"…Pressman tries to dangle through and loses the puck—Drillers counter with a 3-on-1… and the Drillers score! Candace Bishop makes it 2-1 with just over ten minutes left in the third…"
Wynonna pushed her way through the doorway of the homestead eagerly after an unbelievably boring day at the rink. With the Devils out of town in Edmonton for games three and four, the arena was practically empty, and Doc's texting ability was severely lacking. She'd found herself hoping for a beer league game or something to liven the experience up, but all she got all day was inventory and ordering, and organizing. It never occurred to her how much work Nicole actually lifted off of her and Waverly until the workload was put back on their shoulders.
Nicole had convinced Waverly to go back to work at the arena, Waverly only agreeing under the condition that either she or Wynonna be home to supervise Nicole at all times. The redhead fought this, of course, and grumbled that she didn't need a babysitter, but caved when Waverly stood up crossing her arms and quite literally putting her foot down. The result of this being that things took twice as long to get done around the rink due to the limited workforce.
The only sliver of interest in Wynonna's day was the official looking envelope that came in the mail, addressed to Nicole. In a very un-Wynonna-like move, she decided that Nicole should open her letter herself, no matter how much she so badly wanted to see what kind of mail she was getting from the league office. Last time it had been an all-star invitation, and Wynonna was curious to see if it was similar excitement.
"Honey, I'm home!" she cheered as she entered the home, finding Nicole on the couch with the Devils game playing. The redhead made no acknowledgement of Wynonna's presence, only continuing to stare blankly ahead at the screen. Wynonna found it weird that Waverly was nowhere in sight, and stepped curiously further into the room. "Haught?"
"…Hastings cross-ice to White, over to Arthur…her shot WIRED by Lauren Miller to give the Drillers a 3-1 lead. Wow! Two goals twenty-eight seconds apart…"
When Nicole still didn't acknowledge her presence, Wynonna tossed the letter at her, hitting her best friend in the face.
"Ow! Jesus Wynonna." Nicole cursed, glaring at Wynonna. "What the fuck?"
Nicole's response had been like a switch had flipped; going from completely on another planet to all there in zero seconds flat. Over the week Nicole was out of the hospital, Wynonna quickly observed that Nicole's spaciness came and went, and like most things, was more noticeable later on in the evening and at night.
"Mail came for you."
"Yeah, no shit." Nicole scoffed. "Must you throw it at me?"
"Yes I must," she smirked mischievously, taking the empty seat on the couch. "Open it. I wanna see your fancy league mail."
"Wait, I wanna wait for Waverly."
"Speaking of," Wynonna probed, not remembering a time (even before the accident) where the two weren't attached at the hip, "where is your better half?"
"I convinced her I could handle myself long enough for her to take a shower."
"Mhm. I definitely got that from the way you had no idea I walked in the door—I could've been a burglar, coming to burgle you."
"Technically you would've been burgling yourself, this is your home."
"Shut up. Open," she said, snatching the letter from Nicole's hands and waving it vigorously in front of her face.
"No, I wanna wait for Waverly," Nicole said, firmly holding her ground.
"Wait for Waverly for what?" The woman in question asked, appearing in the den, still towel-drying her hair.
"I got a letter from the league office."
"Hmm, I wonder what it could be." Waverly hummed, coming to join the two on the sofa, practically forcing her way in between Nicole and Wynonna, pushing the latter off the couch. Wynonna huffed and crossed her arms in mock incredulity.
"How rude." She sneered, earning an eye roll from her sister and her best friend. She got up off the floor and sat on the opposite side of Nicole.
Nicole tore open the envelope, yawning slightly as she did so. She scanned the letter first, squinting at the letters before sighing and handing the paper to Waverly, frowning at the fact her head hurt too much to focus on the letters. (Not that she should've been reading anything so soon after a concussion anyway).
Waverly cleared her throat dramatically, with an air of importance as she began to read:
"Dear Miss Haught,
The Canadian Elite Women's Hockey League commends you and your teammates on a hard-fought season. The league's Board of Directors has recognized your contributions to your team and your outstanding performance over the course of this year's regular season. As a result, I am proud to announce the members of the All-CEWHL First Team:
G: Alexia Soucy, Peg City Pirates
D: Georgette Thayer, St. John's Ice Dogs
D: Margarite Boudreau, Trois-Rivieres Navagatrices
LW: Candace Bishop, Edmonton Drillers
RW: Shae Pressman, Purgatory Blue Devils
C: Nicole Haught, Purgatory Blue Devils
And the members of the CEWHL All-Rookie Team:
G: Marie Williams, Sherbrooke Black Widows
D: Leanne McCarthy, Moncton Cougars
D: Kendra Lewis-Black, Summerside Islanders
LW: Jenna Boardman, Purgatory Blue Devils
RW: Annie Burns, Kelowna Grizzlies
C: Nicole Haught, Purgatory Blue Devils
Furthermore, we are excited to announce that you are among the three finalists for the Hilda Ranscombe Trophy honoring the league's most outstanding first-year player, and the Shirley Cameron Trophy honoring the league's Most Valuable Player.
We cordially invite you to the CEWHL Awards celebrating this season's excellence, held in Calgary, Alberta on Sunday, June 9th.
Congratulations again on all you have achieved.
Sincerely,
Eliza R. Shapiro
CEWHL League Commissioner"
"Dude," Wynonna shouted, nudging an elbow gently into Nicole's left side, "you're a fucking stud. I mean, you're no me, but who is?"
"Wynonna?" Nicole said.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up." The redhead silenced Wynonna, eyes trying to scan the letter, still in disbelief.
"I'm so proud of you baby." Waverly placed a kiss on Nicole's right temple. "I'll book the flight in the morning."
Nicole looked at Waverly hesitantly, eyes uncertain.
"Waves, maybe hold off on that. I don't know if I should go."
"Haught, did you pop one too many of your painkillers?" Wynonna interjected.
"I actually haven't taken any since this morning," the redhead frowned, brow furrowed.
"Alright so then you're actually clinically insane. Why the fuck wouldn't you go to the Awards?"
"Well," Nicole shrugged, "I don't know. What if my leg hurts too much? Or it's too loud—there's gonna be a lot of people there. Or, or…it's not like I'm even gonna actually win any of those awards anyway, so why go?"
Waverly opened her mouth to say something comforting or reassuring, but Wynonna held up a finger to stop her sister. She'd handle this.
"Nicole, you're my best friend, so I mean this with all the love in the world—you're being a big dumb ginger right now." Wynonna said, earning a scowl from the redhead. "Don't give me that look, and do not give me that bullshit about how you won't win the award, you wouldn't have been nominated or be in the final three if you didn't deserve to win it."
Nicole paused, biting the inside of her cheek, and wanting to fight back, but couldn't fight the older Earp. Wynonna prided herself on telling it like it is. She was effectively convincing.
"Well what about the flight? I don't wanna hold up security because I've got metal rods in my leg."
"Then we'll drive, the awards are in Calgary, that's practically our backyard," Waverly offered as a solution.
Nicole mulled over the information, searching for a valid excuse and not finding one, before relenting with a groan. "Fine, I'll go."
Waverly clapped with joy, leaning over to kiss Nicole as a sign of congratulations.
They were all hoping that attending the awards would've been made sweeter by the addition of a league championship, but the Devils were sorely outmatched in their Conference Final series, winning game one before losing four straight to the Edmonton Drillers. The Cinderella story was cut short, and Wynonna could see the look on Nicole's face showing her disappointment and frustration that she couldn't do anything to help her team. Wynonna felt for the redhead, knowing that Nicole probably could have made a difference. The Devils gave a valiant effort, but they'd barely beaten the Pirates, and were offensively challenged without Nicole—the Drillers made it look easy the way they dismantled the Blue Devils.
Such is life, Wynonna thought, sometimes it really is a backpack of balls.
Wynonna was already planning on going to the awards with Waverly and Nicole when she was pleasantly surprised by Doc asking her to be his plus one to the event. The two sat beside her sister and Nicole, the whole row of seats reserved for the nominated Devils members. She couldn't believe the size of the arena they were in. An actual NHL arena was quite the step up from any of the barns in their league. From just over Waverly's shoulder, Wynonna could hear Nedley going on and on to Chrissy and Nicole about the times he played here (when it was the Olympic Saddledome and not "pimped out" to big business, he said pointedly—"Scotiabank Saddledome? Ridiculous.")
The event was filled with the league's stars, upper management, a few brands trying to secure new clients for sponsorships, and a handful of lesser-known celebrities who were big fans of the league to present awards.
The show opened with a montage of highlights from the season, Nicole, Shae and Jenna showing up on more than one occasion. The reel ended with a recap of the playoffs, thankfully leaving out player injuries, concluding with Clara Martel's OT winner in game seven of the McCallion Cup finals to lift the Ice Dogs over the Drillers for the title.
"Welcome, everyone to this year's celebration of the Canadian Elite Women's Hockey League," Commissioner Shapiro took to the stage following the conclusion of the video. "On behalf of the entire league, I would like to extend my congratulations to all players, coaches, trainers, team doctors, and front office staff for their achievements and part in making this past season so successful and entertaining to the fans. And to the fans, I say thank you for your support, because without you all, none of us would be here."
Shapiro gave way to her Deputy Commissioner to introduce the first award of the night—the Danielle Goyette Trophy for the player who put up the most points, an award Shae had finished second for last season, and one Nicole finished third for this year. This year's winner was Candace Bishop of the Edmonton Drillers. Her acceptance speech was followed by a popular hockey podcaster presenting the Jayna Hefford Trophy to the player who scored the most goals this season, this year's honor going to one Shae Pressman. The crowd cheered for Shae as she took the stage, the Devils' section being especially rowdy. Shae stood behind the massive trophy and thanked the league for the honor and her teammates and coaches who "made me look good out there" before returning to her seat with a plaque engraved with her name on it.
The next few trophies were voted on by the league board and a panel of the coaches and presented after announcing the finalists before announcing the winner. The goalie from the Pirates won the top prize the league had to offer its netminders: the Manon Rheaume Trophy, and Georgette Thayer from St. John's took home the Geraldine Heaney Trophy for the league's best defender. When the Fran Rider trophy for GM of the year was awarded to Purgatory's own Xavier Dolls, his speech was as professional and detached as the man gave off on a regular basis, though Wynonna clocked what may have been maybe a hint of the beginning of a smile betray his naturally stoic features. Nedley's speech, accepting the Herb Fach Trophy as head coach of the year, was much more engaging and so Nedley, what with it being laced with dad jokes and references Wynonna was surprised he even knew.
"Now, we move onto the last two, biggest two, awards of the night," Commissioner Shapiro said as she retook the stage. "First, the CEWHL awards the Hilda Ranscombe Trophy to honor the league's best first year player, a young player who stood out above all the rest of her peers to contribute to her team's success. This year the field of rookies was immensely deep with talent and skill, making the selection of the finalists that much harder. After consulting with the Board of Directors and all twenty-eight head coaches, we concluded on these three finalists. Let's take a look at the year they had…"
The big screen on stage showed a short montage of each finalist, starting with Kelowna's Keyha King, a rough and tough defender with a cannon of a shot and a body check that could send you through the glass if she felt like it. They highlighted a couple of her goals and her biggest hits in a small montage before displaying her season statistics—a respectable 19 goals and 25 assists. The second finalist was Charlottetown's Karolyne Sutherland, whose montage highlighted her playmaking and her statistics showing her 9 goal and 37 assist effort for the year.
Nicole was the third finalist, obviously, and it hardly felt like anyone needed to be reminded of her performance this year, though they showed her montage and flashed her 36 goals and 55 assists across the screen anyway. Wynonna felt like everyone in the room knew who was going to win this one.
"And this year's Rookie of the Year trophy goes to…" the commissioner paused for effect as she opened the envelope (very People's Choice Awards of them, Wynonna snickered to herself), "Nicole Haught of the Purgatory Blue Devils."
She wasn't sure if she or her sister cheered louder when they heard the announcement, Nicole sitting frozen in apparent disbelief. Waverly had to nudge Nicole to get up to accept her award.
Wynonna watched the redhead as she climbed the steps to the stage with her crutches, patting herself on the back for practically forcing Nicole to learn to climb the stairs at the homestead in preparation for this very moment. (It may have been out of selfish motivation, mainly because she wanted to sleep in her own bed again, but hey, look where it had gotten Nicole now).
Wynonna was certain she was going to vomit at the way Waverly was honest to god drooling over Nicole in the suit she'd chosen for the event—a fresh little navy-blue number that fit maybe a little too perfectly. She'd thought she was going to need to leave the room while Waverly was braiding Nicole's hair back at the homestead, what with the way her sister looked like all she wanted to do was tear that suit right off of Nicole's body. (But, Wynonna did have to call a spade a spade and agree that Nicole had no business looking good in that outfit). Nicole fumbled with the microphone on the podium for a moment, looking mildly uncomfortable for more reasons than just her injuries, and Wynonna laughed as the sound of microphone feedback sounded through the arena. Stupid fucking idiot.
"I uh, wow," Nicole said once she seemed to have the whole microphone thing figured out, "this is the last thing I expected. Most days I still can't believe I was even drafted, so this," she motioned toward the trophy on the table next to her for effect, "this is…wow."
Jesus Haught, I know you hit your head, but come on, form an actual sentence, Wynonna thought, though she was the first one to cheer when there was a pause in Nicole's speech (if you could call it that).
"I just wanted to say thank you to the league, to the Blue Devils and Sheriff Nedley for taking a chance on me, to my teammates who made all of this possible," the redhead picked up, seemingly having re-accessed her vocabulary. "And, most importantly to my family—my true family, for your support and your tough love and, gah, everything, I literally wouldn't be here without any of you. Thank you."
As Nicole moved to step away from the podium, she was stopped by the commissioner walking over to seize the microphone. Wynonna furrowed her brow, thinking that this was going to become less People's Choice Awards and more 2017 Oscars and that Shapiro was going to say that they'd announced the wrong person as winner. The look on Nicole's face seconded Wynonna's sentiment.
"Thank you, Nicole. Now, as we move to the final award of the night, I would like to first acknowledge the finalists for the Cameron Trophy, honoring the player deemed most valuable to her team and whose contributions were most outstanding across the league," the commissioner proceeded, but did not instruct Nicole to leave the stage as the other award recipients had been all night. "As you all know, the three finalists were Nicole Haught," she motioned toward the player onstage, "and Purgatory Blue Devils forward Shae Pressman, and Candace Bishop of the Edmonton Drillers," she acknowledged, though didn't cut to any sort of special montage for what was easily the biggest award of the night. "Now I know that normally we bring the show to a conclusion with all the fanfare surrounding this award, but we have something unprecedented here," Shapiro paused, the oohing around the arena building the dramatic effect, "because for the first time ever, the recipient of the Shirley Cameron Trophy has also been named the league's Rookie of the Year in the same season."
Wynonna turned to her sister, both pairs of eyes wide as saucers.
"Does this mean—"
"—I think so."
They both cheered excitedly in anticipation of the official announcement.
"So, let's all join me in congratulating Nicole Haught on a marvelous season, earning her the title of Most Valuable Player." The commissioner turned to Nicole who looked completely shellshocked, aghast, astonished, and just about every single synonym for shocked you could think of.
"I…I well, I'd say that it can only go up from here, but I'm not so sure that's even possible," Nicole shrugged. "The players in this league are all some of the most incredible players and athletes that I've ever seen, and wow, this is surreal. It very easily could've been either of the other two finalists—Candace, Shae, you guys are absolutely unreal. I'm honored, and still in disbelief, that I'm even in the same though as those two, never mind that I'm standing here accepting this award, so thank you. All of you. This is much better than any of my wildest dreams."
"You're leaving the rink early today, right?" Waverly asked as she entered the kitchen.
"Yeah, why?" Wynonna mumbled through a mouthful of cereal.
"Because I've got to go into the city today, remember? Dolls is looking to upgrade some things around the rink and asked me to help him find things that will be most beneficial and look the best."
She nodded, remembering how weird she thought it was that Waverly had to help Dolls, a man whose job it was to know and do these kinds of things himself. Though she supposed that maybe alien robots didn't have quite the eye for human interior design that one might think they would.
"Mhm, yeah, I'll be home before noon."
"'Nonna, it's ten o'clock," Waverly said admonishing her sister.
"Excellent point babygirl, why even go in at all?"
"You are the reason Gus is always worried about that place going under."
"Please, that place is practically a historical landmark, it's not going anywhere."
"So not the point," Waverly rolled her eyes as she filled a to-go mug with coffee. "But that's actually perfect, you can pick Nicole up from PT at the hospital."
"Does she have gas money?" Wynonna toyed, swirling her spoon in the air absentmindedly.
"Wynonna." Waverly said sternly.
"Kidding. Of course I'll pick up my favorite little cripple."
Waverly sighed heavily, staring Wynonna down—not intensely, but definitely hardening her gaze a bit.
"I think you should try to stop saying things like that around her," her sister said bluntly, taking the seat across from her at the kitchen table.
Nicole had been in physical therapy to rehab her leg for about six weeks now. She'd gotten the rods removed from her leg on the Monday following the league awards and started PT a week and a half later. Wynonna liked to make small little chirps, very on brand to her humor, using terms like peg-leg and gimpy jokingly around Nicole. She figured that with everything that had changed for the redhead, at least one thing could remain consistent in her life—Wynonna Earp being a completely not serious asshole.
"Oh come on, she knows I'm not serious."
"That's not the point," Waverly said, tone serious. "Look, I can tell she's frustrated that PT isn't going as well as she wants it to. I can tell she's scared, terrified, that she's never gonna play again, and you calling her a cripple doesn't help."
"Look, I'm glad you're all looking out for her and what not, but have you considered that bubble wrapping her and treating her like she's this fragile thing doesn't help either? Waves, just think of everything that's changed for her. It's a very real possibility that she won't play again. I know the doctors and physical therapists say that a good recovery from something like this is walking with a limp, maybe with a cane. Everything has changed for her, but you know what doesn't have to?" She paused, leaving space for Waverly to ponder the rhetorical question, "Me, being a sarcastic, teasing asshole."
Waverly scrunched her face and grumbled unhappily.
"I hate that you're right," she grumbled after a minute. "Since when did you become all mature and well adjusted?"
"Hmmm," Wynonna hummed, "how long have you been dating the redhead?"
Waverly rolled her eyes as she stood to head towards the door, "Whatever. Just make sure you're there to pick Nicole up at noon."
"Aye aye captain," she agreed with a salute as Waverly told her she'd be back later on, probably no earlier than eight o'clock, and walked out toward her Jeep.
She'd understood Waverly's concern, that she was just worried about her girlfriend. Hell, Wynonna was worried, too. But, she also knew what it was like to be staring down the barrel of losing a career in something you loved so much and knew that walking on eggshells around Nicole wasn't going to change that. Honestly, it would probably only make it worse.
Wynonna pulled up to the hospital at 11:45, making this officially the first time Wynonna Earp was ever early for something. (Her sister would've killed her if she wasn't there at the exact moment Nicole got out of therapy, and fear of the wrath of Waverly Earp was a more than powerful motivator).
Dr. Del Rey gave her a nod as she sat in the waiting area, Brandon the physical therapist behind him and Nicole trailing behind him, out of the cast, but still using crutches to take pressure off of the healing leg.
"Despite what she'll tell you, today was a good day. Lots of good progress." He told her as they waited for Nicole.
"She still giving you guys trouble?"
"If you're asking if she's kicked any more of our therapists, no she hasn't." He chuckled, bringing up one of Nicole's sessions a few weeks ago where they were working resistance bands to regain knee strength and her leg slipped and ended up connecting with the technician.
"Well that's good, but is she still unreceptive? I know Waverly said that she's struggling with going through all the steps."
"She's gotten a little bit better, from what I've been present to see, but Brandon says she's still frustrated with how slowly things are going."
"She had a knee reconstruction and rods holding her leg together, that takes time." Wynonna acknowledged, which was pointing out the obvious to the literal expert.
"I know that, but if you think you can convince Red that she can't just go hop right back out on the ice, I'd love your help."
"She's stubborn."
"She'll need it if she wants to get back out there."
"Do you think she'll be able to play again? Like seriously." She asked, seeing it as a good segue into the topic.
"I won't lie," he brought his hand over his patchy beard, "most people recover only enough function to walk normally, never mind the agility and explosiveness needed in the sport."
"Jesus, good luck telling Haught that."
"My point is, I think that if anyone can get back, it would be her—as long as she follows the steps and trusts the process, no matter how long it takes."
Wynonna nodded.
"We'll make sure of it. I'll give her a kick in the ass if she tries to go rogue."
After some initial struggle of getting Nicole up into (and back out of) Wynonna's truck, the pair settled into the homestead. Wynonna helped herself to some of the leftovers in the fridge and settled down in front of the TV with a movie on while she left Nicole to do her own thing upstairs. She was flipping channels trying to find something to watch, leaving it on the Blue Jays game when she heard a crash from upstairs.
Wynonna sprung to her feet and practically flew up the stairs, anxious to see what she might find when she got to the top.
"Nicole?" She called, seeing the door to Waverly's room closed. She received no answer. "Haught?" As she stepped closer to her sister's door, she heard a groan come from the opposite direction—the bathroom. "You good in there, Haughtpants?"
"Yeah, fine and dandy, just peachy," Nicole said, trying to be her normal cheesy self, but her voice was filled with more than mild discomfort.
"You sure?"
"Mhm, ahh," Nicole hissed in pain, contradicting her words, "I'll be out in just a—fuck—second."
"Nicole, you don't sound good," Wynona pressed, actually concerned by what might be behind the door. "I'm coming in, so you better be decent."
"No, Wynonna, don't—"
Nicole protested, but Wynonna was already barging through the door to find the redhead on the floor, her face twisted in a mixture of pain and embarrassment. A few of the things that normally sat on the sink were scattered across the floor, but nothing looked broken.
"Woah, Nicole, are you okay?" She asked, crouching down. "Be honest with me."
"Yeah, I'll be fine." Nicole said, but winced again.
"You didn't hit your head did you?" Wynonna tried to assess the situation. At least it looked like Nicole fell on her left side and not the bad, all broken and bruised up side.
"No. Seriously, I'm okay."
"What even happened?"
"I wanted to take a shower because I was all sweaty and gross from PT," she started to explain, and Wynonna noticed the change of clothes sitting on top of the toilet seat, "I sat down for a minute and I guess I stood up too fast and got a little dizzy, and…timber."
Nicole tried to joke and make light of the situation, usually Wynonna's calling card, but the older woman couldn't bring herself to find the humor.
"Haught, you know it's okay to ask for help."
"You're telling me you'd've been willing to help me shower?" Nicole challenged from her position on the floor.
"God no, that's more Waverly's department," she teased, "I don't need to see your pasty ass."
"Exactly, so that's why I tried to do it myself."
"Look where that got you." Nicole frowned at Wynonna's words. Wynonna gave Nicole another look over, noticing the pain she was exhibiting, all but trembling as they conversed. "Come on, let me help you up. When did you last take your painkillers?"
"I don't need them right now, I'm fine."
"You're fine?" Wynonna challenged.
"Mhm."
"You might wanna tell your body and your face that." Wynonna stood to open the medicine cabinet, finding the bottle of Nicole's pain meds fuller than it should've been considering it'd been three weeks since it had been refilled. She'd had her suspicions, but now had confirmation. "Uh, Little Red Riding Hood, care to explain?"
"Explain what?"
"Explain to me why you've been skipping taking your painkillers, Naughty Haughty."
"Because I don't need them."
"Come on, even you don't believe yourself right now."
"I've seen the way people get addicted to them, I don't wanna even risk it."
"People get addicted when they take them after they stop needing them," Wynonna said pointedly. "You very clearly need them, so stop torturing yourself and take it when you need to. You won't get better any faster if you're constantly in pain."
"God you sound like such a mom right now," Nicole scoffed. "It's like I don't even know you."
"I'm just looking out for my stupid, stubborn best friend," she said, stepping toward the redhead to pick her up off the floor before Nicole could even fight it. "Now what you're gonna do, is take one of these," she shook a painkiller from the orange bottle, "drink some water, and go lay down and you can shower and be gross with my sister when she gets back later."
"Thank you, Wynonna," Nicole mumbled from where Wynonna had sat her down on the toilet seat. It was barely louder than a whisper, but Wynonna heard it all the same.
Wynonna learned pretty early in life not to expect the universe to make her life normal or uncomplicated.
That's why she wasn't exactly surprised that there was another crash from upstairs later on in the evening, Waverly still not returned from the city. She groaned as she removed herself from the couch, but didn't sprint upstairs like she had earlier. The door to Waverly's room was open this time, and Wynonna could see the aftermath of someone's rage from where she stood in the hallway.
"Nicole?" She supposed she should stop, considering she never got an answer when she called. At least this time the source of the noise was coming from the room. She stepped into her sister's room taking in its disheveled state.
The duvet had been pulled completely off the bed and the pillows and blankets met a similar fate, being thrown haphazardly onto the floor. Wynonna quickly understood what was going on when she saw Nicole's award plaques and team photos scattered on the floor. That had to have been the crashing she'd heard. And then there was Nicole, sitting in front of the mirror, a pair of scissors in her hand, eyes wild and red with tears, holding a lock of her hair between the shears, but not yet making the cut.
"Woah, hey, Nicole." She approached calmly, having been on the redhead's end of a mental breakdown one too many times. "Hey, whatcha doin'?" No answer. "You know, Purgatory's got some great hair salons—well, not great per se, but they are hair salons, technically—I could book you an appointment, no need for the DIY."
One she took one step closer, Nicole brought the shears closed, and they both watched as red hair fell to the floor. Well, there was no going back now.
"I'm not her. I'm not her. I'm not her." Nicole chanted under her breath. An odd mantra, Wynonna remarked.
"You're not who, Nicole?" she tried.
"Her." Nicole shifted her eyes to the photos and her awards.
Oh.
"Well, actually, you are. Unless you're living some sort of double life Waves and I don't know about." Wynonna jested. "You're not some sort of Russian spy, are you?"
"No." Nicole said, though Wynonna's words were distracting enough to allow the older woman time to take the scissors away before any more hair became a casualty. "But I'm not that girl. I'm not that rookie of the year, that MVP—if I can't play again, I'm not her. I'm not me."
Wynonna's heart broke, seeing the fight normally in Nicole's eyes so blatantly absent.
"Who's saying you can't play again?"
"No one's saying it, but everyone knows it." Nicole snapped hopelessly. "It's been six weeks Wynonna, and I can barely walk down the hallway or up a flight of stairs."
"Dude. Shut up." She said sternly; Nicole was taken aback by the straightforwardness. "You had your entire leg broken and put back together, it's not magically gonna go back to normal overnight. It takes time. Dr. Bobo said you're making great progress. Just don't rush it. It'll come if you trust the process."
"Even if I do get back, what if I'm not the same?"
"You won't be."
"Real comforting." Nicole rolled her eyes.
"I'm not gonna sugar-coat it for you. You're gonna be different, but different doesn't have to equal worse. Look at Shan and Vic, they had knee surgery and worked hard to get back and now they're smarter, tougher players for it." Wynonna said, but Nicole looked unconvinced. "Look, I'm not saying it'll be easy, but I know you and I know how much you love this game and how much it means to you. Don't let this little pity party or identity crisis get in the way of you getting back to where you want to be."
"It's annoying when you're right." Nicole grumbled yet again, voice starting to water along with her eyes. "I thought I was supposed to be the level-headed one in this relationship."
"Well, figured it was high time to flip that dynamic over for a bit."
Nicole smiled at her, but let tears escape her eyes as she buried her head into Wynonna's shoulder.
"I'm scared, Wynonna."
"I know. But you'll get through it. I'm here for you, and you know Waverly is too, and all your teammates and Nedley and Doc and everyone is in your corner, Haught. Let us help you."
Nicole nodded against Wynonna's shoulder. (She could feel the ginger's tears soaking the material of her shirt, but chose to ignore it for now).
After a few moments of letting Nicole cry, the redhead picked up her head to look in the mirror.
"Oh god, my hair." She gasped at the lopsided mess she created by cutting off such a big chunk.
"Yeah, not your best choice," Wynonna teased. "Why'd you do that anyway?"
"I wanted a change. Everything's been so out of my control and so crazy, and this was something I could actually control." Nicole sighed, and Wynonna eyed her. "And, it's embarrassing having to have my girlfriend braid my hair every morning."
"I thought you'd be all over that," she snickered, "you know, since you're all grossly in love and all that shit."
"Shut up. I would like to have some autonomy in my life."
And then Wynonna was struck with an idea. She wasn't any sort of professional, but she knew what a straight line looked like (more or less).
"Oh! I know. Give me the scissors."
Nicole handed her the scissors cautiously, eyeing the brunette as Wynonna took them from her and spun her around.
"Wynonna, what're y—"
Snip.
"Shhhh," she silenced her. "I swear to god you're only here to interrupt my artwork, huh?"
Snip. Snip. Snip.
"No, I just think I should know what you're doing with scissors so close to my hea—"
"—and voila!"
Wynonna turned Nicole back to the mirror and smiled proudly as Nicole stared wide-eyed at her newly shortened hair, running her hand along the bottom of the shoulder-length locks.
"This is so much better than I imagined it would look."
"I'd definitely look into seeing a professional to touch it up, but, yeah—"
"—Shut up Wynonna. Thank you."
"Okay okay," Wynonna relented, allowing Nicole to give her a hug. (She pretended to be grossed out by the affection, but deep down they both knew that she enjoyed it). "But for the record, all I did was make you a little less red, same amount of Haught."
"You're ridiculous."
And maybe she was, but they were both a little ridiculous. That's what made their friendship work.
Their friendship had surprised Wynonna the most, even if she'd been the one to initiate it. Nicole was the newbie who followed all the rules, usually to an annoying extent, and she was the old-timer, town pariah who saw rules as a mere suggestion. She'd never thought that over the course of the last ten months that they'd become as thick as thieves. Maybe she owed it partly to Nicole's relationship with Waverly, but she also knew that there was something about their friendship that clicked. Aomething that just worked. Kind of like the way Yin and Yang worked. (Curse Waverly and her hippie, Zen, knowledge bullshit). It was actually a perfect analogy. For how different the two of them were, they had just enough in common that connected them, allowing them to benefit from each other's differences. She'd noticed here and there the way that she thought twice about breaking one of the arena rules or skipping one of her duties, or the way she'd have one of those stupid bumper sticker phrases in her head for days because of Nicole. And, she'd noticed the way that Nicole had become less uptight and more receptive to loosening her stranglehold death grip on the rules, especially when the two of them had tossed back a couple cold ones.
Being a girl who had a bad reputation around these parts made it hard for Wynonna to form any sort of lasting relationship or make any real friends. But here she was with her family (both the blood relatives and her found family) and a (mostly) stable relationship with Doc, and things were good, like actually, truly good. Nicole was her best friend, and she was Nicole's; it was one of the things she was proudest of in her life.
Nicole yawned signaling that she'd had enough for one day. Wynonna helped her up and assisted her with her routine before Nicole got into bed and knocked out pretty much immediately. Wynonna picked up most of the stuff that had been tossed to the floor and cleaned up the chopped off red hair and the bits of broken glass from the picture frames. She turned off the bedside lamp and closed the door gently, practically knocking Waverly over when she turned to walk back downstairs.
"Woah, hey, everything okay?" Waverly asked once they were both steady on their feet.
"Yeah, fine actually."
"How's Nicole? How was her PT?"
How is Nicole? Well that was a question, now wasn't it?
"Dr. Del Rey said she's coming along well, even if she doesn't see it."
"That's good," Waverly nodded. "How about the rest of the day? Did you guys have a good day?"
"Yeah, yeah, it was good." She said, though she could tell her voice betrayed her and Waverly wasn't buying it.
"Wynonna," she pressed.
"Okay, okay. It was a good day, their might've been an incident this afternoon—nothing major, just she fell down in the bathroom—"
"—She fell down in the bathroom!?"
"She fell down in the bathroom," Wynonna repeated, ignoring the interruption, "but we talked, and I checked her out and she's fine. She needs a shower, but she's fine."
She could tell Waverly wanted to ask all the details but had changed her mind and decided to trust Wynonna instead.
"Okay," she sighed. "Other than that it was a good day?"
"Yeah, up until she had a mental breakdown and kinda trashed your room."
"Jeez Wynonna, why didn't you tell me, or call?"
"Because I had it handled. Before when she fell, and again when she went all Hulk Smash on her photos and awards. She's fine, so there was no need to worry you," Wynonna tried her best to sound soothing and ease her sister's nerves, but she knew that Waverly wouldn't relax until she saw for herself that Nicole was okay. She stepped out of Waverly's path to the door, her sister eager to go inside. "She's asleep right now, but I'm sure she'd love whatever gross cuddling you're gonna try. Just a head's up," she held her hand up to stop Waverly for just a second, "we may or may not have gone all Jonathan Van Ness on her hair, but that's just a sign of how good a day we had."
"God you two are ridiculous," Waverly rolled her eyes as she entered the bedroom.
"Yeah, I guess we are," Wynonna said, smirking to herself as she walked back downstairs to her own bed.