the edges, and Nicole felt her knees beginning to buckle. She grabbed the door to keep from passing out. Her chest tightened and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. She was beginning to hyperventilate.

Nicole! Snap out of it! Waverly's voice sounded in her mind, and gradually Nicole forced herself to regulate her breathing and calm herself. She ground the heels of her hands against her eyes, angrily wiping away the tears that threatened to fall.

The first snow flurries began to swirl in the air, and she knew she had to work quickly. She needed to survey the rest of the scene and figure out a way to preserve any evidence until a crime scene unit could arrive.

Moving with a renewed sense of purpose, Nicole examined the ground surrounding the jeep. Thankfully, the ground was still soft from the last snow and she easily spotted the tire tracks pressed into the mud in front of Waverly's vehicle. So they switched cars, Nicole mused. Judging from the size and depth of the tread, she figured that they were now looking for a decent-sized truck or van.

The snow was falling steadier now, and the wind was picking up. She had to hurry. Nicole returned to the cruiser and popped open the trunk, hoping that Officer Clark was as diligent as she was about carrying the required equipment. She wasn't disappointed. Breathing a sigh of relief, she pulled the small storage locker from the trunk and emptied its contents onto the ground. With one hand, she grabbed the bright blue plastic tarp. With the other, she dragged the empty locker back over to the tire marks.

She spread the tarp across the tracks, kneeling on the edges to keep the strengthening wind from carrying it away. She opened the locker and flipped it over, placing the open side on top of the tarp. Chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully, Nicole surveyed her makeshift handiwork. It would have to do. Hopefully this was just going to be a brief squall and not a full-on blizzard.

Now came the part that she was dreading. She made her way back to the cruiser once more, blinking away the snowflakes that stuck to her eyelashes. Leaning inside, Nicole turned the radio up again and lifted the handset.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Haught. I need immediate CSU assistance on highway 93, about a quarter mile past marker 60.”

Static squawked back at her for a few seconds before a familiar voice replied.

“Nicole, honey, is that you? You shouldn't even be out of the hospital yet! Everyone’s been worried sick about you! Don't think I've ever seen Sheriff Nedley so mad!”

Dorothy Lopez had been working as the sheriff’s dispatcher for over forty years. She'd been there longer than anyone, even Nedley, and accordingly, she treated all the officers like they were her own children.

“I know. I'll apologize to everybody as soon as I can,” Nicole said. “But, Dorothy, right now I really need a crime scene unit. I...I found her jeep. Waverly's jeep.”

The dispatcher’s tone instantly changed from admonishment to sympathy.

“Okay, sweetie. You just sit tight and stay warm. I've got help on the way.”

The radio went silent, and Nicole suddenly realized that she was shivering despite the heavy uniform jacket she was wearing. Through the rapidly accumulating snow, she trudged back to the rear of the cruiser and tossed everything from the storage locker back into the trunk and slammed it closed. She kept the emergency blanket, wrapping it around her shoulders tightly as she slid inside the car and turned up the heat.

Her head was still pounding, and she rummaged through the glove box in search of anything that might ease the pain. She tried to ignore her trembling hands as she retrieved a bottle of aspirin and shook four small white tablets out, swallowing them dry. The pills were bitter on her tongue, and she grimaced at the taste.

As she sat in the car, buffetted by the raging storm, Nicole desperately tried not to think about Waverly. She tried not to think about all the reasons why blood might be smeared on the interior of her girlfriend's jeep. She tried not to imagine her beautiful Waverly bleeding from some terrible unknown injury and caught in the web of a psychopath. She tried not to picture any of it, but she failed.

The not knowing was more than she could bear, and she pressed her fist to her mouth, trying in vain to stop the raw, jagged sobs that wrenched free from her lips and wracked her entire body.

“Waverly, please. Please be okay, baby. I can't live without you,” she pleaded, her voice cracking as tears streamed unchecked down her face.

Since hearing the news that her girlfriend was missing, she'd been trying so hard to stay strong, but she couldn't do it anymore. Alone under a darkened sky, Nicole Haught finally broke.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

“Hell and damnation!” Doc swore as he pulled into the parking lot of the Rough Rider Motel.

He had hoped to arrive on the scene before the law, but as he frowned at the flashing lights that lit the asphalt in shades of blue and red, he realized that he was too late. Three Purgatory sheriff's department vehicles were already parked in front of a dilapidated bungalow, and several officers were lounging next to their cars, waiting for a signal to proceed.

Scowling darkly, Doc parked his own car and slid out of the seat. A barrier of yellow tape separated the parking lot from the building itself and Doc looked past it to the open door of one of the motel rooms. There, he could see Sheriff Nedley kneeling over the prostrate form of the unfortunate soul who had perished within.

The Rough Rider had a reputation for catering to the most unsavory denizens of Purgatory, and none of the officers present seemed the slightest bit perturbed by the discovery of a body on its premises. Doc scratched absently at the stubble on his chin as he eyed the lone woman patrolling the barricade.

Aside from Officer Haught, she was the only other woman serving the sheriff's department, and Doc regretfully realized that he did not recall her name. She was perhaps ten years older than Nicole and at least six inches shorter. He approached the woman slowly, ignoring the curious glances from the other officers as he attempted to dazzle her with his most disarming smile.

“Pardon me, miss,” he said, touching two fingers to the brim of his hat. “I need to speak to the sheriff, as I believe that the Black Badge Division might have a particular interest in this case, as well. Perhaps you would be kind enough to alert him, Officer...”

His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted down to the badge pinned to her chest. To his dismay, he discovered that her name was obscured by the flap of her unzipped jacket. As he struggled to read the emblem, he was startled by fingers snapping in front of his face.

“Eyes up here, cowboy,” the officer commanded. “Only my husband and my doctor get to look at me like that.”

Doc blinked at her, dumbfounded.

“My most humble apologies. I meant no offense. I was just wondering how I should address you,” Doc drawled in a tone that dripped honey.

“You just call me ‘Officer’, okay? That's good enough,” she said, unmoved by his protestations.

She glared up at him, and Doc noticed that her left hand had dropped to the canister of pepper spray at her belt. He took a step backwards.

“I just need to speak with the sheriff,” he repeated, raising his voice slightly. “This is a matter of the utmost importance, I assure you.”

The woman shook her head stubbornly, explaining that she had strict orders not to let anyone past, and Doc could feel his patience wearing thin. As long as Waverly was still missing, he had little time for playing games with recalcitrant officers of the law. His piercing blue eyes narrowed dangerously and he was on the verge of a biting reply when Sheriff Nedley's voice rumbled across the distance.

“It's alright, Thompson. Let him through,” Nedley said gruffly as he appeared in the motel room doorway and waved the angry gunslinger over.

Officer Candice Thompson sighed and stepped aside, allowing Doc to duck underneath the police tape. He joined the sheriff in the cramped and disheveled room and found himself staring at the body of a young man lying face down in a congealing pool of blood.

Nedley nodded, answering Doc’s unspoken question.

“Brandon Quan,” he confirmed. “Looks like someone stabbed him multiple times and left him here to bleed out. Don't touch anything, Holliday. Not until the crime scene boys have a chance to go over this place with a fine tooth comb.”

“I wouldn't dream of interfering with your investigation, Sheriff,” Doc said as he moved to stand in front of a battered dresser.

Nedley grunted in acknowledgment and turned away to speak with an officer who was methodically photographing the body. While the sheriff’s attention was occupied, Doc swiftly hooked the heel of his boot beneath the dresser and dragged an object forward. Quickly, he bent down and pocketed the item, straightening before anyone noticed him.

“Well, since it doesn't appear that I can be of any assistance here, I do believe I’ll be on my way,” Doc said, inching towards the door.

Nedley stepped in front of him, and for a moment, Doc thought he had been discovered.

“Hold on a minute, Holliday,” Nedley placed a hand on his shoulder. “I'd be grateful if you kept this under your hat for now, except for BBD of course. If whoever killed the boy is the same person that kidnapped Waverly Earp, then we don't want him tipped off in any way.”

Doc exhaled slowly, relieved. His hand went reflexively to his coat, covering the pocket where he had concealed his pilfered evidence.

“Of course,” he agreed as he edged closer to the door.

Once outside and safely out of the reach of the sheriff, he hurried back to his car. During the last few minutes, the wind had taken on a particularly persistent chill, and Doc squinted up at the scattered clouds above. Snow was coming. He could almost taste it in the air, though there was no hint of it in the skies overhead.

As he climbed behind the wheel and left the Rough Rider behind, he reached into his pocket and removed the piece of evidence he'd taken from the scene. It was a small prepaid phone, and Doc was certain that it had belonged to Brandon Quan. He was equally sure that Jeremy would be able to find something of value on it. There had to be something. With each passing hour, Waverly was running out of time. And I'll be damned if I allow anything to happen to her again, he thought. Not while I'm still able to draw breath.

Determined, Doc carefully slid the dead man’s phone back into his pocket and retrieved his own phone from the seat beside him.

“Dolls!” He said excitedly when the deputy marshal answered. “I'm heading to the station now. I've found something!”

About fifteen minutes later, he had arrived at the sheriff's station, and his entire body hummed with anticipation as he practically sprinted towards the Black Badge office. He burst through the door and produced Brandon Quan’s phone with a triumphant grin.

“Great. Another phone,” Jeremy groaned as he looked up from his workstation, the shattered pieces of Waverly's phone still laid out before him. “I’m still trying to put this one back together.”

“Is that it?” Dolls asked, taking the evidence from Doc and examining it doubtfully.

“It's more than we had before,” Doc replied defensively. “This device belonged to the man who helped poison Miss Haught. There's bound to be something that connects him to the fiend who tried to kill her and absconded with Waverly.”

Behind him, the door opened again and Doc spun around to find himself face to face with Wynonna and Rosita. He stared at them in open-mouthed astonishment. His last encounter with Wynonna had ended less than amicably and Rosita was supposed to be watching over Nicole. What on Earth were they doing here, together?

“What are you doing here?” Doc and Wynonna blurted out the question simultaneously.

“Where else would I be?” Wynonna asked, bewildered and slightly annoyed.

“Brandon Quan is dead. Doc managed to grab his phone before the cops did. We were just about to look through it,” Dolls informed her, easing the tension.

Wynonna turned her attention to her boss. “Wait. Who's he again? And please tell me you and Jeremy have found something we can use to find Waverly. Something on the security tapes from the hospital, maybe?”

Dolls shook his head. “You know I would’ve called you if we’d found anything concrete. The tapes are a dead end right now. You can see someone get into your sister’s vehicle, but he was smart. He was wearing a hood and he kept his face away from the camera.”

“I want to see it anyway,” Wynonna insisted. “Maybe you missed something. Now what about this dead dude that Doc found?”

While Dolls refreshed Wynonna's memory about Brandon Quan’s identity, Doc used the opportunity to pull Rosita aside.

“If you're both here, then who’s looking after Nicole? And since when are you and Wynonna such good friends?”

“We’re not friends. Not exactly,” Rosita said, jerking her arm from his grasp. “You're the one who told me to make sure she didn't do something stupid. Remember?”

Much to his chagrin, he did remember. Rosita had called him after hearing what had happened to Waverly, and though he had been hurt and angry, he had still asked her to look out for Wynonna. Whenever she thought Waverly was in danger, Wynonna had a tendency to operate with all the fury and unpredictability of a tornado, and Doc had known that she would need someone to tame her more destructive impulses.

“Nicole did what?!” Dolls exclaimed loudly as Wynonna quietly spoke to him.

Doc gave Rosita a questioning look and she shrugged sheepishly, deferring to Wynonna.

“We, uh, we just came from the hospital,” Wynonna explained haltingly without making eye contact with anyone. “Looks like Nicole took off right after we left.”

Doc was furious. As if Waverly’s abduction weren't grave enough, now her girlfriend was unaccounted for too? Nicole had been deathly ill not long ago, and now she was out there alone. He yanked his hat from his head and angrily pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“Damn it, Wynonna! Did you honestly think she would stay?”

“No. Not really,” she admitted quietly. “I had Nedley send someone. But you're right. I should've made sure. If anything happens to her, it's on me.”

Wynonna sighed and her shoulders sagged. Doc could not remember a time when she had ever looked quite so defeated, and he softened immediately. He never could stay angry with her for long. He was about to make an attempt at consoling her when Rosita surprised him with an irritated shove.

“Leave her alone! So maybe she wasn't thinking that clearly. Her sister's missing. I'm thinking that would be enough to mess with anyone's head. Besides, ain't her fault that Red knocked the dude out and took off.”

“Okay, okay. Everybody just calm down,” Dolls said in an authoritative tone. “Fighting with each other won't help find Waverly or Nicole.”

“Jeremy, see what you can find,” the deputy marshal continued, handing the scientist the evidence that Doc had acquired. “Wynonna, think. If you were Nicole, where would you go?”

They were interrupted by a sound from the doorway, where Sheriff Nedley stood, clearing his throat. His cheeks and nose looked red and raw from the cold and melted snow had left damp spots on the brim of his hat.

“Nicole’s fine. At least until I get a hold of her,” he said testily. “A call just came in over the radio. She found Waverly's jeep.”

Wynonna shot forward, her eyes wide and hopeful. Nedley shook his head sadly.

“Just the jeep, Wynonna. There was no sign of your sister,” he said gently. “Crime scene unit is on its way and Officer Haught has strict orders to get her butt back here as soon as they arrive.”

Wynonna leaned back against the conference table, and Doc thought she looked like she might collapse without its support. Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away stubbornly. Doc took a step towards her, intent on offering her a comforting shoulder to cry on, but Dolls beat him to it. He could only watch, vaguely envious, as the deputy marshal rubbed the back of her neck and spoke to her softly.

“Uh...guys?”

Jeremy caught everyone's attention as he scrolled through Brandon Quan’s phone. He held it up, displaying a saved message on the screen. Doc was close enough to read it, and his stomach lurched as the words penetrated his brain. This was far worse than he had expected. In a fog, he barely heard Jeremy's question.

“Who’s Tucker?”

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

The stairs from the root cellar led to a small, but functional kitchen in the cabin above. Waverly's eyes swept the room, registering everything. A stove with a frying pan sitting on one of the burners. An ancient, battered refrigerator. A wooden table with two matching chairs. Most importantly, there was a door that appeared to lead to a back porch.

Waverly wondered if she could get to that frying pan before Tucker could stop her. One well-timed swing, a mad dash to the door, and she would be free. She bit her lower lip, wincing as her teeth made contact with tender flesh still swollen from when Tucker had hit her.

Then the opportunity was gone. Tucker's claw-like hand closed around her upper arm, and she flinched at his touch. His grip tightened and she felt him stiffening in anger beside her.

“Sorry. You startled me,” Waverly said with an apologetic smile. “And your hands are still freezing.”

The pressure around her arm relaxed just slightly, but Tucker didn't remove his hand. Instead, he silently guided her out of the kitchen and into a sparsely furnished living room lit only by the flames flickering in the stone fireplace. The curtains hanging from the picture window were open, and Waverly realized with dismay that a blizzard raged outside the cabin. She'd been so focused on inspecting her surroundings that she hadn't even heard the howling wind.

“I hope you hadn't planned on running away,” Tucker said, his voice low and menacing. “I don't think you'd get very far.”

He released her arm, but Waverly's relief was short-lived as the clammy sensation of his hand was replaced by the tip of his knife pressing between her shoulders. She held her breath, waiting to feel the cold bite of the steel sliding into her flesh, but Tucker merely pointed to an open door across the room.

“You can use the bathroom and clean yourself up,” he said, his lips inches from her ear. “There's a change of clothes in there for you, too. Something more...appropriate. I don't like it when you show so much of yourself.”

Waverly took a hesitant step forward. Thanks to the storm, her escape plan was quickly crumbling. She needed a Plan B. Okay, Tucker, she thought grimly. You wanna play games? Let's play.

Ignoring the blade at her back, she turned to face him, noting the surprise in his eyes. He wasn't expecting that. He thinks he's already won. Another of Doc’s poker lessons rose to the forefront of her mind. Listen carefully, Waverly. Your opponent is at his most vulnerable when he's certain he has the upper hand. Use his own arrogance against him.

With a trembling hand, Waverly reached out and lightly touched Tucker's arm. She smiled at him, secretly glad that the dim light kept him from seeing the revulsion on her face.

“Thank you, Tucker. I really appreciate this. I know you only want the best for me.”

He took a faltering step backwards, and he seemed momentarily confused by her manner.

“You do?” He asked.

Waverly squeezed his arm gently. She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but the blizzard had cut off her chance at getting away. She decided to press the only advantage that she had.

“Of course,” she said, dropping her hand from his arm. “You've always looked out for me, haven't you? After Wynonna ran away, I remember seeing you outside Uncle Curtis’s house all the time. You were just making sure I was okay, weren't you?”

“Wynonna takes you for granted. She doesn't deserve your loyalty, Waverly. I hope you're starting to understand that.”

“Oh, I'm starting to understand a lot of things, Tucker. And I have you to thank for it.”

Before he could react, Waverly turned away from him and headed for the open bathroom door. Her sister’s voice echoed in her head as she crossed the short distance. Anything can be a weapon, baby girl. You just have to know how to use it. Out of the corner of her eye, Waverly spotted the fireplace poker on her right. With a slight turn of her head, she noticed a brass lamp on a table to her left. Both could inflict significant damage if she could reach them in time. She filed the information away for future use.

Tucker was right behind her and his bony fingers closed around her wrist as she started to close the bathroom door. Hesitantly, almost shyly, he moved towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Every muscle in Waverly’s body wanted to shove him away and break free from his twisted embrace, but she forced herself to remain still. She could see the knife tucked into his waistband, but her arms were pinned at her sides and she couldn’t reach it. She closed her eyes and pictured her sister, her friends, Nicole, anyone except the monster pressed up against her.

“I’m so glad you’re finally starting to see things my way, Waverly,” he said. “Now we just have to get rid of the people standing in our way. Then we can be free.”

“Wh-what people?” Waverly asked, dreading his answer.

He released her and stepped back, and Waverly was chilled by the fevered glint of insanity shining in his eyes. Fear seized her as she was hit with the realization that this was going to be much harder than she had thought.

“My sisters. Your sister. And especially your cop friend. I should’ve finished her when I had the chance. I won’t make that mistake again.”

Waverly’s heart plummeted. Tucker wasn’t finished. Kidnapping her wasn’t enough. He wasn’t going to stop until he had destroyed everyone that she loved. Wynonna could take care of herself, plus she had Doc and Dolls watching her back. But Nicole was vulnerable, and Waverly couldn’t let him hurt her again. She had to find a way to stop him.

Nicole’s voice whispered to her, warm and supportive, as always. Waverly Earp, you are the smartest person I know. If anyone can find an answer, it’s you. I have faith in you.

Waverly swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat, and she willed herself not to cry. Tears would only betray her. She settled on an expression that she hoped passed for callous indifference.

“You don’t have to worry about Nicole,” she said with a shrug. “We’re done. That whole thing was just a huge mistake.”

Tucker’s eyes narrowed and hardened as he regarded her suspiciously. Waverly knew that whatever she said next, she had to be convincing. Her life and lives of the people she loved depended on it. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead, nearly choking on words that made her sick to her stomach.

“She lied to me, Tucker. She took something that she had no right to take, and then she hid it from me. I could never forgive her for that. Never. So you don’t have to worry about her, because I never want to see her again, anyway.”

Tucker’s face twisted into a vicious sneer.

“But you loved her. You let her corrupt you, even though it was wrong. Killing her is really the only way to make sure she can’t degrade you like that again.”

Waverly remembered the a conversation she and Nicole had had before they had moved from being “just friends” to being “more than friends.” They had been in Nicole’s car, and Waverly had just snapped at her. She remembered how crestfallen Nicole had looked, and how terrible it had made her feel to be the source of Nicole’s pain. Waverly, I would never ask you to be someone you’re not. With that simple statement, Nicole had eased her anxieties and made her feel safe. Now, it’s my turn to make sure you’re safe, Waverly thought, even if it means breaking both of our hearts.

She looked past Tucker at the snow and ice pelting the window behind him, and she clenched her teeth to keep her voice from trembling.

“I don’t love her. I’m not sure I ever did. How could I love someone that I can’t trust? How could I ever love someone that tried to change me into someone I’m not?”

Tucker smiled. “You don’t know how happy that makes me, Waverly. Now I know I did the right thing.”

He nodded towards the door. “You go ahead. I’ll be waiting right here for you, whenever you’re ready.”

Waverly stepped inside the bathroom and shut the door behind her. The lock was broken. If Tucker decided to come in, there was no way she could keep him out. But she couldn’t think about that right now. Silent tears streamed down her face as she sank to the cold tile floor. She bowed her head and prayed that Nicole would never have to know about any of the awful things she had said.

I’m so sorry, Nicole. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it. Please, baby. You have to believe me. I only said it to keep you safe. Because I love you. I have always loved you.

The storm continued to shriek outside, rattling the walls of the tiny cabin, and Waverly hoped that the noise was enough to hide the sound of the sobs that she could no longer keep from escaping.

Chapter Text

Chapter 16.1

Wiping away the last traces of her tears, Nicole stared pensively out into the swirling snow. Out here, alone and waiting for help to arrive, she had nothing to do but think, and her mind led her down dark alleys she would’ve preferred to avoid.

For the first time since waking up in the hospital, she acknowledged that she had almost died. Someone out there hated her enough to want her gone. Nicole leaned her head back and shut her eyes, remembering the other times she had cheated death. The first had been during her own abduction by the Jack of Knives. She hadn’t been “the right kind” like Wynonna, so the monstrous revenant and his human protégé had dumped her in a ditch by the side of the road. And according to Nedley, she actually had died, at least for a moment or two. Somehow, she had survived. Probably out of sheer stubbornness, Waverly would later say.

The second time Death had come calling for her, only a bulletproof vest had saved her from an early grave. Nicole winced, recalling the sharp crack of Willa’s bullet hitting her chest, sending all of her breath rushing from her lungs. But then that image was replaced by another — Waverly cradling her in her arms, smiling down at her, tears of happiness and relief splashing her cheeks.

Someday, those Earp sisters really are gonna be the death of me, Nicole thought, shaking her head fondly. Still, she knew she wouldn’t trade a single second of her time with them. She would give up her own life, without hesitation, if it meant one more minute with Waverly.

And now Waverly was gone, and she was out here in the middle of nowhere, wasting time. What am I even doing out here? I should be in Purgatory, helping Wynonna kick down doors. Or at the station following up on actual leads. Or doing something that would actually be useful.

The rational part of her brain reminded her that if she hadn’t followed her instincts, she never would’ve found Waverly’s jeep. It was a solid lead, and maybe something in there would help them find her and the person who took her. But there was another part of her mind that kept whispering to her insistently. The part that kept telling her, “You know who did this, Nicole. You’ve known since the minute you heard she was missing. Just admit it to yourself.”

A vision rose before her of Nedley handing her a file marked “Confidential.” In it, she’d found allegations of stalking, voyeurism, and even a suspicion of breaking and entering. No charges had ever been filed, though. There had never been anything concrete enough to hold him.

She hated the thought of Waverly in his sick, twisted clutches. Frowning, she pushed the idea away, refusing to entertain it. Maybe Wynonna was right, after all. Maybe it was just a revenant. Would that really be any better, she wondered. But the Waverly-sized hole in her heart told her that her instincts weren’t wrong.

Outside, the wind had picked up, rocking the cruiser on its tires and jerking Nicole back to the present. Her eyes flew open and as she squinted through the foggy windshield, she realized that visibility had gotten worse with every passing minute. Where the hell are they? The crime scene unit hadn’t arrived yet, and she was beginning to worry that all of the evidence would be lost to the strengthening storm.

She couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t take the chance that a vital clue to Waverly’s whereabouts might be swept away by nature’s wrath. Zipping her jacket, she got out of the car and held her hat firmly in place to keep it from being whisked away.

The cold stung her eyes and left her breathless, and ice pricked her tear-streaked face like a thousand tiny needles as she trudged the short distance between her vehicle and Waverly’s jeep. The wind tugged at the tarp she’d used to cover the tire tracks, and she knew that if she didn’t do something soon, it would blow away.

As she hurried back to the cruiser in search of something she could use to secure the plastic sheeting, she pulled up suddenly. It felt as if an icy hand had gripped her heart and squeezed. A rush of fear flooded through her, sending her pulse racing.

Waverly. Something’s wrong with Waverly. Oh God, she’s in pain. Anxiety tightened and constricted her chest until Nicole could scarcely breathe, and her lungs ached from the lack of air as she stumbled the last few feet to the car. She couldn’t explain how she knew what Waverly was feeling; she just had an overpowering sense of her girlfriend’s distress.

She yanked open the car door and threw herself inside, numb fingers fumbling for the key in the ignition. Where am I even going, she wondered. She slammed the palm of her hand against the steering wheel in frustration, ignoring the jolt of pain the action caused in her bruised and aching ribs.

“Help me, Waverly! Tell me where to go! I don’t know what to do!”

The wind screamed back, mocking her. Only, it wasn’t the wind. Nicole’s brow furrowed and she cocked her head to one side, listening carefully to the high-pitched whine. She checked her rearview mirror and gave a huge sigh of relief when she saw the rapidly approaching flashing lights. Backup had finally arrived. She took a deep breath and began trying to compose herself before she had to face them. A few minutes later, the crime scene van had pulled up alongside her, and the lead investigator was tapping on her window.

“Tim Madison,” he held out a hand in greeting as Nicole exited her vehicle.

Nicole returned his handshake, desperately willing her own hand not to tremble as she introduced herself. The CSI nodded approvingly towards Waverly’s jeep.

“That was some quick thinking, Officer Haught. If you hadn’t done what you did, we might not have any evidence left to process. Now, why don’t you walk me through everything? What did you see when you arrived, and most importantly, did you touch anything?”

The familiarity of routine police work calmed her frayed nerves, and Nicole felt her tension ease just a bit. As she began to recount her initial inspection of the area, she was interrupted by a faint burst of static from her radio. She reached into the car and cranked the volume up, straining to hear the message being sent her way.

“Pick up the damn radio, Haught! That’s an order!”

Nedley’s voice sounded even crankier and more irritated than normal, and Nicole felt a flush creeping up the back of her neck. She glanced over her shoulder at the crime scene investigator, who gave no indication that he had heard the sheriff’s command. Instead, he appeared to be busy deploying his own team.

“I’m here, Sheriff,” Nicole replied, waiting for the string of threats and admonishments that were surely coming her way.

“Nicole, you need to get back to the station right away.”

Nedley’s voice was kinder now, and Nicole found that even more terrifying than facing his anger and disappointment. Something had happened. Something that he was trying to break to her gently. She remembered the feeling she’d had earlier of Waverly in pain, and she clenched her teeth, bracing herself for bad news.

“Just tell me, Nedley. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

After a pause that seemed to last an hour, Nedley spoke again, and his next words tilted her entire world sideways.

“We know who took Waverly. It was Tucker. Tucker Gardener.”

As the sheriff’s declaration sank in, Nicole gripped the edge of her car door until her knuckles turned white. Tucker Gardener had Waverly. Her worst fear had just been confirmed. Briefly, she considered continuing down the highway in pursuit of them, but soon she would reach the mountains where countless side roads awaited her. There was no way to know which one, if any, they might have taken.

It would be better to head back to town, search the Gardener house, question his sisters, go through the family records. The answers were back in Purgatory. She was sure of it.

Grimly, she spoke into the radio. “I’m on my way.”

Her decision made, she climbed into her car and sped away, leaving the astonished crime scene unit in her wake.

I’m on to you now, Tucker. And if you hurt her in any way, I’ll kill you myself. I swear to God, I will end you.

Ignoring the snow, the icy road and her own exhaustion, Nicole pressed the accelerator towards the floor. She needed to get back to the station, and she needed to get there quickly. She had work to do.

_________________________________________________

Chapter 16.2

“Where is he?”

With a murderous glint in her eyes, Wynonna pushed past the eldest Gardener and entered the house. She clutched Peacemaker in her right hand, her index finger resting lightly on the trigger. Behind her, Dolls flashed his badge at the dumbfounded woman standing in the entryway.

“What the hell, Wynonna! Where’s who?” Mercedes Gardener asked, both confused and annoyed by the Black Badge Division’s invasion of her home.

Wynonna chose to ignore her old high school pal as she continued to check every room on the first floor. Ever since Jeremy had connected the dots between Tucker Gardener and Brandon Quan, she had been itching to shoot someone. And although she doubted that she would find the little creep here, she hoped she would find something she could vent her rage towards.

“Wynonna, slow down for a sec and answer me,” Mercedes said, catching up to her in the formal dining room. “What are you doing here?”

“Tucker. You’re looking for Tucker, aren’t you?”

A voice from above startled them, and they all whirled to find Beth Gardener watching from the stairs. Dolls exhaled slowly and holstered his weapon. After a pointed look from the deputy marshal, Wynonna reluctantly lowered her own.

“Shit,” Mercedes groaned as she realized that her sister was right. “What’s that little freak done now?”

Shaking with barely contained fury, Wynonna stepped closer until she was toe to toe with Mercedes.

“Take it easy, Earp,” Dolls warned her.

“No. I’m done playing nice,” Wynonna said. She looked Mercedes squarely in the eye. “Your brother has kidnapped my sister, Mercedes. If you were ever my friend, you’ll help me find them.”

Mercedes blinked twice and covered her mouth with her hand. Wynonna’s hopes sank at her friend’s reaction. Mercedes had no idea where Tucker was. None of the Gardener siblings had ever been especially close, but Mercedes and Tucker had always actively hated each other. Wynonna had known that coming here was a long shot, but she hadn’t known what else to do. And she had to do something.

“Look, Ms. Gardener,” Dolls said. “If there’s anything that you can tell us that might lead to your brother’s location, you need to let us know now. Waverly Earp’s life might depend on it.”

Mercedes shook her head vehemently. “I have no idea where he is. I swear, Wynonna! I don’t know anything!”

Wynonna sighed and rubbed her face wearily. “I know. I’m sorry about busting in here like this. But he has my sister. He has Waverly.”

“I might know where he is. But how can you be so sure it’s him?” Beth asked. “It’s not like there’s a shortage of people in this town who aren’t overly fond of the Earps.”

Wynonna glared up at her. She didn’t know Beth well, but she remembered that the middle Gardener had always protected and made excuses for her younger brother. She took a step towards the bottom of the staircase and briefly visualized dragging Beth Gardener downstairs by the collar of her ridiculously old fashioned dress. Dolls grabbed her arm, preventing her from turning her vision into reality.

“Dolls, if she knows something, I will pummel it out of her if I have to,” Wynonna muttered loudly enough so that she was sure Beth could hear her threat.

“If you start pummeling her, she won’t tell us anything, and we’ll be no closer to finding your sister,” Dolls countered.

Wynonna rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. “Fine. Do you have a better idea?”

“Actually, I do,” Dolls said after a momentary pause.

He turned to Mercedes. “Ms. Gardener, it would be in your best interest to get your sister to cooperate. Otherwise, Black Badge might be forced to freeze your assets, subpoena all of your financial records and tie you up in a lengthy court battle. You wouldn’t see another dime of the family fortune until you were old and grey.”

Mercedes shrugged. “I don’t care about the money. I never cared about it. But I do want to help you find Waverly. And if it means getting my freak show of a brother put away for good, then that’s just a bonus.”

She looked up at her sister. “Whatever you think you know, spit it out.”

“Or you’ll do what, exactly?” Beth challenged her.

“Or I will kick you out of this house and cut you off without another penny, for starters,” Mercedes said. “And considering that you have all the self-reliance of a wet sponge, I don’t think you’d survive very long outside your sheltered little existence.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed, and Wynonna worried that she might stay silent out of spite.

“Beth, please,” she begged softly. “You might not like me or my family, but I know you can see what a monster your brother is. He tried to kill a cop. He probably killed the guy that helped him. Help us stop him before he hurts anyone else.”

Beth made a face and let out a theatrical sigh. “Whatever. I’ll tell you. But only because you’re starting to bore me. Honestly, Wynonna. I thought you had more spirit than this.”

A low growl started in the back of Wynonna’s throat and her hands balled into fists. Beth Gardener, you have no idea who you’re messing with, she thought as she struggled to restrain herself. You’re lucky I’m more interested in finding my sister, or I’d teach you a lesson. One you’d never forget.

Beth seemed to sense Wynonna’s building rage, and she grudgingly relented.

“There’s a cabin,” she began, drawing out her fun for as long as she could. “Hidden away in the mountains. It supposedly belonged to our great-grandfather. Tucker mentioned it once, a few years ago. He said it would be a good place to go and think about things.”

“Where is it?” Dolls asked, scribbling on a notepad. “An exact location would be helpful.”

Beth merely shrugged.

“I know what she’s talking about,” Mercedes said. “But I’m not even sure this place really exists. If it does, then no one’s been up there in decades. Our father used to say it was just an old family legend.”

Dolls raised a curious eyebrow. “Why a family legend?”

“The Gardener name wasn’t exactly built on being fine, upstanding citizens,” Mercedes explained with a sardonic laugh. “Our great-grandfather was a smuggler, a bootlegger and probably a thief. Supposedly, he stashed all of his loot at that cabin, or so the story goes. He had quite the criminal enterprise once upon a time. But apparently if you wave enough money around, all of your sins are eventually forgiven.”

“Unless you’re an Earp,” Wynonna said, sighing heavily. “In that case, your family’s sins just keep coming around to bite you in the ass for eternity.”

She shook her head. Wallowing in self-pity would get her nowhere, and she couldn’t afford to waste anymore time. Wynonna waved a hand towards the stairs, directing Mercedes to lead the way.

“Show me your brother’s room. Maybe the little shit left something there.”

As they reached the second floor landing, Dolls paused to examine a painting hanging on the dark wood-paneled wall. In it, a secluded cabin was barely visible, nestled back amongst a stand of tall, looming pines. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully before turning to Beth, who was peering over his shoulder.

“Any idea who painted this, or when?” He asked.

“No clue,” Beth replied with an indifferent sniff. “It isn’t signed or anything. Probably completely worthless.”

He gave her a tight-lipped, dangerous smirk. “Then I guess you won’t mind if we take it with us when we’re through here.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t care. I’m bored and I have a headache, so I’m going to go lie down. Try not to make too much noise while you’re ripping Tucker’s room apart. I’d hate to have to make a formal complaint to the sheriff.”

She retreated into one of the other bedrooms and shut the door behind her.

“What’s her deal?” Wynonna asked, scowling after her.

“Who knows?” Mercedes replied. “She probably just needs to take one of her happy pills.”

The eldest Gardener sister stopped at the end of the hall, hesitating outside a closed door. Her hand gripped the polished brass knob tightly.

“Mercedes?” Wynonna regarded her friend curiously.

“It’s just...no one ever goes into Tucker’s room. No one,” Mercedes explained.

“You’re afraid of him,” Dolls observed.

He gently placed his own hand over hers, moving it aside.

“It’s okay, Ms. Gardener. You’ll be safe once we have him in custody. He’ll never be able to hurt you again.”

Dolls twisted the knob and pushed open the door cautiously. With a sharp jerk of his head, he motioned for Wynonna to move inside while Mercedes lingered in the hall.

Tucker Gardener’s bedroom was scrupulously neat and completely devoid of any personal touches. There were no posters on the walls. No family photos. No trophies or certificates to be proudly displayed. There was only a narrow twin bed and an antique rolltop desk.

“I’ll take the desk. You take the closet,” Wynonna said. “Let me know if you find any actual skeletons in it.”

Please don’t let this be full of weird bones or creepy dead animal parts, she prayed silently as she began to lift the top of the desk. Instead of demonic offerings, she only found stacks of precisely arranged spiral notebooks. She took one off the top and began to thumb through it, growing cold at the sight of her sister’s name. The top of the page was dated only two days ago.

Waverly’s still at the hospital crying over that bitch of a cop. Why can’t she see she’s being corrupted? Why doesn’t she understand how wrong this is? I need to show her. I should’ve made sure that bitch was dead.

Wynonna threw the first notebook aside and grabbed another, this one from the bottom of the pile. Again, it was filled with his observations of Waverly.

“My god,” she breathed. “He’s been watching her for years. Why didn’t I see it?”

You didn’t see it because you weren’t even here, her guilty conscience reminded her. You ran away and left your baby sister to fend for herself, remember? Behind her, Wynonna heard the scrape of metal hangers being pushed aside.

“Uh, Wynonna? You need to see this.”

She joined Dolls in front of the open closet and found herself staring at a wall of photographs. Almost all of them pictures of Waverly. There was teenaged Waverly, cheering at a high school football game. Waverly and Champ, dancing at the prom.

A sick feeling continued to build as she scanned the wall. There was a picture of her and Waverly, outside Shorty’s, taken only a day or two after she had returned to town. But the pictures that filled her with the most dread were the ones of Waverly and Nicole. In those, Nicole’s face had been crossed out, or in some cases, cut out entirely.

“Dolls, get some people in here to collect all of this,” Wynonna said, waving her hand at Tucker’s wall of stalker-y handiwork.

“On it,” Dolls acknowledged, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“Wynonna, I-I didn’t know,” Mercedes stammered, still watching from the doorway.

“Yeah. Me neither,” Wynonna replied. “When this is over, we’ll form an Oblivious Sisters Club. I’ll be the goddamn president.”

Wynonna brushed past her and hurried back down the stairs. She was almost to the front door before Dolls caught up to her, clutching the painting from the hallway under his arm.

“Hold up, Wynonna,” he said, grabbing her shoulder. “Where are you even going? What’s your next move?”

She jerked free from his grasp and spun to face him.

“We need to find that damn cabin, Dolls! And we need to find it now! You have any bright ideas on how to do that?”

“Yeah. I do. But first we need to head back to the station, and we’re gonna need this,” he said, holding up the painting.

After a few quick instructions to Mercedes, he was out the door and bounding down the porch steps towards his parked SUV.

“What are you waiting for, Earp? Let’s go!” Dolls called out over his shoulder.

Wynonna followed him silently, turning back for a final look at the Gardener mansion. The sun had gone down, and the moon was partially obscured by the clouds that scudded across the night sky, casting the immense house in a shadowy gloom. A flicker of motion from above caught her eye, and she looked up to find Beth Gardener staring down at her from a second-story window.

Wynonna glared back at her. She’d never liked this house or the majority of the family that resides in it. She’d always found it, and them, cold and imposing as they loomed over her with an air of entitlement and superiority. Now though, it was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing the true evil that had lurked within. Tucker Gardener, that sick little asshole, had been stalking her sister for years, and no one in the whole goddamn town had possessed the balls to do anything about it. That was about to change. When she was through with him, Tucker would never be able to terrorize anyone ever again.

Wordlessly, she climbed into the waiting SUV and settled into her seat.

“You alright?” Dolls asked her, concern in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she answered bleakly. “Just drive, Dolls. We’ve got a cabin to find.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Snow was beginning to fall in earnest by the time Wynonna and Dolls reached the Purgatory Sheriff’s Station, and despite her heavy fleece-lined winter coat, Wynonna shivered against the chill. Again, she wondered if Waverly was warm enough. Tucker was crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. Surely, he had enough sense to make sure her sister wouldn’t die of exposure. Right?

She was still contemplating that thought as she climbed out of the hulking SUV. Consequently, she didn’t see the headlights careening towards her, approaching much too fast.

“Wynonna, look out!”

Dolls yanked her aside, narrowly keeping her from being hit by the sheriff’s department cruiser that was now haphazardly stopped on the curb. One of Nedley’s deputies was either really drunk or seriously needed to take a new driving test.

Cursing under her breath, Wynonna stomped towards the driver’s side door. The glare from the streetlights overhead kept her from being able to see through the car’s windows, and Wynonna had no idea who she would find when she flung open the door. She certainly didn’t expect to find Nicole, slumped half-conscious over the steering wheel.

“Holy shit, Haught!” She exclaimed, her eyes wide and fearful.

“Wynonna? Waverly’s...in trouble. Have to find Tucker...” Nicole mumbled, lifting her head weakly.

Wynonna reached into the car and slid her arm around Nicole’s shoulders, gently easing her out of the driver’s seat. The feverish heat radiating from the officer worried her, and she exchanged a glance with Dolls as he came over to help.

“I know, I know,” he said, slinging one of Nicole’s arms around his neck and lifting her easily. “Let’s just get her inside.

Sheriff Nedley was talking to the officer at the front desk when they burst through the door. His face paled at the sight of his deputy cradled in Dolls’ arms, and he set his mug down so quickly that its contents sloshed over the sides.

“We found her outside,” Wynonna blurted loudly, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Bring her into my office,” Nedley directed. “I’ll call for an ambulance.”

At that, Nicole began to struggle, forcing Dolls to set her down. She swayed unsteadily before bracing herself against the counter, and she shook her head stubbornly.

“No. No ambulance. I’m not going back to the hospital,” she said.

Wynonna laid the palm of her hand against Nicole’s forehead.

“You’re burning up, Haught. No pun intended.”

Nicole blinked, trying to clear her head. “I don’t care, Wynonna. I’m not going back to the hospital. Not until Waverly’s safe. And if you try to make me, I’ll just leave again.”

At that moment, Doc Holliday sauntered into the outer office, alerted by the familiar voices. Tipping his hat and flashing a disarming grin, he offered Nicole his hand and tilted his head towards the BBD offices.

“Officer Haught, I am delighted to see you up and on your feet. Perhaps you could all join us back here, as Jeremy has found something he wishes to share.”

Without waiting for an answer, Doc slid a strong arm around Nicole’s waist and guided her down the hall. Wynonna and Nedley followed them, as Dolls returned to his vehicle to retrieve the painting he’d taken from the Gardener mansion.

“Did you guys bring me anything new?” Jeremy asked without looking up as they entered, his attention focused on the laptop in front of him. “Please tell me it isn’t another phone. I really don’t want to look at another phone today or like, ever.”

“Nope. No phones,” Nicole answered him as she collapsed into one of the chairs lining the conference table.

Jeremy’s head popped up and his eyes widened at the sound of her voice.

“Whoa! Nicole, hey! You look...not so good.” He winced. “Shit. Sorry. I mean...”

“It’s okay, Jeremy,” Nicole said. “I’ve definitely had better days. Doc said you have something to show us?”

“Uh, not show you, exactly.” Jeremy fidgeted, rubbing at the back of his head. “More like something you should hear. Well, I mean...maybe you shouldn’t hear it? Because it might be kinda...I don’t know...upsetting?”

While Jeremy was stammering out his explanation, Wynonna took the opportunity to pull Doc aside.

“What the hell, Henry? Look at her!” Wynonna gestured towards Nicole’s back. “She can barely stand up. She needs an actual doctor.”

“On that, at least, we are agreed,” Doc replied. “And I would transport her there myself, if I thought she would stay. Under the circumstances, though, wouldn’t it be better to have her here? Where we can all keep an eye on her?”

Wynonna lightly smacked his chest with the back of her hand.

“Don’t do that,” she said. “I hate when you start making sense. Neither one of us is drunk enough for that right now.”

“No, we most certainly are not,” Doc agreed, smiling as the ice that had been between them began to melt.

The office door opened and Dolls entered. He set the painting on the table, ignoring the curious glances.

“Did I miss anything?” He asked, glancing at Wynonna and Doc.

“Hey! You guys wanna shut up and come listen to this?” Rosita called out, waving them over to the end of the table where Jeremy had his equipment set up.

They all gathered around the open laptop. Jeremy nodded at the painting that Dolls had brought.

“Is that for me? Because I’m more of a modern art kind of guy. Landscapes aren’t really my thing.”

“Later, Jeremy,” Dolls told him sternly. “First, show us what you’ve got.”

The BBD scientist nodded excitedly. “Okay, so I found part of an audio file on Waverly’s phone. It looks like she managed to record it just before she tossed her phone out the window. It took me forever to restore the file. I had to try all these different algorithms...”

An exasperated sigh from Wynonna interrupted him.

“Right. No one cares about the math. Get on with it, Jeremy,” he continued. “So anyway, I was able to clean up a few seconds of the recording. I don’t know if it’ll help or not, but it’s something.”

He hit a few keys on the laptop, and suddenly, Waverly’s voice filled the room, followed by Tucker’s unmistakable deadpan, expressionless drone.

Waverly: Tucker, please. You don’t want to do this.

Tucker: Don’t tell me what I want. You have no idea what I want. But I’m going to teach you. Once I get you out of here and away from all these bad influences. We’ll go someplace warm. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Now get rid of that phone.

Waverly: Ow! Tucker, you’re hurting —

The recording ended with a loud clatter and a crunch as the phone hit the pavement. Jeremy looked around the room, taking in everyone’s stunned, silent faces. He lowered his head.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could’ve found more,” he mumbled.

“You did just fine, Jeremy,” Dolls reassured him, squeezing his shoulder. “Now we know that Tucker’s plan is to take her somewhere warm.”

“And how exactly does that help us?” Doc asked.

“Because if he intends to take Waverly out of the country, then he has to have a plane. Which means we can check with all the private airfields in the area and see if anyone’s chartered a plane recently.” Dolls explained.

“The snowstorm works to our advantage, too.” Nedley said. “Nobody’s going anywhere in this weather. That buys us a little more time.”

Nicole slammed the side of her fist against the table, startling them all.

“Time for what, exactly?” She asked angrily. “We still have no clue where he is or what he’s done with Waverly!”

Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingers to her temples and tried to massage away her headache. Waverly’s voice, crying out in pain, echoed through her skull. That, combined with the cold reality of hearing Tucker and his madness, were more than she could stand. Gritting her teeth, Nicole rose and took two stumbling steps towards the door before her knees buckled. She would have fallen if Wynonna hadn’t been there to catch her.

“Take it easy, Nicole. Where do you think you’re going?” Wynonna asked, helping her back into her chair.

“I need to go talk to his sisters. There has to be something they can tell us.”

“Way ahead of you there,” Wynonna told her. “Dolls and I were just on our way back from the Gardener house when you almost ran us over.”

Nicole stared up at her impatiently. “Why didn’t you tell me that? What did you find out?”

“There might be a cabin somewhere up in the mountains.” Wynonna said. “Mercedes didn’t know where it was, but it’s gotta be worth looking into, right?”

Nicole groaned and buried her head in her hands. “Jesus, Wynonna. I was just up there. That’s where I found her jeep. I could’ve been there by now!”

Wynonna crouched down in front of her. “Don’t see how. You didn’t even know where to look. And driving around in the dark, looking for a needle in a haystack, wasn’t going to get you anywhere.”

“I can’t just sit here though. I have to do something,” Nicole whispered, her fists clenching and unclenching reflexively. “It’s Tucker. You know what kind of a monster he is. And if he lays one finger on her...”

“Then you’ll have to get in line. Behind me,” Wynonna said, gripping both of Nicole’s hands in her own. “Look, I know we haven’t always agreed on everything, especially where Waverly’s concerned. But I know you love her, and that she loves you. And that makes you family, as far as I’m concerned, so I need you to start taking care of yourself too.”

Nicole started to speak, but Wynonna cut her off.

“You listen to me, Haught. We are going to find her, and she is going to be fine. Okay?”

Nicole swallowed hard and nodded, allowing herself to believe.

“Now seriously,” Wynonna continued. “If you won’t go to the hospital, then I need you to sit here and try to get some rest. You’re no good to Waverly if you can barely stand up. I promise, once we figure out where they are, you and I will lead the charge together. Scout’s honor.”

Nicole tilted her head skeptically at the two fingers that Wynonna had solemnly raised.

“Wynonna, I’m pretty sure you were never a Scout.”

“Fine. Juvenile delinquent’s honor, then,” Wynonna said with a cheeky grin.

In spite of herself, Nicole grinned back and they both started to laugh. After a few seconds, she realized that her laughter was on the verge of turning into tears, and she fought to keep her emotions in check.

“Hey. Uh-uh. Nope,” Wynonna said, squeezing her hands. “Don't go there, Nicole. And don't you dare start crying on me. If you cry, then I'm gonna cry, and everybody's gonna see us both crying. And we've both got reputations for badassery to maintain.”

“Quit talking about my ass, Wynonna,” Nicole quipped as she tried to blink her tears away. “Or I might have to tell your sister that you’ve been checking me out.”

“Ha. You wish, Haughtstuff,” Wynonna shot back, relieved by the break in the tension. “Now rest. That's an order. Waverly will kill me if I let anything happen to you. And honestly, if you go and die on me, I'll find some kind of spell and resurrect you just so I can kill you myself.”

“Okay,” Nicole agreed, finally relenting. “But you have to let me help. At least a little bit.”

Wynonna’s eyes narrowed as she regarded the woman in front of her, teetering on the edge of exhaustion.

“What did you have in mind?” She asked cautiously.

Nicole looked around the room at the others and locked eyes with Nedley.

“I need you guys to go to the town archives and bring back all of the property deeds for the last hundred years, or so. If this cabin exists, then there has to be a record of it somewhere.”

Nedley returned her steady gaze with a stern look that Waverly half-jokingly referred to as his “Dad stare”.

“Fine. I’ll go,” he grumbled, pointing a finger at his deputy. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten about what you did to one of your fellow officers. When this is all over, you and I are going to have a conversation, Nicole.”

Nicole nodded sheepishly, and after a heavy sigh, Nedley led Doc and Rosita out of the office in search of the requested documents.

“Wouldn’t it be easier to search through the digital archives?” Jeremy asked.

“Sure,” Nicole replied. “But it sounds like this place doesn’t show up in the official Gardener family holdings, or Mercedes would’ve known about it. So I doubt it would be in the computer records either.”

“Besides, Jeremy, I have another assignment for you,” Dolls said, sliding the painting across the table towards the scientist. “Pull up all the topographic maps of the area and see if you can find anything that matches the terrain in this painting.”

Groaning a bit as her knees protested, Wynonna pulled herself to her feet and moved to the other side of the table. She picked up the painting and examined it closely, squinting at the cabin depicted on the canvas.

“You think this is the place?” She asked, glancing up at Dolls with an unconvinced frown.

The deputy marshal shrugged. “I think it’s worth checking out. The more information we have, the better off we’ll be. If we can find this place on a map, at least we’ll have some idea of what we’re walking into.”

Nicole watched the three of them, huddled around Jeremy’s laptop. They had solid leads to follow now, and they were getting closer to finding answers. She could feel it. But their progress was agonizingly slow, and every part of her itched to be moving. To be doing something that would bring her nearer to Waverly, instead of sitting here, waiting.

There had been pain and fear in Waverly’s voice, along with indignation and just a hint of anger. Nicole allowed herself a tiny smile. An angry Waverly could definitely be a force to be reckoned with. Her smile faded as she remembered finding her girlfriend’s jeep and the blood splashed inside it.

It hadn’t been a lot of blood — probably not enough to indicate any kind of life-threatening injury or anything. But it meant that Tucker had done something to hurt her. And if he was willing to hurt her, did that mean he was capable of doing more? Of course he is, she reminded herself. He tried to kill you. He’s capable of anything.

That thought did nothing to ease her mind, and Nicole was grateful for the distraction when Doc and Rosita returned to the office. Each of them carried an armload of heavy, leather-bound ledgers. Rosita set hers down on the edge of the table and reached into her pocket for the bottle of water she had tucked there.

“Here, drink this,” she said, offering the bottle to Nicole.

“What? Was the coffeemaker not working?” Nicole asked, feeling an acute need for a caffeine boost.

From her other pocket, Rosita produced two small white pills and slapped them down on the table in front of Nicole.

“You have a raging fever and you look like shit,” Rosita informed her bluntly. “You don’t need coffee. You need to hydrate. Now, take those and drink.”

With an exasperated eye roll, Nicole popped the pills into her mouth and took a long swallow of water. She was thirstier than she’d realized, and she quickly drained half the bottle. Rosita was watching her, one eyebrow raised pointedly.

“Okay, fine. You were right,” Nicole admitted. “Thank you.”

She jumped slightly in her chair, waving a hand through the small cloud of dust produced as Doc dropped his armful of books on the table. He gave her a crooked, apologetic grin.

“The sheriff said to tell you that he has official business to attend to. Something about ‘forensics’,” Doc said. “But he believes you might find what you’re looking for in these books.”

Nicole grabbed the first heavy ledger from the pile and dragged it towards her. Its pages were brittle and yellowed with age, and she handled them gingerly as she leafed through the entries, searching for anything that mentioned the Gardener name. Beside her, Rosita took a seat and began to do the same.

“Aren’t you going to help us?” Nicole asked, looking up at Doc.

The gunslinger shifted uncomfortably and rubbed at the back of his neck.

“Research really isn’t my area of expertise,” he explained. “Perhaps there is some other way I could offer assistance?”

Rosita snorted and shook her head, while Nicole just stared at him blankly. Defeated, Doc sank into a chair and extended his hand.

“Very well. Research it is, then,” he said with a sigh. “Hand me one of your infernal books.”

For the next hour, the three of them read together in silence, the only sound was the flipping of pages. At the other end of the table, Wynonna, Dolls and Jeremy continued their quest to find a map that resembled the painting from the Gardener home.

Nicole’s eyelids drooped and her head began to dip forward as fatigue finally started to overtake her. Moving almost on autopilot, she turned a page and stared at it numbly for several seconds before she fully comprehended what she was seeing. There, in the book in front of her, was an entry with the name Marcus Gardener printed in neat letters. The page also contained not only a precise location of the cabin, but also sketches of both the interior and exterior of the building.

She blinked rapidly, scarcely daring to breathe in case her discovery turned out to be nothing more than a fevered hallucination. When the images didn’t dissolve like a mirage, hope soared in her chest.

“You guys?” Nicole’s voice was hoarse, and she cleared her throat before continuing. “I don’t want to get everyone’s hopes up, but I think I found it.”

An excited hum ran through the room as the others all gathered around her to look at the information she’d uncovered. Nicole leaned back in her chair and barely heard their chatter. All of her attention and energy was focused on the next step. They had a location, and they would find Waverly there. She was sure of it. I found you Tucker, you son of a bitch, she exulted silently. Hang in there just a little bit longer, Waves. I’m coming to get you.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Waverly sat on the couch, every muscle tense and ready to flee or to fight. She tugged at the high, scratchy collar of the ankle-length wool dress that her captor had provided. Tucker sat across from her in an armchair, intently watching her as the flames from the fireplace threw macabre shadows across his face. Between them, on a low table, a plate of sandwiches sat untouched.

They had been sitting in complete silence for several minutes, though it had felt like hours. The only sounds came from the crackle and pop of the fire, or the scrape of tree branches against the roof. Outside, the blizzard had begun to subside from a swirling maelstrom to a steady snowfall that continued to blanket the landscape in white.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Tucker’s voice pierced the stillness, and Waverly twitched slightly. She wondered if he had noticed, but his stone-like, impassive face gave no indication. She glanced at the food and her stomach growled loudly. The last thing she remembered eating was a package of Twizzlers, and that had been hours ago. Hours? Or was it days? She still had no real sense of how much time had passed since this particular nightmare had begun.

Tucker leaned forward and pushed the plate towards her. The reflection of the firelight danced in his glasses, reminding Waverly of a revenant. But Tucker was scarier and more dangerous than any revenant she had ever faced. In fact, she decided, Nicole had been right all along. Tucker Gardener was the absolute worst.

“You need to eat, Waverly,” Tucker said, gesturing towards the sandwiches. “I made them myself. Peanut butter and honey, just the way you like them.”

His tone had hardened, and Waverly knew instinctively that refusing wasn’t an option. Plastering on a grateful smile, she picked up one of the small white squares and raised it to her lips, stopping before taking an actual bite.

“You know my favorite sandwich?” She asked, cringing inwardly at the implication.

Tucker settled back into his chair, plunging his face into shadow once more. He smiled at her indulgently, as if she were a small child.

“Of course I do. I know everything about you. I know your favorite food. How you brush your hair. The way you need at least four blankets in order to sleep at night. Everything.”

Waverly blanched. He couldn’t know all of those things about her unless he had actually been inside the house, watching her as she slept. Her skin crawled as she wondered what else he had seen.

“How...how do you know all of that? Have you been spying on me?” She asked, her voice rising in indignation.

Tucker frowned. “No. It’s not like that. You make it sound so dirty. That’s your sister’s doing. She’s the one that makes everything dirty.”

He was breathing harder, and his fingers dug into the arms of his chair as his entire body trembled with rage.

“I-I’m sorry,” Waverly said, alarmed by his anger. “I didn’t meant to upset you. Honest.”

“It’s not dirty,” Tucker repeated insistently. “You need to understand why I’ve done all of this. It’s for you, Waverly. It’s all been for you.”

Keep him talking and stay on his good side. That’s what Dolls would say, Waverly knew. As long as you keep him talking, you’re the one in control. She took a deep breath and feigned interest in Tucker’s warped explanations.

“Maybe if you told me everything, maybe then I could really get how much you’ve done for me,” she said. “I want to understand it, Tucker. Really.”

Tucker gave her a shy, almost uncertain smile. Reaching out suddenly, he took a sandwich from the table and slowly tore it in half. He regarded Waverly curiously, a distant look in his eyes.

“Do you remember the first time we had these sandwiches together?”

Waverly shook her head. She searched her memories but couldn’t remember ever sharing anything with Tucker.

Tucker took a bite from his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before launching into his tale. When he had been in the second grade, his parents had neglected to pack him a lunch. It hadn’t been the first time that they had forgotten their youngest child. Waverly had found him crying on the playground, and instead of ignoring him or laughing at him like most of the other kids, she had offered him half of her own lunch.

“Half a peanut butter and honey sandwich, an oatmeal cookie and a handful of grapes,” Tucker told her. “It was the best lunch I’d ever had in my whole life.”

Waverly said nothing. Under different circumstances, she might have felt sympathy for him as he recounted his story of the sad little boy he’d once been. But he’d become a monster, and now she couldn’t see him as anything else but that.

“You were always so nice to me, Waverly,” Tucker continued. “No one else was ever nice to me. No one else ever seemed to notice me at all. But you always said hi whenever you saw me.”

Waverly was stunned. She always said hello to everyone. It was kind of her thing. Even as a child, she had mastered the art of the smile-and-wave. She never expected that anyone would take such a basic friendly gesture and twist it the way that Tucker obviously had.

As Tucker went on, she realized that his obsession had started innocently enough. He had started following her home from school, just so that she would wave goodbye to him from her front porch. But then, something had changed.

“I started to notice that you were unhappy,” he said. “Every time Wynonna ran away or came back, you would get sad and quiet. Then, one day I was outside your house when I heard you fighting with her. You told her you wished she would leave and never come back.”

Waverly remembered that day. She’d been twelve and Wynonna had just come back from god-knows-where after being gone for months. Her sister had been fighting with Gus and Uncle Curtis all day, and Waverly had finally gotten tired of all the yelling. She had stormed out to the porch, shouting at Wynonna. Everything was fine before you came home! I wish you would just go away and never come back! The next morning, Wynonna was gone and Waverly had cried nonstop for two whole days.

“You were there,” she whispered.

“I’ve always been there,” he said, his voice turning darker. “That was the day I realized that Wynonna was no good for you. All she ever did was hurt you and I wanted to hurt her back. For you. I couldn’t then. I was just a kid. But I promised myself that someday I would make her pay for all the pain she caused you.”

Waverly could only sit in horrified silence as he continued talking. As the years went on, he began sneaking into the house when no one was there. He would hide in her closet, watching her while she slept, slipping out before dawn to avoid detection. For your protection, Waverly, he told her as she suppressed a shudder.

“No one in Purgatory ever locks their doors. It was so easy,” he said, shrugging casually. “Although, your aunt caught me going up the stairs once. She called the cops, but I just told them that I’d heard a strange noise, and I wanted to see if everything was okay. And then my father got that useless ape of a sheriff to release me without any charges.”

Gus had never said a word about it to her, and Waverly wondered how many other secrets had been kept from her throughout the years. It seemed like no one had ever told her the truth about anything. Why did everyone seem to think she needed protecting? Poor kid, she imagined them saying. She’s just too fragile. She can’t handle knowing all these things. The thought made her grind her teeth in frustration, more determined than ever to take control of her own fate.

“Hey!” Tucker’s voice cut through her rising anger. “Are you even listening to me?”

She nodded. “Of course! It’s just...it’s a lot to process.”

He seemed satisfied by her answer. Suddenly, he rose from his chair and came over to sit beside her on the couch. Waverly could see his eyes now, and she was chilled by the glazed, faraway look in them. She scooted away as far as she could, her side pressing up against the armrest. He didn’t seem to notice.

“Do you remember what happened to Champ after the prom?” He asked suddenly.

Waverly blinked, startled by the abrupt change of subject. Tucker just stared at her, grinning proudly. She let her mind drift back to that night. She and Champ had been dating for just over a year, and even though she knew that he was seeing other girls behind her back, she had finally decided to give him what he wanted. They left the dance early, heading to the room she had rented at the Wainwright Hotel. She was nervous. Champ was drunk. The deed itself had been awkward, a little bit painful, and way less romantic than she’d imagined it. But at least it had been over quickly.

Afterwards, Champ hadn’t called her for three days. She’d been left wondering if that had been all he’d ever really wanted from her before he finally showed up at her door with a half-wilted bouquet of flowers, a mumbled apology and a vague excuse about being sick. She was afraid to ask what any of that had to do with Tucker.

“I saw Champ at the diner, after he drove you home,” Tucker informed her. “He was there with his buddies, and he was laughing. He told them everything, Waverly, and he treated it like it was just a big joke.”

His grin had vanished, replaced by an angry, disgusted scowl. Without warning, his hand shot forward, his cold, bony fingers seizing Waverly’s tender, rope-burned wrist.

“He wasn’t worthy of you,” he snarled.

Waverly tried to pull her hand away, but his grip was strong and she felt like she was caught in a vise. Trying a different tactic, she laid her other trembling hand on top of his, choking back the ripple of nausea caused by the feel of her skin against his.

“Tucker, you’re hurting me,” she said gently.

It worked. He dropped her wrist, releasing her, and she pulled her arm away quickly.

“I taught him a lesson,” he said at last, his voice returning to its usual monotone. “I walked by their table, and of course they started making fun of me. Like they always did. They thought they were so funny. While they were busy cracking each other up, I slipped something into Champ’s coffee. Just a few drops. Just enough to make him really sick.”

Waverly’s eyes widened. “You poisoned him? You could’ve killed him!”

Champ was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to be poisoned and he certainly didn’t deserve to die at the hands of a maniac. Who else had Tucker hurt because of her? As if he’d somehow heard her unasked question, Tucker went on with his disturbed romp through her memories.

“You remember Brandon Quan? He used to sit behind you in your Latin class?”

Waverly frowned, remembering a quiet boy who had never said more than two words to her. What on Earth did he have to do with this?

“He was very helpful,” Tucker continued, his eyes boring into hers. “Even in school, he had a bit of a gambling problem. But it meant that he always needed money. Which I had. In exchange for access to his grandfather’s more curious antiquities.”

Tucker reached into the front pocket of his jeans and produced a small vial, partially filled with a fine white powder. He held it up, examining it in the firelight.

“This one was supposed to be the deadliest of them all. Guess I should’ve used more of it. It’s too bad Brandon outlived his usefulness, or I might have sent him back to get more of it.”

Did I hear that right, Waverly wondered, alarmed by Tucker’s admission. Did he just say that he killed someone? He leaned towards her, his face serious and troubled, and she felt the fine hairs on her forearms stand on end as he drew nearer. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from making a sound.

“I had to do it,” Tucker explained. “I had nothing against Brandon, really, but he threatened to tell the sheriff. They would’ve kept you away from me, Waverly, and we’re supposed to be together. Who else will look out for you like I will?”

“Tucker, y-you can’t just go around k-killing people!” Waverly sputtered, unable to hold her tongue any longer. “Especially people who didn’t do anything to you!”

Tucker sprang from his seat, seething, and Waverly shrank as far back against the couch cushions as she could. The knot of fear in her stomach tightened and her pulse quickened as he towered over her.

“You haven’t been listening at all!” He accused her. “They all did something to me! They all tried to take you away from me! Wynonna, Champ, Brandon! But none of them were as bad as that cop!”

He paced back and forth in front of her like a caged animal. Waverly held her breath as he reached behind his back and drew his knife from its place in his waistband. He pointed the blade towards her, but barely even seemed to see her. His lips drew back in a snarl, baring his teeth, and tiny flecks of spit flew as he ranted.

“Who does that bitch think she is? She doesn’t even belong here! She thinks she can just come into my town and steal my girl? And I saw the way you looked at her! The way you kissed her! She made you do those things! She perverted you!”

His girl? In what stupid alternate universe does he really think I was ever his girl? Waverly’s fear was turning into anger as she endured the onslaught of his deluded tirade.

“You should’ve seen the look on her face, Waverly,” he said with a barking laugh. “When she opened the door and saw those flowers, she looked so happy. Didn’t last long though.”
He made eye contact with Waverly, finally noticing her once more. He grinned — an awful, sadistic grin that turned his face into a death mask.

“She cried out for you, you know. When she was laying there dying, clawing at her own throat. She called your name. I told her that she didn’t deserve you. That she couldn’t have you. That you were mine. Stupid bitch actually tried to get up. So I kicked her.”

Tucker’s grin vanished and was replaced by an all-too-familiar scowl.

“She was supposed to die. Why didn’t she die?” He looked at Waverly and jabbed the knife forward, stopping just inches from her face. “When I see that bitch again, I’ll make sure she’s dead this time. I’ll cut her heart out and she’ll never be able to touch you again.”

Waverly had read tales about berserkers — Norse warriors who fought in a blind, trance-like rage. Wynonna had even admitted to feeling that way once or twice when confronted by a particularly infuriating foe. But Waverly had never experienced that kind of naked, all-consuming fury. Until now.

How dare you, she thought as all of the anger and emotion she’d been suppressing began to bubble to the surface. Her balled fists pressed down into the couch cushions, the muscles in her arms rigid and shaking. You think you know me? You don’t know anything about me! Nothing that really matters, anyway. Nicole is my everything, and you almost killed her!

“I hate you,” she hissed from between clenched teeth.

Tucker stopped pacing and stared at her. Disbelief and rage battled for control across his face as her words penetrated his brain.

“What did you say to me?” Tucker asked slowly, his grip tightening around the handle of his knife.

“I hate you, Tucker! And her name is Nicole, you asshole!”

Waverly lunged from the couch, shoving her hands hard against his chest. Tucker toppled backwards over the corner of the coffee table, but with an outstretched hand, he grabbed hold of the front of her dress, pulling her down with him.

She pitched forward, twisting away from him as she fell. The side of her face struck the floor, and Waverly’s vision exploded in a burst of bright white light. Blood trickled from the cut that opened above her right eye. She scrambled to her hands and knees, trying to get to her feet, but claw-like fingers closed around her ankle, yanking her back down.

Waverly screamed. Desperately, she dug her fingernails into the bare wooden floor as Tucker dragged her backwards. He was shouting at her incoherently, one hand still gripping her ankle while the other tore at the hem of her dress as he fought to control her.

With all of her strength, she kicked her leg out behind her. Her foot caught him in the throat, and he crashed onto his back, releasing her as he gasped and wheezed. She cast a quick look over her shoulder. Still coughing, Tucker had rolled to his side, but his eyes met hers and Waverly knew she had to get out. Now.

Fire gleaming on polished steel caught her eye, and Waverly turned her head towards it. The knife. Tucker must have dropped it during their struggle, and it had slid beneath the table. She risked another glance at her captor and saw that he was looking at the weapon too.

Time seemed to slow as Waverly launched herself towards the blade. Tucker dove for it simultaneously, his upper body landing across her back, pinning her to the floor.

“I’ll kill you,” he growled in her ear. “If I can’t have you, no one will.”

He drove his elbow into her ribs, and she cried out in pain. Their outstretched arms battled for dominance as they both reached for the knife. Waverly sank her nails into his forearm, clawing bloody furrows into his skin. Muscles and tendons shook from the strain as she stretched her arm as far as it would go. Still, the weapon lay tantalizingly out of reach.

I’m going to die here, she realized, her stomach lurching at the thought. Suddenly, a strange calm washed over her, and she felt a familiar presence by her side. The unmistakable scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled her senses, and a warm, soothing breath tickled her ear. Nicole.

You can do this, baby, Nicole’s voice whispered to her. You’re so much stronger than you think you are. You always have been. Fight, Waverly. For us.

Bolstered by newfound strength, Waverly managed to draw one knee up under her, gaining just enough leverage to fling herself forward a few more inches. The unexpected movement threw Tucker off-balance, and he rolled off her as her hand found the handle of the knife. Twisting onto her back, she lifted the blade just as he lunged at her.

It was surprisingly easy. Steel parted flesh, scraping past bone. Blood flowed freely, hot and sticky, drenching her hands and the front of her dress. Mouth hanging open, eyes wide, Tucker looked down at the hilt of the blade protruding from his abdomen. His fingers clutched at it helplessly, and he tried to speak but could only manage a scarcely audible, gurgling croak.

Using the last of her strength, Waverly pushed him away and scrambled out from beneath him. Blood dripped from the cut above her eye. Her head and her ribs throbbed, and she could barely feel her right arm. Lying on her uninjured side, she watched as the life drained from Tucker’s eyes and he slumped to the floor.

She nudged his motionless body with her foot, making sure he was dead. Once she was certain, she grabbed the edge of the table with her left hand and hauled herself up, whimpering slightly as pain shot through her. She looked down at the man at her feet.

“You don’t get to hurt me or anyone else ever again,” she whispered. “Never again.”

Then, she turned her back on him, and on weak, shaky legs, she stumbled towards the front door.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Nedley entered the Black Badge offices carrying a steaming mug in one hand and a Purgatory Sheriff’s Department gym bag in the other. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he handed the bag to Nicole, and she suddenly recognized that it was hers.

“I, uh, I had someone go to your house and get you a change of clothes,” he explained. “Needed to pick up more food for that mongrel cat of yours anyway. Plus, I thought you might want to get out of that uniform.”

“Yeah, that’s what Waverly said,” Jeremy joked, snorting with laughter before being silenced by glares from both Wynonna and Nicole.

“Not the right time. Inappropriate,” he mumbled, shaking his head in apology.

Nicole softened and shot him a slight crooked smile before turning back to Nedley. She took the bag from him and unzipped it, peering at the contents inside. It would be nice to get out of Officer Clark’s uniform and into her own clothes, she decided.

“Thanks, Sheriff,” she said gratefully.

“If you’re gonna change, do it quick or we’re leaving without you,” Wynonna said impatiently.

“We believe we’ve located the cabin where Waverly is being held,” Dolls explained to the sheriff, bringing him up to speed. “We were just getting ready to head out.”

Nedley came closer and looked down at the ledger spread open on the table. He tapped the page with one finger.

“I know that area,” he said. “It’s gonna be hard to approach without being seen. And if you all thought you were going up there without me, you’d better think again.”

“Fair enough,” Dolls replied. “We’ll take whatever assistance your department can provide. As long as we’re clear that BBD is running point on this one.”

“Now, wait just a minute, Xavier—”

Nedley’s protest was cut off by an exasperated shout from Wynonna.

“Who the hell cares who’s in charge? Everybody shut up and let’s go get my sister! Nicole, go change and if you’re not ready in five minutes, I swear to God we’re leaving you behind!”

The air in the room was thick with tension, but Nicole understood that everyone was on edge because they were all worried about Waverly. Now that they knew who took her and had a good idea where she was, they were all anxious to get moving. Nicole stood and nodded at Wynonna.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, pointing a finger at her girlfriend’s sister. “Do not go without me.”

Without waiting for a response, Nicole left the office and hurried down the hall to the locker room. The pain in her head and side had faded to a dull ache, and her fatigue had lessened noticeably. In fact, she felt better than she had at any time since waking up in the hospital. She made a mental note to ask Rosita what had been in those pills.

The empty locker room smelled of stale sweat and disinfectant, and Nicole wrinkled her nose as she hurriedly stripped off the ill-fitting uniform. She dressed quickly in the clothes that had been provided — her jeans, a blue button-down shirt and a well-worn pair of boots. Also in the bag, she found her cell phone, an olive green heavy jacket, and her service weapon.

She checked her gun to ensure that it was loaded, slamming the clip home with a sharp click before tucking it carefully in her waistband. Someone banged on the door, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She was sweating lightly and she idly wondered if it was from the fever or from Rosita’s mystery drugs.

“Time’s up, Haught!” Wynonna called out from the hallway. “Let’s go!”

Nicole sighed. Her nerves were frazzled enough without having to deal with Wynonna bouncing off the walls. She closed her eyes for a moment and focused on Waverly. The way her nose crinkled when she laughed. The way her smile could light up an entire room. The way that Waverly fit perfectly in her arms. The comforting weight of Waverly’s head resting against her chest as they lay curled together, and the way her girlfriend would casually sling an arm around her waist as she tried to burrow even closer. She inhaled deeply, remembering the way the smell of Waverly’s favorite coconut-scented shampoo tickled her nose when she buried her face in her girlfriend’s hair.

When Nicole opened her eyes again, her heart ached but she was calmer. Determined, she headed for the door, pulling it open to find the rest of the group waiting for her on the other side. Brushing past Wynonna, she moved down the hall.

“What are you guys waiting for?” She called over her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Footsteps pounded behind her, and she recognized the sound of Wynonna’s boots as her friend fell in beside her, matching her stride for stride. She could feel the force of Wynonna’s stare drilling a hole in the side of her head, but Nicole resolutely kept her own eyes focused straight ahead.

“What?” She asked finally as they reached the outer doors.

Wynonna grabbed her elbow, forcing her to turn, and Nicole glared at her defiantly. She tried to yank her arm free, but Wynonna merely tightened her grip. Sensing the strain between the two women, the others stopped, maintaining a respectful distance.

“Wynonna...” Nicole began, a frustrated edge to her voice.

“Simmer down, Haughtshot,” Wynonna said in an attempt to placate her. “I just want to talk to you for a sec. Make sure you’re okay.”

“We so do not have time for this,” Nicole stated flatly.

She pulled herself loose from Wynonna’s grasp and shoved open the door, leaving the angrily muttering Earp sister trailing behind her. The frigid night air stung her face like a slap. Her eyes began to water from the cold, and she impatiently blinked away the tears as she stormed across the parking lot. Again, she sensed a presence at her side, and Nicole bit back an angry retort when she saw it was Doc, not Wynonna, who now stood beside her.

“I completely understand your need for haste,” he said, his soft drawl barely audible. “Everyone here is anxious to find Waverly and put an end to her ordeal. And I promise you, I will not rest until we’ve done just that.”

Doc paused, swallowing hard and pushing the brim of his hat back from his forehead. A wave of sympathy washed over Nicole as it dawned on her that the ageless gunslinger was taking Waverly’s absence almost as hard as she was.

“I have a score to settle with the fiend who abducted her,” he continued. “As do you, of course. As does Wynonna. My point, Officer Haught, is that we all love Waverly, and we would all move heaven and earth to ensure her safe return. And by extension, we are rather fond of you as well. We’ve all vowed to do everything in our power to make sure that no more harm befalls either one of you.”

Doc stopped when they reached his car. He smirked, his mustache twitching as a mischievous twinkle lit up his piercing blue eyes. “Besides, I believe Waverly would have our hides if we allowed anything else to happen to you, and I’ve grown rather accustomed to mine.”

It was, perhaps, the longest conversation that she and Doc Holliday had ever had together, and Nicole was deeply moved by his sincerity. He obviously blamed himself for Waverly’s disappearance, and she completely understood the guilt and regret. She blamed herself, too. I knew what Tucker was, she told herself. I knew and I should’ve stopped him before it ever went this far.

Sighing inwardly, Nicole glanced over her shoulder at Wynonna, who hovered a few steps behind them. Doc was right. They all loved Waverly, and they had all been taking turns beating themselves up over her kidnapping. Much to the gunslinger’s surprise, Nicole pulled him into a brief hug and gave him a quick peck on his stubbled cheek.

“Thank you, Henry,” she whispered.

She couldn’t help but grin at the embarrassed flush that crept up over his face.

“Thank you too, Wynonna,” she said, making eye contact with her. “Now let’s go get our girl.”

Wynonna said nothing, but her lips curled upward in an appreciative smirk. Quickly, they all piled into their respective vehicles. Jeremy volunteered to go with Doc, attempting to call shotgun before succumbing to a withering glare from Rosita. Chastened, he slid into the backseat of the red Camaro.

Brow furrowing in consternation, Nicole suddenly realized she had neither her keys nor her car. Wynonna clapped her on the shoulder, and she winced at the jolt it sent through her still tender ribs.

“Come on, Haught,” Wynonna called out, climbing into the passenger seat of Dolls’ SUV. “Ride or die, dude.”

Nicole joined them, settling back in her seat as Dolls led the caravan away from the station. Doc followed closely behind them, while Nedley brought up the rear with half the sheriff’s department in tow.

It was late, and the streets of Purgatory were virtually empty as they sped past the town limits. Nicole shut her eyes and leaned her head against the cool glass window. The reassuring weight of her gun pressed into the small of her back, and she began to prepare herself for the inevitability that she might have to use it.

Every part of her itched to put a bullet between Tucker Gardener’s eyes, and she wondered if she would be able to stop herself from doing it. Do I even want to stop myself? Part of me thinks it’ll never be over unless I put him in the ground. But how do I do that without violating my oath as an officer of the law?

It didn’t matter, she decided grimly. She was ready to do whatever she had to do to get Waverly back. And if it meant choosing between her badge and her girl, she would choose her girl. Every damn time.

“You doin’ okay back there?” Wynonna asked, twisting around in her seat.

Nicole nodded as she endured Wynonna’s probing and skeptical once-over.

“You look better. Too much better, if you ask me,” Wynonna cocked a suspicious eyebrow. “You looked like you were knocking on Death’s door a little while ago, and now you seem more or less fine. What gives?”

“Rosita gave me something. Seems like it’s doing the trick,” Nicole admitted.

Wynonna rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, and Nicole caught Dolls’ disapproving stare in the rearview mirror.

“Let me get this straight,” he said. “You took an unknown substance from a revenant biochemist with a history of cooking up experimental drugs?”

“No,” Nicole replied, choosing her words carefully. “I took medicine offered by a friend. One that saved your ass with her ‘experimental drugs,’ if I’m not mistaken.”

“Whatever,” Wynonna said, wagging a finger at her. “It was still a dumb thing to do, and you know it. Especially for someone that’s still recovering from being, you know, poisoned.”

Nicole laughed out loud. “You really think Rosita’s trying to poison me?”

“Not on purpose,” Wynonna said stiffly as she slid back down in her seat. “But accidents happen. And either way, I am sooo telling my sister.”

Nicole made a face. “Uh...you don’t really have to do that, do you?”

“Oh, I think I do,” Wynonna shot back, her amusement at the redhead’s discomfort evident.

Groaning, Nicole slumped in her seat. She could picture Waverly, arms folded, tapping her foot in annoyance. It was adorable when it was directed at Wynonna, as was usually the case. When she was the subject of that ire though, it wasn’t nearly as cute. As a matter of fact, Waverly had a knack for making her feel like a scolded puppy. Still, she would gladly face her girlfriend’s wrath if it meant she was safe.

She glanced out the window, getting her bearings as the landscape went rushing by. The storm had nearly stopped, but the fresh snowfall that blanketed everything made it hard to pick out any landmarks. The flutter of police tape up ahead caught her attention, and Nicole realized they were nearing the spot where she’d found Waverly’s jeep.

The area was empty now, except for the stakes and tape that marked off the scene. The crime scene unit was long since gone, and the vehicle itself had probably been towed back to town. Catching her reflection in the window, Nicole watched Wynonna’s expression harden as they passed.

“How much further?” Wynonna asked tersely, fiddling with the huge gun in her lap.

“There’s a turn off about ten miles up,” Dolls replied, checking the GPS unit on the dash. “It’s about another fifteen miles from there to the rendezvous point.”

Twenty-five miles. God, I was so close. Nicole kicked herself, even though the rational part of her brain told her that she couldn’t have known.

Adrenaline surged as each mile brought them closer to their destination. By the time they reached the designated rendezvous point, she felt like she’d been poked by a hundred live wires. Nervous energy coursed through her veins.

They had halted on the side of the road, half a mile from the Gardener cabin. Here, their vehicles were hidden from view by a thick grove of trees. They would approach the rest of the way on foot.

Nicole paced anxiously, her breath visible in great white puffs. She stopped in her tracks, suddenly acutely aware that everyone was staring at her. Dolls was looking at her expectantly, and she felt a flush climbing the back of her neck as she realized that she had no idea what he had said.

“Uh, sorry. What was that?”

“I asked you how you wanted to proceed, Officer Haught,” Dolls repeated.

She blinked at him, confused by the question.

“Me? Why are you asking me?”

“This is a joint BBD-PSD operation,” Dolls said in his brusque, official tone. “And since you’re the liaison between the two, seems like it makes sense for you to take the lead here.”

It made absolutely no sense. Between Dolls and Nedley, they had way more experience and authority than she did, but Nicole was touched by his gesture. She nodded, rubbing her hands together to warm them. She wanted to dash the remaining distance to the cabin, kick down the door, and empty her weapon into Tucker Gardener’s smug, self-righteous face. But that would probably just lead to a disaster, she realized, exhaling slowly.

She needed to be smart. They had no idea what waited for them in that cabin. Tucker could have motion detectors, tripwires, alarms. Hell, he could have the entire place rigged with explosives, for all they knew. And any misstep could put Waverly in even more danger.

“Okay. Here’s the plan,” she began. “We spread out and proceed to the tree line, staying out of sight from the cabin. Jeremy, you’ve got the infrared detectors, right?”

The Black Badge scientist nodded eagerly and gave her a thumbs up as he tightened the straps of his backpack.

“Good. Once we’re in range, hopefully Agent Chetri can get us a look inside. Give us an idea of what we’re dealing with. We really don’t want to go in there blind if we can help it, so we’ll reassess once we have more information. Does that sound okay?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Nicole saw Doc’s almost imperceptible nod of approval. Wynonna, though, appeared less than thrilled.

“Problem, Wynonna?” Nicole murmured as everyone began to check weapons and gear.

Wynonna let out an edgy huff. “Not exactly. It’s just...I just want to go in there and get her. You know?”

“I know,” Nicole agreed. “I don’t want to wait either. But if we don’t do this right...”

“Don’t say it,” Wynonna said emphatically. “Don’t even think it. She’s gonna be fine. And you and I are gonna flip a coin to decide who gets the first shot at the asshole who took her.”

“Deal,” Nicole replied with a deadly serious nod.

Once everyone was ready, Nicole gave a signal and they all moved cautiously into the trees. Every sense was on high alert as she scanned the ground, searching for any sign of traps that Tucker might have set for them.

The fresh snow was deep, and her jeans were soon soaked to the calf as she sank into it with every step. The blizzard had completely subsided and the sky had cleared. Moonlight filtered down through the branches, lighting their way. A twig snapped to her left, and Nicole whipped her head towards it, her grip tensing on the gun clutched in her hands. Jeremy mouthed an apology and she sighed.

The cabin came into view as they reached the edge of the grove, and Nicole held up a hand, signaling the others to stop.
A white delivery van was parked on the side of the building, but there were no signs of life anywhere. Although the house appeared completely dark, smoke rose from the stone chimney. There was definitely someone in there.

Something familiar tugged at Nicole’s heart. Waverly. She was here. Though she didn’t really understand it, Nicole could feel her. Her apprehension grew and she was hit with the overwhelming feeling that Waverly needed her. Now. She took a step forward, drawn to her girlfriend’s presence. Praying that Waverly could somehow sense her too, Nicole answered her wordless call for help. I’m here, baby. Just hold on. I’m here.

A few feet away, Jeremy fumbled through his backpack, but Nicole’s eyes stayed fixed on the cabin in front of her. A faint scraping sound broke the stillness. Someone had slowly pushed open the front door. Everyone froze, weapons drawn.

As Nicole waited breathlessly, a figure limped out onto the porch. Suddenly, triggered by the movement, floodlights flared, bathing the entire cabin in an incandescent blaze.

Wynonna sucked in a breath. “Is that —”

“Waverly!”

The shout tore itself loose from Nicole’s lips, and then she was running, sprinting towards the dazed, bloodied woman stumbling down the porch steps. Struggling through the snow behind her, Wynonna unleashed a steady stream of cursing.

Nicole’s legs burned from exertion as she closed the gap, reaching Waverly and catching her just as she staggered and fell. She lowered her to the ground, alarmed by the blood that covered Waverly’s dress and hands.

“Can you hear me, baby? Are you hurt?”

Frantically, Nicole searched for injuries but found nothing visible other than the rope burns on her wrists, a thin, shallow cut just below Waverly’s collarbone, a purplish bruise on her side, and a nastier cut above her eye. Nothing that would account for the amount of blood covering her, though. She let out a forceful breath, thankful that she didn’t find any wounds that appeared to be life-threatening.

Kneeling on the frozen ground, she stripped off her jacket, wrapping Waverly in it before gathering her up in her arms. Wynonna knelt beside them, taking one of her sister’s limp hands and lifting it to her lips.

“Come on, baby girl. Open your eyes. You’re really freakin’ me out here.”

Doc and Dolls ran past them, bounding up the steps and bursting into the cabin. They returned a moment later, guns lowered at their sides, shock and confusion on their faces.

“Is he in there?” Wynonna asked, looking up at the two men with fire in her eyes. “Is that asshole still in there?”

Doc removed his hat, staring at Waverly with a mixture of sadness and awe. Dolls shook his head.

“He’s dead. I think...It looks like she killed him.”

The deputy marshal’s words rang in Nicole’s ears, and she pulled Waverly closer, pressing a kiss to her temple. She had failed. She’d been too late, and Waverly had paid the price, forced to take someone else’s life.

“I’m so sorry, Waves. I’m so sorry you had to do that. I should’ve been here sooner.”

At the sound of her voice, Waverly’s eyelids fluttered and opened.

“Nic-Nicole?”

Relief flooded her, and the sound that wrenched itself from Nicole’s throat was half-laugh and half-sob. She smiled as Waverly reached up to caress her face.

“I’m here, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“You’re here,” Waverly repeated, her thumb gently stroking Nicole’s cheekbone. “You came for me.”

“Of course we did,” Wynonna said, squeezing her sister’s hand. “Nothing was gonna stop us from finding you. Nothing.”

“Wynonna?”

Waverly turned her head, seeing her sister for the first time. Her eyes widened and she frowned, head swiveling back to her girlfriend.

“Wait. You’re here. Why are you here? You should be in the hospital!”

Wynonna laughed, punching her sister’s shoulder lightly.

“Yep. That’s my sister. Always worried about everybody else.”

Waverly’s face fell and her eyes darted back and forth from Wynonna to Nicole. When she spoke again, her voice was hushed.

“I-I killed him. Tucker. I grabbed the knife and I just...”

Nicole shushed her, kissing her temple again, careful to avoid the cut above her eye. There would be plenty of time to talk about what had happened. For now though, she was just grateful to have Waverly safe in her arms.

Doc crouched beside them, looking Waverly squarely in the eye.

“Darlin’, you did what you had to do,” he said seriously. “It was either him or you. And I will be eternally grateful that it was you who walked out of that house of horrors.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet. I love you too, Doc.”

Waverly smiled up at him, and for the second time that night, Nicole saw the gunslinger blush.

“Well now. That is obviously the head wound talking,” he said jokingly, though emotion shone in his eyes.

Behind them, the ambulance that Nedley had on standby rolled to a stop, and two EMTs jumped out, pulling a stretcher out of the back of the vehicle. Waverly shook her head vehemently.

“No,” she protested. “I don’t wanna go to the hospital. Can’t we just go home?”

Wynonna rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

“What is it with the two of you and hospitals? I feel like we should just rent a room there permanently.”

Wynonna inspected the cut on her sister’s head. “Besides, we need to get you checked out, baby girl. That cut’s gonna need a few stitches.”

Waverly pouted. “Do you think it’ll scar?”

“Probably. But it’s okay. I’m pretty sure chicks dig scars,” Wynonna said with a wink and a glance at Nicole.

Waverly gave in and allowed the EMTs to lift her into the ambulance. Nicole hesitated outside the vehicle, looking to Wynonna. She didn’t want to leave Waverly’s side or let her out of her sight even for a moment, but she was prepared to step aside if Waverly wanted to be with her sister.

Wynonna shook her head. “Go. They probably ought to check you out too. We’ll be right behind you.”

Nicole nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance, settling on the edge of Waverly’s stretcher. Ignoring the EMT who was busy setting up an IV, she stroked Waverly’s hair, her eyes never leaving her girlfriend’s face.

“Are you okay, Waves? Tucker...”

Waverly shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. She grimaced as the needle pierced her arm.

“No,” she whispered. “I don’t want to talk about him right now. Can you just...”

She held out her hand and Nicole took it, interlacing their fingers.

“Whatever you need, baby. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You were with me, you know,” Waverly murmured sleepily. “You were there the whole time. I don’t think I would’ve survived without you there, giving me the strength to keep fighting.”

“I know the feeling,” Nicole said. “I could feel you with me too. I love you Waverly Earp. I love you so much.”

Her voice broke on the last word, but it was okay. The steady rise and fall of her girlfriend’s chest told her that Waverly had fallen asleep. As the ambulance hurtled down the highway back towards Purgatory, Nicole stared up at the ceiling and offered a silent thank you to whoever might be listening.

They had almost lost each other. For the first time, Nicole allowed that thought to really sink in. They had just gotten around to admitting the depths of their feelings for each other, and they had almost lost it all because of the actions of one sick, deluded man. She vowed never to let that happen again. No more secrets. No more wasted time. They would live every moment like it might be their last. She smiled down at Waverly through her tears, watching her sleep. And she wondered for the first time just how Waverly Earp might feel about the idea of forever.

Chapter Text

Chapter 20.1

Waverly’s ears were assaulted by unfamiliar sounds. Brisk footsteps against a concrete floor. The beep and whir of strange machines. Hushed, urgent voices whispering to each other over her head. Gradually, she began to understand that she was in the hospital.

Her eyelids felt heavy and sluggish, but she forced them open, blinking to clear her vision. The first thing she saw was the IV sticking out of her arm. Yep. Definitely in the hospital. Another sound penetrated her foggy brain, and she turned her head, groaning softly as the motion made her dizzy.

Wynonna sat beside her bed, watching her with an expression that bordered on panic. Waverly felt an odd urge to laugh. It hadn’t been long ago that she had been in this same hospital, keeping a vigil at Nicole’s bedside.

“Waverly? You in there?” Wynonna asked, smoothing a lock of hair away from her sister’s face.

“What happened?” Waverly asked, momentarily confused.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the memories came rushing back. The cabin. Tucker. A knife. A wave of nausea seized her, and she grit her teeth, willing herself not to throw up. The events of the last few days sharpened and crystallized in her mind, and she turned to her sister with stricken eyes.

“Nicole?” She whispered fearfully.

Wynonna pointed towards the other side of the bed. Waverly slowly turned her head that way and let out a small cry of both relief and concern. Nicole was fast asleep in a chair beside her bed. She was paler than normal, and although her eyes were shut, Waverly could see the dark half-moons beneath them.

“Is she okay?” Waverly asked in a hushed voice.

“I guess,” Wynonna replied with a shrug. “The doctor said she mostly just needs to rest. She wouldn’t let them readmit her, so I talked them into slipping a sedative into her IV.”

She nodded at the needle and the tubing that snaked from Nicole’s arm to a clear plastic bag hanging from a stand behind her. She grinned suddenly.

“Turns out you can get people to do just about anything if you wave around a badge and a big ass magic gun. It’s pretty damn awesome.”

Waverly gave her sister a faint grin, but her eyes never left Nicole’s face as she committed every detail to memory. Asleep, Nicole seemed peaceful and relaxed, in spite of everything that had happened to them both. Waverly let out a sad sigh, her heart aching from the knowledge that Nicole had almost died because of her. And it wasn’t even the first time, either. How many times would the woman she loved be put in danger because of her or this stupid Earp curse?

And I’m not even a real Earp. A quiet, bitter laugh escaped her lips, and tears glittered in her eyes. Her chest constricted as all of the emotions from the last few days threatened to overwhelm her.

“Hey, Wave?” Wynonna began carefully. “Are you okay? I mean...Tucker...he didn’t...”

Waverly shook her head, cutting off the question before her sister could finish asking it.

“No. Nothing like that. I swear, Wynonna.”

Reluctantly, she tore her gaze away from her girlfriend and faced her sister. Wynonna looked exhausted too, her forehead creased with worry, and Waverly understood that this nightmare had taken a toll on everyone. To reassure her sister, she smiled brightly.

“I’m fine. Really. You can quit worrying about me.”

“Never. It’s kind of my job to worry about you,” Wynonna told her firmly. “And you don’t have to fake it for me. I know you’re not fine, Waverly.”

Waverly sighed again. Sooner or later, she would have to tell her sister everything. Wynonna wouldn’t let it go until she did. But for now, Waverly just wanted to forget about Tucker Gardener and their complicated history. For now, she wanted to focus on the future. She turned her attention back to the sleeping redhead at her side.

“She was really brave, you know,” Wynonna said, taking the hint for once. “Stupid and stubborn, but brave.”

“Of course she was,” Waverly replied softly, breaking into a genuine smile. “She’s my bestest baby.”

She could practically hear Wynonna’s rolling eyes.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Wynonna said. “But you’re pretty awesome too. Don’t ever forget that. I don’t know what exactly you went through, but I know it couldn’t have been easy. But you fought and you survived. I’m so proud of you, baby girl.”

“That makes two of us.”

Waverly’s heart leapt at the sound of Nicole’s sleepy murmur, and her smile widened as warm brown eyes slowly opened and met hers. She reached out her hand and felt her entire universe click into place as Nicole took it, lacing their fingers together. This is all that matters. Not revenants. Or demons. Or sociopathic asshole stalkers. Or DNA tests. Just this.

“Hey you,” Waverly greeted her girlfriend warmly.

“Hey yourself,” Nicole replied, her thumb gently stroking the back of Waverly’s hand.

“Ugh. Gross.” Wynonna’s complaint interrupted them. “If you two are gonna make those googly eyes at each other, then that’s my cue to leave.”

Wynonna leaned down and planted a kiss on her sister’s forehead before directing an amused wink at the woman across the bed from her.

“Just remember,” she said, smirking. “You’re both still recovering. Plus, you’re in a public place. So maybe try to keep your hands off each other for a little while longer?”

“Wynonna...” Waverly and Nicole groaned in unison.

Chuckling to herself, Wynonna left the room. Almost before the door had even swung completely shut, both Waverly and Nicole began talking at once, their words tumbling over each other.

“Nicole, I’m sorry...”

“I’m so sorry, Waves...”

“Wait...”

“What...”

They stopped and stared at each other, perplexed. Nicole smiled and licked her bottom lip, a nervous habit that Waverly found utterly endearing. She looked deep into her eyes, and Waverly felt herself getting lost in the kindness and sincerity she found there.

“Let’s try this again,” Nicole suggested. “Why don’t you go first?”

Nicole was looking at her with so much love and trust, and Waverly’s courage faltered. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t tell her about all the awful things she’d been forced to say to Tucker. I told him I never wanted to see you again. That I never loved you. And he believed me. How could you ever trust me again after that?

Waverly pulled her hand away, pretending not to notice the hurt and confusion that flashed across Nicole’s face. She took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. She could feel Nicole watching her, waiting patiently for her to speak, and when she finally did, her voice was barely above a whisper.

She told Nicole everything, starting from the moment Tucker had risen up in her backseat and ending with him dead on the floor. Once she started, the words kept spilling out and she told Nicole about all of the ways that Tucker had watched her and stalked her for years. Finally, Waverly told her about all of the cruel and hurtful things she’d said.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just wanted him to leave you alone,” she explained in a trembling voice. “He kept saying he was gonna ‘finish the job’ and I thought...if he believed I hated you...he wouldn’t hurt you anymore. I was so scared he was gonna come after you again. I couldn’t let him do that. Not because of me.”

Filled with self-loathing, she turned back to face Nicole, expecting to be met with hurt, anger, maybe even disgust. She didn’t expect to find Nicole looking back at her with sympathetic and grateful tears shining in her eyes. She didn’t expect Nicole to sit on the edge of her bed and gingerly pull her into a careful embrace, mindful of both of their injuries.

“Oh, Waverly,” Nicole sighed, burying her nose in her girlfriend’s hair. “None of this was ever your fault.”

Nicole pressed her lips to the top of her head, and Waverly broke. Grabbing a fistful of Nicole’s shirt, she sobbed against her shoulder, finally letting go of all the horror and pain she’d been carrying for days. Her whole body shook with it.

Gradually, her grief subsided, and Waverly became aware of Nicole’s hand rubbing soothing circles against her back. She heard the comforting words being whispered in her ear, words that set off a fresh round of tears. She didn’t deserve the unconditional love and support being shown to her.

Even before Tucker’s reign of terror had begun, she’d been awful to Nicole. Calling her names like “control freak,” and treating her like an unwelcome annoyance around the station. All because of a stupid piece of paper.

“Why are you being so nice to me? You almost died because of me. And — and I was so mean to you. Before.”

Waverly felt a finger slide beneath her chin, tilting her head up until her eyes met Nicole’s. She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, painfully aware of how she must look. Nicole grabbed her wrist to still her, careful not to press too hard on the raw and tender skin.

“Waverly, listen to me. The only person responsible for what happened to me is Tucker. No one else. Okay?”

Nicole hesitated and seemed to search for the right words before continuing with sadness in her eyes.

“As for the other stuff. You know, before...you had every right to be angry. I never should’ve looked at those test results without your permission. And I definitely shouldn’t have hidden them from you. I’m so, so sorry.”

Nicole ducked her head and looked away, and Waverly’s heart broke again. She reached up and brushed the back of her hand against the redhead’s cheek.

“It’s...okay,” Waverly said, her voice hoarse from crying. “I mean...it’s not okay that you hid stuff from me. I know why you did it though.”

Nicole still wouldn’t look at her, anguish written plainly across her face.

“I thought I was protecting you. God, I’m so stupid,” Nicole berated herself. “You’re the smartest, strongest woman I have ever met, and you certainly don’t need me to protect you.”

Nicole stopped suddenly, and Waverly heard her suck in a ragged, horrified breath.

“Oh my God. I’m just like him. I mean, that’s what he thought he was doing, right?”

“What? No!”

Shocked, Waverly pulled away. She grabbed Nicole’s face between both of her hands, forcing her girlfriend to look at her.

“Nicole Haught, you listen to me now, okay? You are nothing like him. Don’t you dare even think that! He was...he was a monster. You could never be anything like him.”

She paused, struggling to find the right thing to say. How could she convince Nicole that she was so much more than Tucker Gardener could’ve ever hoped to be? Waverly leaned in closer until their foreheads rested together lightly.

“You are the sweetest, kindest, most considerate person I’ve ever met. You’re my everything, Nicole. And — and I need you so much. Yeah, you made a silly mistake. So did I. B-but I forgive you. Because I love you.”

At her words of forgiveness, Waverly felt the breath hitch in Nicole’s chest as her girlfriend choked back a tiny sob. She smiled as Nicole turned her head and kissed the palm of her hand.

“I love you too, Waves. Are we okay?” Nicole asked nervously, placing a gentle kiss against the inside of Waverly’s rope-burned wrist.

As an answer, Waverly slid her hand around the back of Nicole’s neck, pulling her head down and kissing her firmly. When they parted, they were both breathless and dizzy. Waverly watched, amazed by the slow dimpled grin that spread across Nicole’s face. She kissed her again, harder, forgetting temporarily that they were both injured and sitting on a hospital bed.

Reality rudely intervened as the door swung open and a nurse entered the room. Nicole pulled away first, blushing furiously. The wide-eyed and nervous young man quickly checked their vitals and disconnected Nicole’s empty IV bag before backing out of the room, stammering an apology.

“Well, I guess that’s better than being interrupted by your sister,” Nicole observed dryly once the nurse had gone.

They both looked at each other and shared a laugh. Waverly scooted to one side of the bed, making room for Nicole to stretch out beside her. Once her girlfriend had settled herself, she curled up against Nicole’s chest, sighing contentedly as strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close. Lulled by the rhythm of Nicole’s heart beating beneath her ear, she closed her eyes and began to drift back to sleep. And for the first time in days, Waverly had faith that everything was going to be okay.

_________________________________________________

Chapter 20.2

Waverly was released from the hospital the following day with a prescription for painkillers and stern words from the doctor about “taking it easy.” Her side still ached a bit, and she could feel the stitches pulling at the skin above her eyebrow, but overall she felt much better. Wynonna and Nicole both promised the doctor they would watch over her, and Waverly frowned as she realized that she was going to have to put up with their overprotective hovering for the foreseeable future.

Doc came to pick her up, insisting on driving her back to the homestead himself. She rode shotgun, while her sister and girlfriend squeezed themselves into the backseat. They were both unusually well-behaved, forgoing their customary good-natured bickering.

Suspicious and slightly grumpy, Waverly fiddled with the radio, expecting Doc to chime in with his usual complaints about her taste in music. When he didn’t, she twisted sideways in her seat, staring daggers into the side of his head until he shot a guilty glance her way.

“Okay, what gives? You guys are all acting really weird. Like, weirder than usual, even?”

“I told you she’d notice,” Nicole mumbled, yelping at the smack in the arm she got from Wynonna.

“I have no idea what you’re even talking about, baby girl.” Wynonna replied innocently.

Waverly sighed. Clearly she wasn’t going to get anywhere with the two of them, so she turned her attention to the man in the driver’s seat.

“John Henry Holliday, you tell me what’s going on. Right now.” She jerked her thumb towards the backseat. “Those two aren’t fighting. Everybody’s being super nice to me. I put on the Spice Girls radio network and you haven’t said a word! If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were all possessed!”

She paused, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized each of them in turn.

“Wait. You guys aren’t possessed, right? No one touched any mysterious black goo while I was sleeping?”

“Well, I cannot speak for anyone else, but I can assure you that no goo was touched by these hands.” Doc grinned, lifting his fingers off the steering wheel and wiggling them.

Wynonna snorted from the backseat.

“Guess that means someone didn’t get any last night,” she joked. “I’m sure Rosita’s very disappointed.”

Nicole groaned and covered her face with her hands, while Doc glanced at Wynonna in the rearview mirror. His mustache twitched, but Waverly couldn’t tell if it was from amusement or irritation.

“Now, Wynonna...you know a gentleman never kisses and tells.”

Waverly relaxed. This was a little more like it. All they needed now was Dolls adding his own peculiar dry sarcasm to the mix, and everything would be back to normal. And that’s what she wanted more than anything — to get back to something that vaguely resembled their version of “normal.”

When Doc pulled into the driveway of the Earp homestead, the first thing Waverly noticed was the row of cars parked in front. Dolls’ black SUV sat next to Wynonna’s truck. On the other side of it, there was Nedley’s Sheriff’s department vehicle. She grimaced. They’re probably here to go over my official statement. Ugh, that’s the last thing I wanted to do today.

The next thing she noticed was the cluster of people standing on the porch. Dolls and Nedley leaned up against the rail, each with a bottle of beer in his hand. Jeremy bounced up and down on the steps, holding up a sign that said “Welcome Home Waverly.” In Latin. Even Chrissy was here. The sheriff’s daughter and Waverly’s childhood best friend was standing in the doorway, chatting amicably with Rosita.

“Oh my God. They’re all here.”

Wynonna leaned over the seat and hugged her from behind.

“Of course they’re here. They all love you,” her sister told her as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not as much as me, though.”

“Or me,” Nicole added, grinning at the happy and surprised look on Waverly’s face.

“Or Haught,” Wynonna agreed.

“If we are having an everybody-loves-Waverly competition, I believe I would also be a strong contender,” Doc noted as he stopped the car parallel to the porch steps.

“Seriously, Doc. You’ve been hanging around Wynonna way too much,” Waverly said, laughing.

It felt good to laugh. Even though she knew it had only been a matter of days, it seemed like it had been forever since she had last genuinely laughed.

Doc slid out of his car and hurried around to the passenger side, opening Waverly’s door with a bow and a flourish. She shook her head at him, grinning fondly, and allowed him to help her up.

“Hey! Back off cowboy! I think that’s my job!”

Winking playfully, Nicole elbowed him out of the way and hooked her arm around Waverly’s waist, ignoring Doc’s feigned protestations. Grateful for the support and reveling in the comforting warmth of Nicole’s body next to hers, Waverly leaned her head against her girlfriend’s shoulder. Together, they climbed the steps and were instantly swallowed up by relieved and joyful hugs from their makeshift family.

“You guys, I’m freezing my boobs off out here! Let’s move this party inside where it’s warm and there’s whiskey!”

Wynonna grabbed her sister’s hand and dragged her inside the house. She deposited Waverly on the couch and pushed Nicole down beside her.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Wynonna made a beeline for the kitchen, returning a moment later with a cup in each hand and a bottle of bourbon tucked under her arm. She handed the first steaming cup to Waverly.

“Here. Since you two aren’t allowed to have a proper drink yet. Herbal tea for you. Blech.”

“You made tea?” Waverly asked, surprised.

Wynonna’s eyebrows shot upwards.

“Are you kidding me? Of course not. I texted Chrissy when we were on our way so she would have it ready when we got here.”

She handed the second cup to Nicole, who sniffed it suspiciously.

“Relax, Haughtcakes. It’s just ginger ale. Get it? Ginger ale? You know, ‘cause you’re a ginger?”

Wynonna doubled over, laughing at her own joke. A fluffy orange blur darted past their feet and scrambled up the stairs.

“Uh, Wynonna?” Nicole frowned, her eyes following the animal’s path. “Was that my cat? Why is my cat here?”

“Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention that?” Wynonna paused to take a lengthy swallow of bourbon. “You’re moving in. At least for a while. This way, I can keep an eye on both of you.”

“Oh, wait!”

Wynonna’s eyes went wide and she dashed into her bedroom, returning with a black plastic case.

“Check it out! Dolls got me these fancy noise-canceling headphones.”

She waggled her eyebrows suggestively and made a series of vaguely pornographic hand gestures.

“So if you two feel the need to get a little freaky later...”

Smirking proudly, Wynonna ducked the throw pillow that Waverly flung at her head. She flipped her middle finger at them and winked before sauntering off to join the rest of the party.

Waverly turned to Nicole, noticing the embarrassed flush that colored her cheeks, and she wondered if her own face was as red. She took Nicole’s hand, smiling down at the way their fingers seemed to automatically link themselves together.

“Are you...okay with all this?” Waverly asked.

“Am I okay with all this?” Nicole repeated slowly, as if she didn’t understand the question.

“Well, yeah. It’s not like anyone asked you if you wanted to move in here. Maybe you don’t want to live together right now. Or ever, even. We totally don’t have to live together. If that’s not what you want. I mean, it’s too soon right? Or maybe — mmph.”

Waverly’s nervous babbling was cut off by Nicole’s lips pressed against hers. An insistent tongue traced her lower lip, drawing a soft moan from her before sliding triumphantly into her mouth. She gasped, breathless, as the kiss grew even deeper.

When they broke apart, Nicole was looking at her with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and Waverly felt the first stirrings of desire gathering. She swallowed hard, aware that the dryness of her mouth was mirrored by a definite pooling of wetness elsewhere.

“Um. Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” Waverly whispered reluctantly, glancing sideways at the room full of increasingly intoxicated people.

“Mmm. Probably not,” Nicole agreed, nuzzling against the side of Waverly’s exposed neck.

Waverly was uncomfortably aware that they were making out on the couch like a pair of horny teenagers. Also, their friends and family were just a few feet away, and although she loved them all dearly, there were some things she really didn’t want to share with them.

“Maybe we should move this upstairs,” Nicole suggested helpfully.

“You don’t think they’ll notice we’re gone?”

Nicole cocked her head to one side, regarding Waverly with an amused grin.

“Do you really care if they do?”

Waverly couldn’t tear her eyes away from Nicole’s lips, and all she could think about was kissing her again. Decision made, she jumped up and seized Nicole’s hand, leading her up the stairs.

Once they reached her bedroom, she shut the door tightly, locking it as an afterthought. Her sometimes oblivious sister had a talent for really poor timing, and Wynonna definitely didn’t need to see this.

Behind her, Nicole wrapped her arms around Waverly’s waist and gently pulled her back against her own body. Soft, warm lips brushed against her neck again, and a hand slid beneath the fabric of her sweater, fingers caressing bare skin. Those same inquisitive fingers stopped just below the lace of her bra.

“Is this okay? If it’s too much right now...” Nicole’s breath against her ear, combined with the low, husky register of her voice, set Waverly’s pulse racing.

Waverly turned to face her, placing her index finger against Nicole’s lips. She shook her head. She wanted to forget all of the fear and the pain of the last several days, even if only for a moment. And being with Nicole could help her do that. In fact, she was pretty damn sure that being together like this was the first step towards healing. For both of them.

“Don’t you dare stop. I — I need this. I need you. Please.”

“I know, baby. I know. I need you too.”

Nicole nodded, understanding in her eyes, and her hands dropped to Waverly’s hips, somehow pulling her even closer as their lips crashed together in a searing kiss. With shaking hands, Waverly fumbled with the buttons on Nicole’s shirt. It’s not like we haven’t done this before. Why am I so nervous?

She didn’t have time to consider the answer to that question. All rational thought left her as Nicole swiftly pulled her sweater up and over her head. Open-mouthed kisses swept across her collarbone and strong, gentle fingers deftly undid her bra clasp.

“God, Waves. You’re so beautiful.”

Waverly found herself staring into brown eyes darkened with desire, and she was keenly frustrated by the fact that they were both still wearing far too many clothes. She tugged at Nicole’s shirt.

“Off,” she commanded.

The wicked, throaty laugh she got in response sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her. Quickly, they rid each other of the rest of their clothing, and then Nicole was carefully lowering her to the bed.

Nicole slid down beside her and placed a tender kiss to the purplish bruise just beneath Waverly’s breast. She looked up at Waverly, concern etched across her face.

“Does it hurt?”

Biting her lower lip, Waverly nodded.

“Sometimes. But I really don’t want you to stop.”

Nicole blew cool air across the bruise, and Waverly shivered at the sensation.

“Okay. I’ll be gentle,” Nicole whispered, lips sliding up over the curve of her breast. “You let me know if you need to stop, okay?”

Waverly was going to tell her that she didn’t have to be that gentle. That she wasn’t going to break. But the ability to form words died in her throat as Nicole’s mouth closed over a particularly sensitive part of her anatomy. Her back arched in pleasure, and Waverly wasn’t sure which one of them moaned louder when a firm thigh parted her own.

She didn’t know how long they were lost in a sensual haze of lips, tongues and electric touches that left them both shaking and spent. Sometime later, Waverly found herself nestled in Nicole’s arms. Her fingers traced random patterns across her lover’s bare stomach and she smirked contentedly at the way Nicole shivered under her touch.

“I missed this,” Waverly said with a happy sigh. “I missed you.”

“Mmhmm. Me too,” Nicole agreed, burying her nose in Waverly’s hair.

“Well, they do say that make-up sex is the best sex, right? Maybe we should fight more often.”

“Ha! Bite your tongue!” Nicole laughed, playfully swatting Waverly’s backside.

Waverly giggled and pressed a kiss to the spot right above Nicole’s heart.

Nicole sighed. “I wish we could just stay here like this.”

Waverly’s fingers dipped lower and she grinned proudly at the groan she got in return. Quirking an eyebrow, she peered up at Nicole.

“Who says we can’t?”

“Yeah, but for how long?” Nicole asked, her breath catching as Waverly’s fingers continued their exploration.

Waverly slowed, considering the thought carefully. They hadn’t really been together for that long, but she could no longer imagine a world that didn’t have Nicole in it. A vision flashed through her mind of a ring, given to her by Gus. It was your mama’s, Gus had told her. She wanted you to have it.

She had hidden the ring away in a drawer and forgotten about it. At the time, it had just been a painful reminder of the happy family she had never had. Now, though, she began to see a possibility for it to mean something else. Maybe it could be a symbol of the future. Their future. She smiled as a plan started to take shape.

“How does forever sound to you?”

Nicole stared back at her, that irresistible dimpled grin tugging at her heart.

“Perfect, Waves. Forever sounds just perfect. Yeah. I definitely like the sound of forever.”