Note: Aaaaaand...we're baaaaaack! Thank you all for you patience with me and sticking with me through this. 2017 was a very bad year for me, but I'm finally in a better place. Literally. I uprooted my life and moved 1,000 miles away from home, which has been scary. But I'm getting settled and getting back to writing.

Gus turned off the ignition on the old truck, but she didn't move. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, replaying recent events in her mind, but they still made no sense. She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, before sighing heavily and opening the truck's door. She winced at the old creak of the door joints and made a mental note to oil it later.

She stepped out of the truck, shivering slightly at the small wind that had picked up. She lifted her face to the stars, breathing deeply. Fall was here, and winter was breathing down her neck. She closed the door behind her with a clang, but hesitated and turned back to peer into the truck. She tugged on the door and reached inside, grabbing the rifle off the rack.

She rarely ever took it off the rack in her truck, and if asked why now, she probably wouldn't be able to come up with a solid reason as to why she was doing it, but still she tucked the butt under her arm and made the short walk to the front porch. She stomped her feet a few times, before pushing the door open and hastily stepping inside.

She set the rifle down in the corner behind the door and toed off her boots, before slipping into the kitchen.

"Hey."

She nodded to her older niece, "thought you were out on patrol with Nicole?"

Wynonna sighed and grimaced before raising the glass of water to her lips and sipping slowly. She hadn't consumed nearly enough alcohol to feel this shitty. Maybe she was getting old.

"Yeah, we did a patrol. Still can't find Nedley. Finally heard from Dolls. He's with Doc. Said Doc is sick." She leaned back against the counter frowning at the glass of water in her hand. "Dolls sounded…." she shrugged, "I dunno. Agitated. I mean dude always agitated, but this was different."

Gus shook her head and opened the refrigerator door, peering inside with little interest, before closing it and leaning against it staring at Wynonna's profile. Her older niece seemed...subdued almost, which was very unlike her. She quashed the pang of worry igniting in her belly.

"Waverly is sick. She's acting kind of weird too."

"Weird?" Gus straightened, the worry growing in her belly and make her slightly nauseous.

Wynonna turned and set the glass down, looking out the window over the sink. "Yeah. She's cranky. Snappy. If I didn't know better, I'd think she wasn't getting laid." Wynonna chuckled out of force of habit, knowing it wasn't funny, but not sure how else to act. "So I decided to stay. Nicole went back out for one more patrol, then she's coming back here for a late dinner. Told her I'd make my specialty."

Gus snorted and rolled her eyes. "Your speciality could kill a demon, Wynonna. God knows ketchup doesn't belong on macaroni and cheese!"

Wynonna just shrugged, "Yeah but the hot dogs in the mac n cheese makes up for it."

Gus shook her head again, a small smile flickering at the corner of her mouth. She pushed away from the refrigerator and walked over to the cupboard, rooting around in side, pulling out different items and setting them down. "How about eggs and pancakes and bacon instead?"

"With the chocolate chips in them?"

Gus nodded, the smile twitching at her lips again. She busied herself organizing the ingredients, pulling out bowls, still too early to begin cooking, but at least she could get it set up. Besides, she needed to keep her hands busy, while she worked out what was going on.

"So anything weird happening in town?"

"Where were you anyway?"

They spoke at the same, and Wynonna smirked and waved her hand at Gus, "go ahead."

"Anything weird happening in town?"

Wynonna stared at Gus for a moment, wondering why she would think to ask that question. She rubbed her head, the headache blooming behind her eyes. "Yeah. Plenty weird actually. Why? Where were you?"

Gus' hands stilled, and she looked down at the flour for a moment. "I got a call from old Margy Thompson. You know how she is. Crazy as a loon, but harmless." Gus turned and looked at Wynonna, resting her hip against the counter, and crossing her arms over her chest.

"She said…" she hesitated knowing just how stupid it was going to sound, but then again this was Purgatory. She chuckled and shook her head. "She said that there were angels fornicating on her front lawn, and could I come by and tell them to stop, else they'd get turned into demons and sent to hell."

Wynonna sputtered and laughed, the sound loud in the small kitchen. "Oh god, how old is she now? DIdn't they always claim she was witch or something?" She shook her head, still chuckling.

"Thing is...she wasn't wrong. There were angels fornicating on her lawn!"

Wynonna choked on her laugh, her eyes widening, "what the actual hell!"

"Language!"

Wynonna ducked her head and nodded. "Angels? In Purgatory? I mean demons yeah, but we've never had any angels. We could use some," she muttered.

Gus leaned forward, "The angels…" she chuckled, "the angels were members of the First Purgatory Church. The choir specifically. All in their angel outfits. Guess they were doing a dress rehearsal for the upcoming Christmas play."

"But that's months away!"

Gus rolled her eyes, "you know how they are at that church. With Linda J. Peabody in charge, everything has to be perfect, which means practicing months ahead of the big event." Gus shook her head, "that woman is involved in every church and social event in Purgatory, but she's meaner than a billy goat with a toothache."

Wynonna snorted, "and was she there? Oh god! Please tell me that useless Alpha was there dressed as an angel and fornicating and engaging in all manner of sin on the front lawn!"

"Head Angel." Gus smirked and leaned towards Wynonna again, "And she was standing tall in the front lawn, getting some pretty decent head from Josiah Crag. Guess being toothless means you give good head. And she was singing the Hallelujah chorus."

"No!" Wynonna swatted Gus' arm, her shoulders shaking in laughter. "Oh god. What a sight!"

"Yup. I'm never going to be able to unsee the church choir carousing and fornicating on Margy Thompson's front lawn while dressed in white and gold angel costumes." She nodded her head, before turning her attention back to the counter. She grabbed the package of chocolate chips and held them in her hands for a moment, weighing them. It was enough. She knew Wynonna liked more chocolate and less pancake.

"The thing is...how did they get there? There weren't any vehicles there, just Margy's broken down Volkswagen bus. And none of them could say how they managed to get there. I made them leave. And they were docile for the most part." She shrugged. "Guess they got the crazy out of their systems."

Wynonna said nothing for a long moment. "That's what...15 miles from church to Margy's?"

"About. I guess."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"WYNONNA!" Gus slammed the box of chocolate chips down on the counter, "language, or you'll get soap instead of pancakes for dinner!"

Wynonna made a face - the horrible threat of missing out on Gus' famous pancakes worse than facing an army of Revenants barehanded.

"What about Willa?" Gus asked after a long pause, "has she been acting up too?"

Wynonna shrugged. "Has my sister ever acted normal since we got her back?" Gus waved the box of chocolate chips under her nose, her face a thunderstorm and Wynonna relented, "haven't gotten much out of Waverly when I came back except the usual general dislike for the situation, but no." She rubbed her forehead surreptitiously, the headache quickly growing. Hopefully food would help. "Apparently she's spent the day poring over the old photo albums mom put together when we were kids to see if they would jog her memory."

As if on cue her older sister appeared, a small frown stuck between her eyebrows.

"Wynonna?" She said, half in greeting and half as a question. Her eyes had cleared a bit since they'd found her, Wynonna noticed, but there was a lingering expression of confusion clinging to her face like cobwebs.

"Yep. That's me." She quipped, groaning when Gus' sharp elbow dug into her side.

"Be. Nice." Her aunt growled out of the corner of her mouth, before she turned her attention to Willa, a genuine smile on her face. "Why don't you come sit in the kitchen with us sweetheart? I'm about to make dinner."

"Breakfast." Wynonna grinned and pulled out a chair. "Come on, we can sit together and you can tell me what you think of those old photos?"

It was like drawing a curtain over Willa's face. One moment her face had been open, lighting up like a child's at the prospect of food, but now her eyes turned guarded and cold.

She gave Wynonna the look of a stranger and the Alpha wondered what use it was acting like nothing had happened. But Gus had insisted - it was better to tell Willa about her past and the Earp curse in small doses, so as not to frighten her while she was still obviously fragile.

Yet there was a hardness in her eyes - there for no more than a second and gone so fast that Wynonna thought she'd imagined it - and she shivered.

"I…" Willa hugged herself and shuffled awkwardly, "I don't want to talk about that if it's ok?"

"Then the both of you can set up the table while I cook." Gus swept in providentially.

"Splendid." Wynonna groaned and rolled her eyes, but she was already moving to obey with Willa in tow. "I so love doing chores."

Nedley woke with a groan.

He blinked, the hazy shapes surrounding him resolving into the interior of the cabin he rented when he wanted to go fishing and groaned again, just to make a point.

The point being that his whole body fucking hurt. Something was digging into his back - a box? - and he was sprawled out on the floor in front of the small fireplace for a reason he couldn't quite recall.

He turned his head slowly - firstly because moving any faster sent a wave of nausea rolling over him - and secondly because his mind was working strangely, his head stuffed and ringing as if he was running a cold and fever combo.

His eyes found the window and the sun, which hung lazily above the treetops, told him it was late in the afternoon.

"Fuck." He tried to recall what he'd done after leaving the supermarket the night before and drew a blank. Had he just lost an entire day?

He shakily pulled himself to his feet, his head throbbing and his belly rolling. He stared around at the mess in front of the fireplace, the mess he had apparently been sleeping in: empty boxes of ice cream, torn burrito wrappers, at least two pizza boxes, one with two slices of pizza still in it, resting in a puddle of cold grease and melted cheese.

He shook his head and scratched his belly, wincing as his fingers scraped across paper. He sighed and pulled the yellow and red wrapper that had been stuck to his belly. McDonalds. Double cheeseburger. Except the nearest McDonald's was thirty miles away. He shook his head again, letting the wrapper to fall to the floor.

That was when he noticed he was only in his boxers, and there appeared to be a sticky mess on his legs. He reached down and gingerly touched it, wincing at the way his fingers stuck to the substance. He raised his fingers to his nose and inhaled...Grape. He smiled in relief. Grape...probably one of the grape popsicles that must have come out of the crushed box he had been laying on.

He shuffled his way out of the mess, wincing at the bright sun pouring through the curtains. His fingers felt thick and clumsy as he drew them, wrenching hard and cursing as the curtains refused to slide correctly on their rings. It took too many moments to block out the sun, and he was still left wondering what was wrong with him.

He scratched his head, wincing at the smell from his body. First order of business was a shower. He picked his way across the room, his gaze falling on the old answering machine next to the phone. It was an old rotary phone, a dark polished maroon color. It was a dinosaur in the age of the new fangled computer phones, but he liked it. There was something reassuring about the solid weight of the handle in his palm.

Thirteen messages. He stared at the blinking light. He'd never had thirteen messages before. Only a few people even had this number: the Mayor, Officer Haught, and the Earps. The only people he ever felt he could actually trust in this crazy town. Although, as he started at the light, it occurred to him that maybe he should also give the number to Doc and Dolls. Although, Doc seemed to hate technology about as much as he did, so he wasn't sure the man would bother to ever call anyway.

His finger hesitated over the Play button, unsure as to what unholy hell he was about to release by pushing it. He glanced over his shoulder, staring into the small living room. It was like a bear had rampaged through it looking for food. One chair was upended, all the cushions had been thrown off the old couch, a busted lamp. He'd hated that lamp anyway. And...oh there were his pants draped over the antlers of the buck he'd mounted over his fireplace mantle.

He hit Play.

Sheriff, I'm sorry to bother you, but you aren't at your office, and you aren't picking up your cell phone. I even stopped by your house, but no one has seen you. I hope you're just catching some fish, but honestly...something weird is going on in town. Really weird. Call me please.

Office Haught. She was a good officer, strong and dependable, not prone to panic. He nodded and pushed the forward button.

Sheriff, It's me again. Stopped by your office and house again. Bill said he saw you yesterday evening, you stopped by and uh….

He stared down at the machine...Bill….Bill? Yeah, he'd seen Bill. He could hear the hesitation in her voice, and he scowled wondering what was wrong, why she was holding back what she was trying to say. He scratched the back of his neck. Bill...why had he been in to see Bill? His memories were hazy and out of focus.

...um...you bought a few things? I thought you were on a diet? *Weak chuckle* *Pause* … I'm sorry, Sir, that was impertinent. But things are getting weirder here.

Now he remembered.

Nedley, where the fuck are you? This town is getting weird as fuck! And Nicole is looking a little stressed. She also doesn't look too good...like maybe she's coming down with something. Fuck everyone is.

He cocked his head, listening for what Wynonna wasn't saying. Her breathing was funny, and she sounded sober. Mostly sober. He rubbed his forehead, his head ached was building, and he could feel the nausea building. He really needed some tylenol and an entire bottle of pepto. And a shower. A cold shower. His skin hurt like he'd been sunburned.

….Seriously, Nedley...I think...I think something is wrong. Lots of reports of people doing crazy things...people fucking in the woods. Which you now...good on them. Too many people got sticks shoved up their asses in this town. *Laughter* You'd better get back here. We need you.

The last part must have been hard for her to say. He chuckled. He liked Wynonna, and he liked to think she liked him too, but admitting to needing someone...that just wasn't her style. The only person she needed was Waverly.

Sheriff? It's Waverly? Sheriff, I hope you are ok? Are you ok? No one can find you, and I...I...I'm worried. Please come back.

Typical Waverly...concerned about him. It made him smile, and he ignored the rest of the messages. Turning into the kitchen to grab a bottle of tylenol and then a shower. He stopped at the sight in front of him...glasses and plates all over the counter, the freezer door above the refrigerator hung open. He cautiously peered inside. Nothing but a few pieces of ice.

"What the hell?" He closed the door and looked around, seeing the empty food boxes in his trash can. Piled up around his trash can. He shook his head and kicked a few out of the way, opening the cupboards until he found the bottle of tylenol.

He grabbed it and shook out three and then hesitated before shaking out two more. What the hell, it was the biggest headache he'd ever had. He shoved the bottle back into the cupboard, his fingers scraping against something. He fumbled for a moment before pulling out a family size of box of Cheeze-Its. Unopened.

He could feel his mouth fill with saliva, and heat curl in his belly. His hands shook, and his eyes glazed over. He forgot all about the blinking red light on his answering machine, the dozens of empty food boxes, and Waverly's call for help. He forgot about everything but the hunger that seized his muscles and made him whine and shake.

He tore open the Cheeze-Its.

Wynonna tossed and turned, right on the edge of sleep. With an annoyed huff, she kicked the sheet she'd used to cover herself to the foot of the bed. It was drenched in sweat like the rest of her, even though the night was not hot enough to justify the sweltering heat slithering along her bones.

The Homestead was quiet around her, save for the occasional creaking of old wood. The house breathed, or so Gus was fond of saying, moaned when the high winds battered it in the fall, and sighed as it settled in the middle of summer.

Wynonna had grown up with these sounds around her, and she'd never been scared of the old ranch, not even as a child. After Ward died (after she killed him) and they had sent her away, the absence of noise at night had almost driven her mad. The padded cells of the mental health institution she'd been confined to for a time absorbed all sound, until the roar of one's own thoughts became deafening.

Everyone else was asleep. Waverly had barely pecked at her food, before going outside to sit despondently on the front steps. When Nicole had come back, tired and in a foul mood, the couple had vanished upstairs after a rushed goodnight, leaving Wynonna to clean up with Gus and Willa.

All of them had been sort of maudlin, their conversation muted and snappy, and, one after the other they had followed Waverly's and Nicole's example, retreating to their respective rooms.

She turned again, biting a groan into her pillow before she grabbed it, and, in a flash of anger, threw it against the far wall.

Her aim was off, and the pillow hit the window instead, making the panes vibrate softly.

"Ugh."

Wynonna got up, planning to walk off the tension she felt building inside. Throwing the pillow had been childish and would not help her sleep, but maybe she could open the window and let in a bit of fresh air while she worked off some of her extra energy.

She grunted as she pulled up on the window, cursing under her breath as the sharp scrape assaulted her ears. Sweat broke out on her hairline, and she cursed again, grimacing at the way her hair was starting to stick to her forehead. She heaved again, sighing in relief when the window shook in the base and slammed to the top.

"About fucking time," she muttered under her breath. She groaned as she let herself sink to the floor, wincing as she tried to find a comfortable spot on the faded carpet. She leaned her arms on the windowsill, breathing in as deeply as she could, holding the air in her lungs, before letting it out in a whoosh.

Her head hurt, and her skin felt hot. Hotter than it should have been, since it was relatively cold outside. She stared out across the lawn, the silver blades of grass glowing in the rising moonlight. It was beautiful in an almost perverse way. So much blood lived under the grass, entangled in its roots.

She shook her head, slumping into the windowsill, wishing she'd grabbed a pillow, but too tired to bother to heave herself to her feet and find one. It was peaceful here, in the quiet of the night, under the slumbering moon. She would just sleep here.

CRACK

She stiffened, freezing in place, her eyes raking across the yard, nostrils flaring as she searched for the intrude. She barely breathed, her fingers carefully wrapping around the handle of Peacemaker. It had become second nature to carry it with her everywhere she went, even when she got up to pee at night.

"Waverly, oh Waverly

I miss you - uhhhh

Your eyes shine bright as the light of the mooo -uhhhn

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," she snarled under her breath as Champ walked around the side of the barn and into view, strumming a guitar almost as broken as the sound of his voice.

Waverly, oh Waverly

I need you - uhhhh

So tonight, oh baby please lemme come back with you - uhhh

She leaned out the window, trying not to shout at him and wake the rest of the household, although, she wasn't sure they wouldn't be awake soon anyway, since he sounded more like a screaming cat, and less like a man singing.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Champ?" SHe waved her hand in the air. "You know what...it doesn't matter. Shut the hell up before you wake everyone!"

"But I miss her, Wynonna," he whined.

"Oh my god. You fucking idiot," she hissed. "It's two am, Champ, get the fuck off my property. And stay away from Waverly."

"Is he drunk?"

Wynonna jerked and turned her head quickly to throw a glance behind her, relaxing when she saw Gus and Willa standing in the doorway.

"Sloshing." She turned her attention back to Champ who was plucking away at his guitar again moving slowly towards the porch.

"Hey. Don't even. Get the hell away from the porch! Do not make me come down there, Champ!"

"Please Wynonna! I miss her! I am less of a man without your sister!"

Wynonna snorted, "Hardly. You weren't much of a man to begin with."

Gus rolled her eyes and elbowed Wynonna in the shoulder, as she peered out the window.

"What? It's true!" muttered Wynonna as she rubbed her shoulder, sulking quietly, while Willa chuckled from behind her.

"Th-that really hurts, Wynonna." Champ sniffed and rubbed at his eyes, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. His belly hurt, and sweat was breaking out across his skin despite how cold it was.

"Why do you have to be so mean to me, Wynonna?" He sniffed and rubbed his eyes harder with his fists.

"He seems...dumb."

Wynonna laughed as Gus glared at Willa who just shrugged. "Look at us agreeing on something, sis. And yes, he is dumb."

"Champ, I think it's time to call it a night. I'm going to call your dad to come pick you up."

"I don't need my dad, Gus! I just need Waverly."

Gus sighed and shook her head, before turning and heading downstairs to call Champ Senior. "Just glad Nicole and Waverly are sleeping through this."

"Oh Waverly, my Waverly, my lovely Waveeeeeeeeeerloooooooooooy!"

"Did...did he just howl?"

Wynonna groaned and nodded, letting her gaze slide briefly over Willa who had moved up close behind her. The hair on her arms stood up slightly, and she ignored the unease in her belly. There was something about Willa...something she didn't quite understand. Sometimes she looked at Willa and wondered who she was really seeing. She couldn't see the girl she'd known in Willa. But she supposed that was neither of their fault.

"He isn't very good at that guitar, is he?"

Wynonna winced as Champ started plucking at the guitar strings again, no apparent melody in mind, or any particular talent.

"Oh look. He's going to sing again…"

Wynonna shook her head, her hand wrapping tightly around Peacemaker. "Nope."

She raised it and pointed it at Champ.

"I'm done asking, Champ. It's time for you to leave."

"B-but, Wynonna...I love her!" He whined.

"Nope. You have until the count of three, Champ."

"Waverly is mine, Wynonna!" He snarled, anger building quickly in his chest. He jerked the guitar strap from off his shoulder and flipped the guitar in his hand like a bat.

"Three."

Willa jumped at the roar of the gun, one hand wrapped around the side of the windowsill, knuckles completely white as she stared at the smoking gun in Wynonna's hand.

"Is...is...that…" She reached out her hand, fingers almost making contact with the barrell.

But Wynonna wasn't listening, her eyes trained on the screeching Champ as he stared at his shattered guitar. Peacemaker had blown a hole bigger than his fist into the cheap wood, and it was barely hanging by a string.

Wynonna barely heard the pounding feet from down the hall, but she didn't turn, knowing it was Nicole with Waverly hot on her heels. She could hear Gus yelling from downstairs, and she was vaguely aware of Willa staring at her.

Waverly is mine, Wynonna! She felt cold. Heavy. Anger burned in her bones. Over her dead body.

"You shot my guitar, Wynonna!" He sobbed as he threw it to the ground, the last string snapping back and hitting him in the leg.

"You didn't even count to three!" He hopped around on one leg, face bright red and swollen from tears.

Waverly is mine, Wynonna!

"Get. The. Fuck. Off. Our. Property. Now." She could barely breathe, and her hand shook. She set Peacemaker on the windowsill and pushed herself to her feet, before grabbing the gun and pushing past Willa, who still said nothing, simply stared.

Wynonna sighed as she stepped into the old tub, turning the knobs back and forth as she tried to find a temperature that worked. More often than not the old pipes and water heater simply didn't do the job, and she was left with something that felt a little too lukewarm. But tonight, she turned the water to cold after fiddling with the knobs for a little too long.

She was exhausted and having trouble reigning in her temper. More than usual for her. She'd almost beat Champ with what was left of his stupid guitar by the time Nicole got out to the front yard to stop her. Only Gus' yelling at her, and Waverly's hands on her shoulders had managed to hold her back, but she'd felt so….out of control. She'd never liked Champ, but normally he didn't make her want to bash his head in.

And shooting his guitar might have been extreme, but his words still rang in her head. She could still see the way his lips twisted over his teeth when he said it, the way his eyes had burned deep in their sockets. No, shooting the guitar hadn't been extreme. But she'd wanted to shoot him. But she'd never seen him like that before.

She sighed and grabbed the washcloth and small bar of scented soap, lathering up quickly. The entire incident had been weird. While Champ was an idiot and prone to do act like an entitled punk, it had still been out of character for him. She'd expected him to be drunk, except he wasn't. He was sober. Cold sober, which just made the entire thing even more weird.

It had taken a while to get him to leave, his loud wet sobs echoing in the night as he'd finally driven away loudly proclaiming his love for Waverly. It made her want to laugh...except it didn't. Thankfully Nicole had taken Waverly back to her house, just in case he showed up again.

She leaned her hand against the tile under the shower head, head hanging low as her eyes blurred from the water dripping down her face. Her skin felt hot and dry. She turned the knob all the way to cold, but still she could feel the heat simmering under her skin, scratching at her. She shifted her legs, her feet dragging heavily back and forth on the tub floor. She growled under her breath, her stomach twisting as the first wave of pain hit her.

"What the fuck," she hissed as she dropped the washcloth and soap. "Oh god! Fuck!" She snarled and pressed both hands against the tile, trying to straighten her legs and lock her knees against the pain twisting in her gut.

The muscles in her back bunched and her fingers curled, and she whimpered, her teeth unable to hold back the snarls and whimpers that fell past her white lips. It was too early. Months early. And it felt different this time...like it had the first time when she didn't understand what was happening as her body twisted and her tongue swelled, and her skin burned.

Rut.

Except it was still too early. She shook her head, raising her face, trying to concentrate on the way the drops battered at her. She could feel it, could feel the swelling, the way her muscles tightened and then expanding. It felt like her flesh was splitting, and she bit her lip hard. Too hard.

She didn't notice the crystalline drops of red that melted in the water as it washed down the drain. Instead she stared down between her legs, her mind reeling at the sight of a dick. Her dick. Her Alpha dick.

"What the actual fuck?" She slapped at the tiles, her wet palms skidding across the coarse grooves. She didn't need to worry about rut right now while the town was going to hell. She slapped at the knobs, growling until they finally turned the water off.

She stumbled as she scrambled out of the tub, her limbs too gangly and weak, like a new foal's. She dug around in her pants, smiling when she finally managed to pull the phone free. She hesitated knowing it was late, but this couldn't wait. She fired off the first text.

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: You awake?

HaughtShot: Unfortunately

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: Something weird happened

She hesitated for a moment and then shrugged. A picture was worth a thousand words. It took a few seconds to get the angle correct.

HaughtShot: What the hell, Wynonna?! Did you really just send me a dick pic?

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: Yeah. My dick.

HaughtShot: It's 2:00 AM, I do not want to talk about your dick.

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: I think I'm in rut

HaughtShot: It happens

Wynonna rolled her eyes.

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: Yeah. But it isn't supposed to happen for another two months.

She waited. But nothing. She stared at the phone, waiting for the little dots to appear, and she growled and slapped the sink counter when long moments passed and still nothing. Five and then ten and then fifteen minutes, until she saw the dots appear.

HaughtShot: Oh Goddess….I have one too. Neither Waverly or I have been feeling well, but our heat and rut are months away. I just thought we were getting the flu. It's way too early for rut.

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: Send me a picture.

HaughtShot: Absolutely not. *Frowny Face*

Wynonna laughed. She knew Nicole wouldn't send one, she just liked to poke at the deputy.

Wynonna, the Demon Slayer: Do you think this has anything to do with the weird shit happening the last few days?

HaughtShot: Goddess I hope not. We aren't equipped for the town to go crazy while Nedley is missing and we are in Rut.

Yeah… She stared at her phone for long moments, before finally telling Nicole to take some suppressants and go back to bed. She set the phone down and continued to stare at it, her fingers tapping on the counter. She shifted and winced. It always took a little getting used to. She licked her lips and looked down between her legs. Her belly ached.

"Oh. Yay. A boner. Exactly what I don't need." She grabbed her phone and picked up her clothes, heading to her bedroom. She would need to take care of it before trying to sleep, but her skin still felt hot and her head stuffy. Sleep wouldn't come easy if at all.

She sighed and wrapped her hand around her cock, squeezing it lightly, letting her thumb slide along it. She shivered slightly at slight tingle that skated along her nerves. She stared down at herself, lips twisted into a frown. It was way too early. What could have triggered it.

"Yeah...boner town. Ugh." She sighed and closed her eyes, moving her hand slowly up and down, enjoying the building warmth. She let her mind wander, mentally running through the list of single omegas who might be down to fuck an alpha who went into rut early. An Earp Alpha at that.

She sighed, a smile twitching at her lips as she imagined the feel of lips pressing against her belly, a hot tongue wrapping around the head of her cock, lips closing gently around her, sucking just enough to make her stand on her tiptoes.

She whimpered, her hand moving faster. Tumbling blonde hair, glistening plump lips, bright red lipstick rings on her cock, high heels and slim ankles, a voice like a bastardized angel, and a poison smile.

"Fuck!" She whimpered as she felt herself spill over her hand. She hadn't even been aware of the buildup, hadn't realized she was so close. She stared in dismay at her sticky hand.

"You have got to be kidding me," she muttered as she shook her head and cleaned herself.

She yawned and shuffled off towards her bedroom. Her nerves slightly less frayed, but her limbs still aching. Nothing felt right. Everything was...off. Everything here at the Homestead, in town, explained ruts and heats...

"...not equipped for the town to go crazy...town always going crazy...except this is weird crazy...and we're headed into rut…." she stopped. Hand on the door to her bedroom.

"Fuck."

Note: Thoughts?