Long auburn hair whipped around a wind worn face, shielded from the vicious red sands with a dirty cloth.
The expanse seemed to continue for days, months, endless miles of sand with no reprieve.
The lone figure spied a dot on the horizon.
House? No. Nobody lives out here. Just keep going.
Hours passed, the dot barely grew. The figure dropped to the ground. Pulling back the cloth, the fiery hair freed from its confines, a strong featured woman raised a hand to her forehead.
Shit. Won't make it before nightfall.
You don't move during the night. Things move about, Things that had no name besides just that - Things, but made up for it in the terror they instilled.
Sun was going to sleep, Moon, waking. She pulled a filthy blanket from her pack, a thermal jacket, checked her bottle of water. Barely four ounces. Only a sip, she told herself.
Cocooning herself in the blanket, she fell into a restless, fitful slumber, interrupted often by frigid chills, waited for Sun to rise again.
As soon as Sun greeted her, she continued her trek towards the dot. It grew bigger, and bigger. Finally, she could make out what it was.
Well shit, it is a house. I'll be damned... Who the hell has a house out here?
Another 2 hours before she reached it, silently observing, scanning the old building. Boarded up windows, at least two stories. Is it safe?
Thunk
Shit.
She whipped her head to the right, where the sound came from. In one smooth movement, her rifle was off of her shoulder and firmly gripped in her hands, ready to shoot foe.
CH-CHKT
The unmistakable sound rang in her ears as she slowly turned her head to her left, eyeballing a sawed-off shotgun aimed at her head. She slowed her breathing, took in the form currently threatening her.
Small. Definitely a woman. Long brunette hair woven in an intricate braid draped over her shoulder. Goggles, and a cloth around her nose and mouth obstructed viewing. She lowered her eyes. No choice. Have to lower the weapon.
She laid the rifle in the sand, raised hands in surrender, still no spoken words.
Brunette walked cautiously towards her, shotgun unmoving, picked up her rifle, took her pack. She motioned her to walk, gun against her back, guiding her up the porch, through the door, round a corner into a large room, safe now from the onslaught of dust.
Mattress. Chairs. Blankets. A veritable heaven in the middle of hell. Brunette took her shoes off, motioned for the other to do the same. She sat the red head against a wall, removed the cloth from the others face before her own. Brunette stared into red head's chocolate eyes, mulling over a choice. Trust, or not?
"Name?" Brunette said a single word to Red Head.
She didn't have much choice here, either. "Nicole."
Brunette sat, elbows on knees, shotgun in hands. She released a sigh, and pulled her mask away.
"Waverly."
Nicole stared intently into this stranger's newly revealed face. She hadn't seen a new face in a long time. This one was ... refreshing. Hazel eyes, soft, but defined jaw. Waverly was looking back at her. Her hair was redder than Sun himself. Large brown eyes, proud jaw.
Neither felt discomfort. This is what you did when you found a new person, you studied them.
Waverly left the room, all of Nicole's belongings still in hand. Returned without the pack and gun, instead with canned ravioli, can opener, old plates and forks.
After opening the can, she divided the contents equally, handed Nicole a plate. Nicole stared at the food like it was a royal buffet. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. It made her not want to eat what sat in front of her, save it, store it away.
"How long? Since you've eaten?" Waverly sensed the reserve in the other woman.
"Don't know. I stopped keeping track."
Waverly tapped her fork on the edge of her plate, thought a moment.
She stood, left again, returned with another can, a full bottle of water. Clear, clean water. Must've been 30 ounces there. She set them down in front of the obviously hungry, dehydrated woman. Nicole's mouth was agape, eyes moving from the items in front of her to Waverly's face.
"Eat. And drink." She scooped food to her mouth.
Before the kind stranger had a chance to change her mind, Nicole opened the second can, dumped the contents on her plate. She huddled herself in a corner, ate slowly, surely, guarding her food as if it'd be taken away, sipping the water every other bite.
Waverly wandered upstairs, returned with an armful of nonsensical items, trash. Nicole studied.
Fire…
Making a meticulous and calculated pile in the fireplace, Waverly used available materials to create a small bit of warmth, flickering and flaming barely a foot high. Nicole stared in awe. Hadn't seen one of these in a long time either.
"Where you headed?"
Nicole shifted her gaze from the warmth of the flames to the warmth of fellow eyes at the question.
"Lookin for The Tree."
Pause. "You believe it's real?"
Sigh. "Have to believe something right now. Otherwise there's no purpose. Day in, day out. Same misery over and over."
She studied Waverly before continuing.
"You gunna kill me?"
Legitimate question. No one to be trusted these days.
A laugh tumbled from Waverly's lips. Pleasant sound amid unpleasant days. Balm for the soul.
"No. Wouldn't have wasted the food if I was." A pregnant pause. "Where you from?"
Don't ask me that.
Furrowed brows creased brown eyes. Nicole desperately grasped for a memory that wasn't there, or was so deep it couldn't be accessed.
"I can't remember." Voice sounded wounded, like the loss of information affected her physically.
Waverly unraveled her long hair, curled from the confines of the braid
"Lots don't. Maybe when you get to The Tree… It'll come back…" Her soft voice trailed off.
"How do you do that? With your hair?" Nicole's auburn hair was filled with dirt. Maybe a braid would keep it a bit cleaner.
Waverly padded the seat on the mattress next to her. Nicole stood, gingerly took a place by the stranger's side.
Gentle hands stroked red hair, causing sand to rain down.
"Have to wash first. Come'ere." She stood, made her way what seemed to be the very back of the house, then down stairs.
All manner of junk was everywhere, she occasionally spotted the useful items, blankets, canned food, and … books?
Scavenger… She's a scavenger… With a shit ton of books.
Waverly flicked on temperamental lights.
"Don't have many bulbs left. I only use 'em when I have to."
Nicole stared to the corner, unsure if what she was seeing was real.
Shower.
Unable to form words to question this mystery, she simply stared. Waverly grabbed her hand, pulled her towards the corner. Nicole stood watch as the small woman filled a bucket of water in the shower.
How…? None of this makes sense...
Waverly gestured at the bottom of her shirt.
"Your shirt, that okay? Don't wanna get it wet…"
Shaking her head, she pulled off the crusty item of clothing, revealing a tattered bra, delicate, pale skin, thin from lack of food. She breathed deep, nervous all of a sudden, embarrassed at her current condition. Waverly said nothing, placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her to sit on a seat in the shower. As Nicole was about to comply, Waverly moved her hand from shoulder to chest, worried eyes fixed on a wound not completely healed. Hazel met brown once again.
"How'd this happen?"
Nicole was shuddering from the contact. Freezing and burning at the same time. "One of them…"
"Wait." Waverly opened a nearby cupboard. Clean cloths, and another amenity: soap.
"Wasn't gunna use soap, but that needs cleaning." Once again, she placed her hand on tall shoulder, the taller woman sat. She dipped a cloth in the water, gently dabbed the still red wound. Nicole recoiled from the touch, met Waverly's concerned eyes.
Why is she so worried? I'm a stranger…
She adjusted the pressure. "This better?"
Nicole nodded.
As Waverly wrapped a cloth around Nicole's slim frame, covering the cleaned wound, long, thin fingers wrapped around the gracefully moving ones.
"Why?" Inquisitive eyes finished the question.
It was now Waverly who shuddered at the contact. She let out a deep breath. "Why not? Can't remember the last time I saw someone. It's good. A new face is good." She gazed into this new face. Soft, but firm, wise, but questioning, careful, yet trusting. A good face. She'd never seen one like it.
Catching herself as she stared, she stood, informed her guest to lean over unless she wanted water in her lap.
Nicole leaned as far as she could. She didn't have extra pants. No, she didn't want water in her lap. She closed her eyes in contentment as Waverly's hands wove through her hair, water dripping to the ground, taking an enormous amount of sand with it. She wished never to move again.
But soon, Waverly held her elbow, helped her stand and dry her hair, even though it would have been more efficient to help while she was sitting, as Nicole was at least 3 inches taller, give or take.
This time, as she led her through her home again, Waverly grasped Nicole's hand firmly.
Freezing and burning…
They sat once again. Waverly produced yet another rare object: brush. Nicole gave a questioning look.
"Just have to know where to look." She shrugged her shoulders.
Nicole turned her back towards the smaller woman. She was grateful for the copious amounts of blankets she had, and for how clean she'd managed to keep them. She'd no idea how, but was grateful nonetheless. Grateful for the feeling of the brush moving tenderly through her hair, careful at knots. Grateful for the fingers that stroked her scalp, human contact.
She leaned her head back into the graceful hands. They noticed, massaged deeper. They moved to shoulders, turned them slightly as a face peered around.
"You want some clean clothes?"
Her guest looked confused. Clean clothes? She didn't even know how to answer that question.
"I have clothes, extra. I can find you something. Something clean." Without waiting for an answer, Waverly once again disappeared. Five minutes later she returned, black jeans and a plain t-shirt.
"This should fit." She'd tried to keep in mind the outside conditions. Find clothes that'd keep her both warm and cool once gone.
Gone. The thought of the newcomer leaving pinched her heart.
"Thanks." A meek smile thanked her. Waverly took it in like a refreshing drink.
Dimples... she has dimples... Never known anyone with a smile like that.
Nicole only turned to pulled her shirt off once again, threw it aside, pulled the filthy, worn pants off. Waverly blushed at the sight, taken by surprise, dipped her head. But she peeked out of the corner of her eye.
God, she's beautiful.
Nicole finished, Waverly sat on the mattress, informed her to sit on the floor in front of her. Hair rinsed, fresh clothes, Nicole didn't feel so grimy sitting next to this beautiful woman. Waverly's fingers wove through fiery hair, separating strands, explaining the movements.
"There. Should keep it clean, and out of your face."
Nicole shifted, her eyes now locked on the brunette's face. The gaze lingered, she didn't want to look away. She'd have to leave this house, this sanctuary, and she wanted all of it committed to memory.
"What do you think you'll find … at The Tree?" Waverly's voice was hesitant, trying not to reveal she didn't want Nicole to go to this Tree, that she wanted her to stay.
Nicole pondered a moment. "I'm not sure yet... I think that's why I'm going..." Her gaze drifted as her thoughts did. A soft hand on her cheek brought her back.
"This place is good. Might not be The Tree, I might not have all the answers here, but it's good."
"I know." Nicole nodded. "This is a good place." She placed her hand over Waverly's. Something was drawing her to this woman. An invisible force, a tether, like it was pulling harder and harder to draw Nicole in, keep her here. She wasn't sure if she should feel worried or safe.
A beam of light settled across Nicole's face, framing it like a portrait, Waverly's eyes locked on. As the beam shifted, Waverly remembered what it meant. Sun was going to sleep.
"Moon's coming." Barely a whisper escaped her mouth before she stood, moving swiftly between all the windows, pulling blacks rags down over boarded up glass.
"They haven't found me here yet. Here, help me move this." She walked to the door, leaned on one side of a wardrobe that stood next to it. Nicole went to the other side, pulled as Waverly pushed the heavy piece of furniture in front of both their escape and the Things' entrance. They settled, leaning, breathing a heavier now.
How the hell does she move this by herself?
She glanced over the small, fit figure. Modest stature, yet fierce nature. What a wonderful riddle she was. Nicole found herself wishing she had the rest of time to try and solve her. Though, she thought, she'd still fall short.
What if... Should I stay? What if Tree isn't real... And I leave her – for nothing...
"It's best if I put out the fire. Just in case."
For as sweltering as the temperature reached during the day, it made up for in biting cold during the night.
She did so, and proceeded to pile blankets on the bed.
"Warmer if we share." She looked to Nicole. Almost a question as much as a statement.
Nicole nodded in agreement. It would be. The small woman sat and made her way underneath the mountain of fabric. Nicole slid in, stared at the ceiling once settled.
A comfortable silence rested between them. Waverly faced away from the tall woman, kicked her legs, unsatisfied with her position, she flopped on her back, letting out a frustrated sigh. She turned her head to see the quiet newcomer. Truly, a stunning face. It turned.
Brown met hazel.
Nicole removed her arm from her chest, slowly, surely, slid it underneath the brunette hair, which lifted when realizing what the arm was doing. Not breaking eye contact, Waverly scooted closer, the body heat emanating from Nicole was better, warmer, much more comforting than a blanket. Every inching move was taken carefully, eyes asking permission for each one. Soon, Waverly's head rested on Nicole's shoulder, her small body wrapped up in arms, Nicole turned slightly and rested her chin atop Waverly's head.
How long had it been? How long since they'd touched another human? Neither remembered. Neither cared to. Both wanted this. These arms, these bodies, forever wrapped and intertwined. Not even a full calendar day, and they both knew.
Both fell into a deep sleep. They hadn't known such rest for ages. When they awoke, they found themselves in the exact same position they'd slept in, no movement.
Their eyes fluttered open, shut, willing themselves to stay as long as they could in this position. Waverly broke the silence with a plea.
"Stay. Just a couple more days. Then go to The Tree. But … just, stay a little bit."
"Yeah. I think I'll stay. Figure out what I'm looking for first." As she spoke, she pulled the smaller woman in closer, as close as possible.
They gave in to the comfort, and fell back to sleep. More deep, peaceful slumber.
Nicole woke first, looking around for a sign of what time of day it was. None. As softly, quietly as she could, she peeled herself from Waverly, slid out of bed, went to check a window. Pulling a black rag aside, she quickly released it.
Night. Again. Things walkin' about. She wasn't sure how she'd made it this far without shelter. But she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember what she did before she came upon this old house.
Think, godammit, think!
Nothing. No memories. Only Waverly.
She was startled by a hand on her back. Waverly.
"Night again. We slept the whole day."
"We must've been tired. Let's just lay down." She offered her hand, guided the taller woman back to the bed, settled back in.
They tried to converse, but neither remembered enough. So they lay, wrapped in each other. And it was enough. Like magnets, satisfied purely to be fixed to their other half.
A deep haunting groan outside a window shocked them from their comfort. Waverly's disposition immediately changed, comfortable, snuggling, to alert, stiff. She tossed the blankets aside, pulled her boots on, a jacket over her top. She disappeared, only to return with her shotgun and Nicole's rifle, thrown to her in a swift motion.
"It's them." Waverly deftly placed shells, closed, cocked. "Hope you have more ammo."
"In my bag." Nicole had already put her shoes and jacket on.
"Down the hall, closet."
Nicole went to retrieve them. The closet was filled with more junk. More guns and ammo, too. There, bag. She stuffed her pockets full.
She reentered the room to a concentrating Waverly, who was held her finger up in Nicole's direction. So she halted. Waverly's eyes darted around the windows.
"Three. Far as I can tell. Upstairs, c'mon." Quickly, but silently, Waverly treaded up the steps, followed by Nicole.
"How we supposed to fight 3? I barely lived fighting 1." Nicole lowered her voice to a whisper.
Waverly looked her in the face. "Hope to that Tree of yours." No trace of sarcasm in her voice. "They're bigger. Must be older." She studied Nicole as the groaning grew louder, more threatening. "Ready?"
Nicole looked at her.
No. Not ready. Not ready to leave you, for this to end.
And without warning, Waverly took hold of Nicole's chin, pulled her forward, and pressed their lips together. An urgent kiss, but equally passionate, full of unspoken words and desire. Things were getting closer, banging and scratching on the walls, louder. Both pulled away at the same time, nodded their heads as if to say yes, now I'm ready.
A long, black talon crashed through a window above them, breaking glass and wood boards, covered the floor in a pungent slime.
"Shit!" Waverly fell back, swung her shotgun around and blasted the claw. A screeching noise came from below. She'd hit her mark, but also angered the Thing.
Nicole stood against the wall, peered out the window where the creature invaded, rifle close to her heaving chest. She looked at Waverly, still on the floor, shook her head. Nothing. Groaning grew louder. Heart pounded harder.
She looked down, the floor, it was … sinking? Back at Waverly, couldn't quite see her, she faded in and out of clarity.
"What's happening?" Terrified, Nicole tried not to scream.
"I don't know!" Waverly tried to lift her hands from the floor, but it stuck to her, pulling her in, like tar, it stretched with every move, didn't let go.
"Is it them? Can they do this?" Desperation spread across Nicole's face. She couldn't move, couldn't move to run to Waverly, whose face bore the same agony
"I don't know! It's never happened before!" Terror spilled from her mouth.
All of a sudden, they were launched into the air, hitting the ceiling with great velocity. Things broke through boarded up windows, clawed at the floating women.
Nicole's eyes darted from Thing to Thing to Waverly, completely and totally unsure of what to do, besides get to Waverly's side. She reached, stretched her arm, but had no friction, no ground.
"Wave, reach." An almost breathless plea, desperate. All four arms outstretched, fingers finally met, pulled each other close. Suspended in air, they clung to each other as giant, unspeakable Things filled the room.
"Wave, you're The Tree. What I was looking for. The Tree..." A rushed declaration spilled from Nicole's mouth.
Waverly sobbed, nodded. They pressed their lips together as the room went dark, black, and their minds did the same.
Nicole jolted upright, breathing heavily.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Beep … Beep … Beep
She turned, heart monitor, looked down, IV. To her side, an elderly man, glasses perched atop his nose, a bushy grey beard beneath a knobby nose that was scrunched in concentration. He worse a pristine white coat.
Doctor... Why?
"Where am I?"
The man was startled by her voice, looked up at her, pleasantly surprised.
"Oh, hello! That took longer than expected! But this is good news. The longer, the better." Kind voice, the man smiled at her.
"What took longer? What is this?" She was suddenly aware of all the wires attached to her, started peeling them off.
"Oh, confusion is common. You came here looking for something. Here, our pamphlet, that might jog your memory." He handed Nicole said pamphlet.
An image of a tree on the front. "We are The Tree. The Tree symbolizes life, and we wish to accompany your path in finding this as best as possible. Some look for their dream vacation, their not yet adopted child, their soulmate. Whatever you wish, we shall assist."
"I came here... looking for someone." Nicole was almost talking to herself, as the memory came back to her.
"Yes. You didn't know who, just that someone was missing. Someone meant to be in your life. I think you found her."
"Waverly..."
"Ah, yes." The old man turned in his swiveling chair towards a computer, began rapidly typing. "I've been analyzing your session. And she is, indeed, who you were looking for. I have some good news for you, too." More rapid typing. "She found you."
Nicole's face must have looked dumbstruck.
"Miss Waverly did the session some time ago. You could say, she's been waiting for you."
"We died... in that house, we died."
"Ah, even better news! Let me tell you how the dreams work. The longer, more difficult it is, the stronger your bond is. And if you die? Well, that means you're willing to die for each other. I've never seen results like yours, or hers. Your bond is … unique. Very strong. Most folks dream of parks or Tinder dates. They're soulmates, don't get me wrong, but you ladies… You're the real deal."
"How am I supposed to find her?"
"She released the information to us. She agreed that, if you ever did this session, and found her, we were to give you her information." The man opened a file, pulled out a sheet of paper, handed it to Nicole.
There it was, in her hands. Directions to the woman from her dream. "Waverly Earp..." She whispered to herself, ran her fingers over the name like it was the woman herself.
"Congratulations, Miss Haught. You found your soulmate."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"WAVERLY! HOW many times do I have to tell you, turkey bacon is NOT real bacon?" Wynonna Earp shouted up the stairs to her sister when she pulled out a package of bacon, only to find an imposter.
Waverly trotted down the stairs. "It's better for you!"
"This is identity theft, real bacon should have turkey bacon arrested." She pointed the food accusingly at Waverly.
"Fine, you don't want it, I'll eat it!" She took the food from Wynonna's hands, pulled a pan out of a cupboard and set it on the stove. Wynonna sipped a cup of coffee, watching her sister cook heathen food in disgust.
Five minutes into crackling bacon and Wynonna was leaning over her sister's shoulder, smelling the imposter food.
"Damnit that smells good..." The smug look on her face said she wasn't happy about it. Her boots stomped as loudly as possible up the stairs. "Tell me when it's done!"
A car door shut and Waverly expected Gus, Doc or Dolls to enter momentarily. When no one did, she peered through the kitchen window.
A tall woman stood in front of the homestead, studying it. She stood in front of a worn truck, a truck Waverly had seen before. In a dream. She concentrated on the woman again. Fiery red hair, up in a braid. She'd seen her too, in the same dream. Waverly ran to the front door, swinging it open haphazardly. Froze solid on the porch, staring.
Hazel met brown.
The tall woman moved gingerly towards the smaller. A foot apart now.
"It's you…" She held her hand out, Waverly placed hers on top, felt the delicate skin beneath, careful not to press to hard, as if she'd disintegrate.
"Nicole…?"
"Waverly."
"I like your hair…" Stupid words, but she couldn't think of anything else.
Nicole raised a hand, brushed the red strands in the braid. "You taught me." A smile spread over her face. Waverly raised her hands, to those dimples, to the beautiful smile that she'd found long ago in a dream.
"Glad to see your truck in one piece." Waverly's face erupted into a wide grin, her features crinkled it was so big. Nicole looked behind her, confused.
"Glad to see your house in one piece." She gazed back at the brunette, offered her own piece of mysterious information about her dream.
Eyes lingered, not daring to look away from the others.
Here she was. Finally. Hell and back. And here she was.
Nicole stepped forward, now in Waverly's space, eyes seeking permission. Placing her hands softly on Waverly's face, she leaned down, pressed her forehead to the others. Eyes closed. Hearts beat rapidly. Small hands wrapped around the tall neck.
"Can I…?" Waverly nodded enthusiastically. The distance closed. Lips met in sweet harmony, passionate bliss. Only this time, it was real. Not a dream. No waking from it. Only living it. Arms wrapped around the small torso, lifting her off the ground.
As they buried their faces in their soulmate's neck, both thought the exact same thing at the exact same moment.
Finally…