Part Ten

The trailer park had become something of a ghost town in the days following Clootie's resurrection. The Call had been strong, pulling most of the Revenants that had survived Wynonna's tenure as Heir to his side, willing to bow down and serve the master that had a chokehold on their very souls. Bobo could still feel that pull every now and again, threads of the curse wrapped around him, tugging and coercing him into his natural state that he was fighting so hard against. And demondom was, and had been for some time now, his natural state, no matter how human the dream world had made him feel again. It was back to reality.

There were a small handful of Revenants that had defected with Bobo when he'd broken from Clootie - they remembered the last time he'd proven that he was more powerful than any Revenant in the Triangle and had had no interest in being the one that he used if he chose to prove that again - and they were his eyes and ears, just as it had been for nearly a century that they'd shared this prison together. One or two scurried around the park, even at this late hour, and the others were either out or sleeping.

Bobo bent behind an empty trailer to shield his lighter from the wind and he lit the cigarette between his lips, pulling in the smoke and letting the nicotine do what it could to ease his tattered nerves. It had been just at a week since the spell had been broken and he'd barely slept. Every time he had tried to close his eyes he had seen them: his Willa and his Grace. His little girl had reached for him and the world had broken apart around them, leaving him to wake screaming their names in a panic that just wouldn't do in a place of tentative power over the remaining Revenants loyal to him.

So he just hadn't slept.

It wasn't a permanent solution, but so far it was working for the most part. He wasn't sure just how long he could manage that - even Revenants had limits, he'd found - but with the way things were escalating he didn't think he would have to hold out too much longer until they came back around to violent blows with Clootie.

"Boss?"

It was everything he could do to keep from jumping at the sound of the voice behind him, and he covered the flinch with another drag of his cigarette, pulling himself together and shoving down the exhaustion as he turned. One of the Revenants that had always been so eager to please stood swaying back and forth from side to side, waiting anxiously. It made Bobo wonder what sort of bad news he was there to deliver. Freddy looked like he was afraid he was about to take a pounding for it. "What?" he growled out, not missing the way that the other's eyes darted for the nearest escape.

"I, uh… you had me down by the lake outside of town for anythin' that stood out," he stuttered, stumbling over every few words and Bobo briefly considered if popping him on the back of the head might help encourage the words out a little faster. He knew he'd sent him out of Purgatory to scout out some of the land still within the Triangle that rested between the town and the Big City. Clootie wouldn't dare hide within Purgatory. Not with everything riding on him building enough power to take them all out.

Freddy continued to sputter and Bobo adjusted his footing, leaning closer to the shaking Revenant. He'd been a petty thief, if memory served. Never violent, even after his first trip to hell, but he wasn't overly useful most of the time either. "And?" he prompted roughly.

"Right. There's this, uh, cabin down close to the line. Been abandoned for years. Ain't been no one there for…. Right." He seemed to realize that he was repeating himself and grimaced, resetting. "There were lights. Got in close and saw ol' Texas Bill 'n Skinny Pete down by it. Got pictures too." He pulled out his cell phone and Bobo took it, fumbling with the zoom on it to show faces only partially illuminated by the lights shining on the cabin. "They went down some cellar. Didn't come out as long as I sat there."

Bobo pushed a long breath out through his nose. He never would have bet money on it, but Freddy had found something. He wasn't sure what yet, but they'd found something. He huffed something of an acknowledgement and shoved the phone in his coat pocket, taking another long drag from his cigarette as he moved towards the motorcycle he'd parked earlier.

"Uh, boss? Am I gonna get my phone back?" came the almost squeaky question.

"When I'm done with it," Bobo answered gruffly, straddling the bike and kicking the stand up. He didn't give Freddy the chance to argue again as it roared to life and sped towards the gate.

It was late. Later than anyone else bothered to stay. There was a cop on duty out front in case there was an emergency, but all in all the sheriff's station was almost empty. If he were honest, Jeremy liked it that way. It let him think without too many distractions, and lately there had been plenty. He was needed for a hundred different things and all he wanted to do was exactly what he felt like he'd been doing for the last five years: creating. The theories he'd worked with in the dream world translated well enough into this one and in the late hours of the night, while all the other members of the team were sleeping, he was able to tinker.

There was a crashing sound from out front, like someone shoving the doors open with a bit more forceful than they needed to be opened, followed by a startled sound and haphazard protest from the police officer up front. Jeremy was halfway to the door leading out of the BBD offices when he spotted Bobo Del Rey stalking irritably down the hallway. Not that he walked any other way these days.

The Revenant stopped mid-step, almost as if he were having trouble adjusting his focus, but that couldn't be right. From what Jeremy knew Revenants had heightened senses, including vision. While Robert Svane had needed glasses, Bobo certainly didn't, so what had startled him into stoping like he had was beyond him.

"Junior."

The greeting jerked him out of his thoughts and Jeremy blinked rapidly. "Hey. Yo. What are you doing here… so, so late? Wow. Is it really nearly two am? I mean, where does time go, am I right?" He gave a nervous chuckle and Bobo waved one hand in the air dismissively before digging in his coat pocket to pull out a cell phone.

He handed it over. "Do you know how to make this clearer?" he asked, pulling up a picture.

Jeremy had crossed the space between them and peered at the offered image. It was dark, two men whose faces were mostly visible, just cut by shadows, moving to a location that he didn't know. "Sure. Shouldn't take too long. Where'd you get it?"

"One of the boys I had keepin' an eye out. Two Revenants that we know are working close with Clootie disappeared into this cellar."

"Oh," Jeremy all but hummed and took the phone from him, turning back to his lab and going straight to the computers to start the process of clearing up the image so they could actually do something with it. Once he had the program running he turned, finding Bobo lingering at the door like he didn't quite know if he wanted to come in or not.

The lights in the hallway had been dimmed to conserve electricity, but here in the lab Jeremy could see the bags forming under Bobo's pale eyes, the lines in his face appearing just a little deeper than usual and he could almost feel the change in him. He was always gruff, always a little irritable and he'd been more distant than usual lately, but everyone had been adjusting. They had two lives to deal with in their heads now and trying to sort through that, trying to come to terms with it, had been difficult. They'd helped each other where they could, supporting each other and even going as far as to push those that didn't want to work through it. Nicole had Waverly, Waverly had Wynonna, Wynonna had Dolls, and Dolls and Jeremy both had pushed Doc where he needed it, but no one had pushed Bobo. He hadn't realized that until now. The man that had lost so much with the collapse of that spell, but after that first night of mourning it had just been… dropped. It wasn't right.

"How long's that gonna take?"

"Oh, a few minutes. We've got a few." Bobo nodded, turning like he was thinking about leaving. "But, uh, I mean, you'll want to be here when I get it cleared right? It won't take that long. Why don't you sit down? We can -" he looked around, searching wildly for anything he could use when he spotted the desk that Wynonna kept a scant few possessions in the office- "oh!" He rushed over to the desk and dug through the mostly empty drawers before finding a bottle of whiskey. "This is what you guys do, right?"

Bobo stared at him like he'd gone completely crazy and then finally shook his head. "Sure. Why the hell not? Not like I've got anywhere to be."

It took Jeremy a beat longer than it probably should have to decide if the Revenant was being sarcastic or not, but when he decided that he'd actually accepted the offer he went for a couple of coffee mugs they had stored away and poured whiskey into each mug. Bobo motioned and he poured bit more until he finally waved at him to stop at considerably more than Jeremy had in his own mug. That was fine. He needed to relax a little.

He watched Bobo take the mug and lean against the desk opposite, never quite sitting, and it became quickly evident that Jeremy was going to have to start the conversation. He took a swig from his mug, nearly choking as it burned all the way down his throat, and coughed hard as his eyes watered. "So," he managed, "how've you been holding up?"

Bobo stared at him. "I've kept busy."

"Yeah, but that's not really what I meant." The scientist looked down at his shoes, trying to figure out exactly how he needed to phrase this so that Bobo couldn't squirm out of answering. No one should have to face what any of them had gone through alone, and certainly not losing everyone. He hadn't just lost his wife and kids, but a connection to the group that had tied him even tighter to it. It had to be hard. Being a Revenant, being Bobo Del Rey didn't change that. It couldn't. He just needed to find a way to get him to open up. He took another drink and choked again.

"Go easy on that, Junior. Ain't a race."

"I know it's not, but I…" He blinked hard, finding those icy blue eyes focused in on him. "You're teasing me?"

"Little."

"Oh." He cracked a smile. "Right. Yeah, I don't typically drink whisky straight."

"Coulda fooled me."

The smile grew a little and Jeremy took an intentionally smaller sip and it went down much more smoothly than before. It was warm and soothing, and he leaned back against the desk and glanced over to the computer to see that they had time. "I just meant with everything that happened. With Willa and Gracie and..." He saw the way that Bobo cringed at that and he stopped. No, this was wrong. He wasn't going to just tell him everything, Jeremy knew that. Of course he knew that. Bobo was a private man to begin with, and then add onto that the deeply personal nature of everything that happened, then why on earth would he tell Jeremy everything just because he asked? That was stupid.

Jeremy cleared his throat and moved to take a seat in the chair next to the desk, taking another sip from his mug as he did and feeling a strange sort of warmth working its way through him. "My mom was alive in that world," he blurted without warning.

"Say what?"

"My mom. I mean, she died… here. In this reality. I lost her… years ago." Jeremy winced at the twinge of pain and the next drink he took was a bit longer and the burning felt a bit better this time. "I miss her like crazy, but she was alive in that world and she was…. So proud of me. It was crazy. Perfect." He could feel the smile spreading even as his vision blurred from the tears that were gathering at the thought. "I didn't take the time to see her that I should have. If I'd known where we were, nothing else would have mattered. I would have spent as much time with her as I could have." He glanced over to see the other man leaned against the desk, drinking from his own mug and he found himself wondering if it burned him any less. "We had all these plans that I remember making with her. I mean, I don't even know if I actually saw her or if she was really there, but I remember making the plans. I was going to take her to Europe. She wanted to go to Scotland and see the cows. They've got these cows there that are super shaggy and really cute and she…. She wanted to see the cows. I promised her I'd take her. I never did."

Bobo's eyes were focused on nothing in particular, dark brows drawn together and he reached up and ran a hand along the strip of mostly platinum blond hair along the top of his head, his lips twitching downward before taking a long swallow of his own whiskey. "Grace was writing a play."

"She was?" Jeremy managed and he saw the tiniest of smiles tilt Bobo's thin lips.

"Yeah. 'Bout a princess that became a knight. She asked me to play the monster that the princess-knight rescued. She was gonna put it on for everybody when she worked the kinks out of it. She'd tell me a new scene to write down every afternoon after I got home from work and then have me read it back so she could change what she wanted to change."

"Sounds like her."

"Yeah."

Jeremy chewed on his lip a little, desperately searching for the right words, but there weren't any. There were no right words to mourn the kind of losses that they'd suffered.

The computer sounded off an alert that the rendering was completed and both men looked over. Bobo cleared his throat and stood. "Can't bring 'em back now," he huffed, "but we can find Clootie an' make 'im suffer."

"Will it help?" Jeremy asked, hating how small his voice sounded for a question that felt so big.

Bobo paused, blue eyes squeezing shut. "For a moment, yeah," he said and he knocked back what was left of his mug. "That somethin' we can use?"

Jeremy leaned in to look at the photo, the image clear and sharp now. "Yeah, I think so. Wyonna's gonna be pissed at how early it is."

"Not if you tell her we might get Clootie 'cause of it."

"True," Jeremy managed and reached for his cell phone. He was glad he'd stayed late at the lab.

Bulshar had left her to think on his proposition. She wasn't alone, not all the time. There were Revenants that came in and out, threatening but never quite touching her. The threat was there though, the understanding that the moment that Willa turned the demon down that she would relive one of the most traumatic experiences of her childhood. This time Bobo wouldn't be there to stop the other Revenants from acting on every twisted desire that passed through their heads.

A shiver ran through her as the memories bubbled to the surface. She had been in a room not unlike this one, her father's lifeless body her only company between Revenant visits. They hadn't even bothered to close his eyes. She could still remember curling herself into a far corner, terrified and alone, and she knew just enough to know that it could be much worse. She remembered hearing the angry snarls outside of her cage and the door flying open, a Revenant even more terrifying than the others hauling her up and telling the Seven that he would handle her. He had hauled her over his shoulder to carry her out, kicking and screaming and swearing. She had threatened him, even if they had both known she couldn't make good in it, and he had finally dropped her so that he could look her in the eye, the first words he had spoken directly to her a demand to know if she'd prefer that he left her with the Seven and what they had planned. Willa had gone immediately silent at that and he had taken her away. She had had no way to know that the Revenant leader was staging a rescue, not a murder. It had taken even longer for her to truly believe it and come to know Robert rather than just Bobo Del Rey.

Robert didn't even know she was alive, though. He wasn't coming for her. She was on her own and if she wanted even a chance to get back to the family that she'd loved so dearly in that dream world, she was going to have to find her own way.

Willa heard the sound of footsteps before the door opened and she stood. The Revenants that accompanied Clootie leered at her, but his smile was more charming than it had right to be. It was no wonder that he had gained so much power in Purgatory years before. He was a snake in the grass. He was also her captor with the power to make her wish for death. She had to be careful how she proceeded. He wasn't Wynonna, ready and willing to trust her. He was her enemy that she had to somehow convince that she was on his side.

"Good evening, Ms Earp. I hope you've considered my proposal."

"There wasn't much to it," she pointed out. "Exactly what do you want from me?"

Those strange gold gaze traveled up and down, taking in every inch of her and she felt violated already. She kept her shoulders squared and her chin tilted up, the boredest look she could manage on her face as she mentally ran through all the stories that Robert had told her over the years about how he'd convinced a band of outlaws that he was not only one of them, but their best option to survive. She might not be able to physically put any of these assholes down, but if she knew exactly what Clootie wanted she could outthink any of them. She had been trained as the Heir. She had this.

"You're a very special case, Willa," Bulshar said as he reached forward, his hand cold against her cheek but she didn't dare flinch. "An Heir that betrayed her family. That opened the Gates. You are-" he leaned in, breathing in deeply- "quite a find for me."

"You've said that much," Willa all but growled and then she did pull away. "And that if I help you that I can get my daughter back."

He hummed, but he didn't confirm the bit about Grace. Instead he let his hand drop to her shoulder and then down her arm, his touch light and it made her sick. "Curses are funny things. Magic is, really. Constance was good at managing it, but would you imagine that when she betrayed me, she didn't leave me with all of those details."

She did her best not to move as his fingers played with the hem of her shirt at her hip. "I would have thought dark magic would be right up a demon's alley."

"There's power there, but the magic is what hones it in. As the curse's castor there are certain… limitations put on me."

"And that's what you want me to help with?"

"As a Fallen Heir you open up countless roads that would have been closed before. One, in particular, that we can both benefit from."

Willa snapped, grabbing his wrist as his hand started to wander a bit more and she bent it around, hearing the Revenants around them jump as she slammed their master against the wall hard, his arm bent at an awkward and painful angle. "Spit it out or shut up."

A deep, rough chuckle left him and saw white teeth flash. "There she is, the girl locked away in a tower that would do anything to get what she wanted. I knew she was in there somewhere. Just because your goal has changed doesn't mean that you have. How far are you willing to go?"

She released her hold on him, but never broke eye contact. "I would do anything to make sure my child was safe."

"Good, then you'll have no problem killing the Heirs."

They'd been back to their own reality for a week now and Doc still wasn't sure that he had quite wrapped his mind around how there could be two realities that felt equally real to him bouncing around inside of his skull. On one hand there was this life, in which he'd lived for over a century, earned the name the fastest draw in the West, and fought along side Wyatt Earp. He'd made a deal for longevity and had been thrown down a well for his efforts, left to rot there not just by the witch that had tossed him but by a jealous mouse of a man that had had the audacity to blame him for… something. To be honest, he still wasn't sure what Bobo Del Rey blamed him for, but the two had a very tentative truce in this reality. Nothing like the close friendship that Doc had shared with the soft spoken and clever Robert Svane that he'd known in the dream world. They'd still been so very different, but that had brought them together there, and had left them with a deep respect and trust in one another.

Strangely enough, he had missed that this past week. Between losing his wife, his daughter, and his best friend, he felt very alone in this reality that was supposed to be his own, no matter how Jeremy and even Dolls had tried to let him know that they were there if he needed someone.

His and Wynonna's on again off again romance had come to a screeching halt when they'd returned, Wynonna shutting him out as she did and folding in on herself, focused entirely on trying to end Bulshar. It was a fine goal, he had no argument there, but he didn't questioned that she was avoiding the fact that they had been married. They had been a family. She seemed to think if she ignored that long enough that it would just go away.

Doc took a deep drag off his cigarette, tilting his head back to look up from where he stood outside of the Earp Homestead, squinting up at the stars sprawled out above. He loosed the smoke out through his nose, watching it curl in the chilly night air, and he thought about a little girl with big blue eyes, bouncy brown hair, and mischief for miles. She wasn't five-years-old yet, and that was fine by him. He'd be happy to relive it all over again if he could just watch her grow. It was the distance that killed him.

"Hey."

He turned, startled by the voice, and found Wynonna standing on the porch. "Hello."

"You know, when you said you were going to sleep here tonight, I thought you might mean sleep."

The sharpshooter smirked a little, turning back to his stargazing. She hadn't sought him out in a week, but in the dead of night maybe he was all she had. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Me or you?"

"Well, I know I couldn't."

She quirked an eyebrow and moved to stand next to him. He saw her tilt her head up to follow his line of sight and a soft sigh escape her as she reached out and snagged his cigarette from his lips, taking a long drag before handing it back. "It's tough."

"That's all you got to say?"

"What do you want me to say, Doc?"

"The truth's a start."

Wynonna huffed, her entire stance moving to defensive. "There's nothing to talk about. It was a dream. It wasn't real."

"You and I both know that ain't the whole of it."

"For you it isn't," she bit out and he flinched back a little at her tone.

He took a moment, trying to gather himself, and finally he cleared his throat. "I remember things like they happened. Like goin' out to that ol' drive in movie theater an' settin' up a picnic in the back of my truck. I remember seein' you for the first time in that world and thinkin' you were the girl I was gonna marry. I remember you turnin' me down the first time I proposed."

"You were drunk," Wynonna grumbled automatically.

"So were you."

That pulled a smile from her, and he was sure that it wasn't the first one he'd gotten since they'd gotten back. He offered the last drag off his cigarette and she turned her nose up and shook her head. She sighed, leaning into him so that her shoulder was pressed against his arm, her head tilted onto his shoulder.

"Were you happy?" Doc asked after a long moment, his whisper sounding so loud in the quiet night.

"Yeah," she answered and he found her looking up at him. "It's not you. It's this. I can't…. She's all I can think about. We have to get her back, Doc, and she has to be safe. Then…. Then maybe we can think about… all of that."

"Family?"

"We're already family."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah," she huffed and turned to kiss his shoulder.

He leaned down to return the kiss to the top of her head. "I love you, Wynonna. No strings attached, but I do love you."

"I know. One thing at a time."

"One thing at a time," he agreed softly.

There was a moment of silence before he heard Wynonna's cell phone buzzing. She squirmed to reach into her heavy jacket for it and pulled it out. "Yeah?" There was a long pause and what sounded like Jeremy rattling on the other end of the line. "You sure? Okay. I'll get everyone up and we'll get down there. Waking him up is totally on you."

She hung up and turned to look at Doc. "They got a lead."

"They?"

"Jeremy and Bobo."

Doc raised a questioning eyebrow and she smirked at him, tipping up to press a kiss to his lips. He nearly sank into it, but she pulled back, motioning for the house. They had a job to do.