Even when we found her in that house she had looked beautiful despite her injuries...dimples still hot enough to burn a polar bears ass.
It was much earlier that day that she had tried to take a brave step away from what was expected of her and towards what she wanted, what she deserved. It had never been part of her plans to fall for Nicole and she hadn't realised how hard she was falling until that day.
Jack of knives sure was lucky that Wynonna killed him quickly.
She had been furious at him for what he did, even if he was dead.
At least if he was still alive I could kill him myself.
Prioritising Nicole's health and safety, she had hidden her anger deep inside of her. It was a rage rivalling her father's, worthy of one of his rare turbulent fits where the sounds of him smashing up whatever he got his hands on were interspersed by quiet periods. During these respites she could hear the scratches of a lighter and his swigs from a bottle from her and Wynonna's hiding spot.
Turning to the window she forces down the useless anger that threatens to flare, instead focusing on the interplay between the weak sunlight and the shadows of the blinds but it only brings her back to her thoughts again.
Similar sunlight had threatened to peek through heavy clouds on a sulky walk to the edge of town after a particularly muddled conversation outside the police station. She kept telling herself that she wasn't hoping that Nicole would chase after her. Nicole didn't and there was no apologetic message or phonecall either, so Waverly returned to the station after a long bitter walk ready to give her a piece of her mind. Encountering only a bothered Sheriff Neadley, she had spun on her heel and walked out the door.
Unable to find a distraction good enough she had found herself back in the station several hours later. It seemed that either Nicole was still out or was just avoiding her so she entered the black badge headquarters determined to get some work done.
After getting Dolls' instructions wrong the third time in a row and coming close to injuring him, he relegated her to research. Attempts to read "The Primetiva" a text on talismans had failed miserably, so when the sheriff came in to talk to Dolls some time later, she began eavesdropping, finding out that one of his officers wasn't answering their radio or phone. She strained a wee bit too far in her chair when she had heard Nicole's name, falling off the edge, chair tumbling after her. The two men turned to look down at her, a bewildered expression on the Sheriff's face while Dolls had casually raised an eyebrow holding out his hand for her to take.
Red faced she then explained what Nicole had been talking about when she last saw her, (leaving out some select details), and this had prompted a plan of action which included calling Wynonna and Doc in, finding the missing squad car, and searching the surrounding area. Convincing Dolls to let her come with them had been the hardest part. She had to promise to do everything he told her to which she dutifully went along with until they got inside the house. As soon as she heard the faint sound of Wynonna's voice, she overtook him and ran towards it. She entered the room it came from and took a shaky step backwards, eyes staggering as they took in Nicole's slumped figure. Wild paralysing terror bubbled up inside her until Nicole's gaze pulled her in and made her forget it all as she closed the gap between them, nothing existing but Nicole and her injuries.
They always seemed to gravitate towards each other.
If I'm being honest with myself I felt that pull...that magnetising effect from the first day I saw her.
She had been outside having a coffee with Gus chatting away when movement in her peripheral vision tugged at her attention. She tried to ignore it and concentrate on Gus' story but it insisted on being seen. Across the street her eyes alighted on the sheriff and the officer he was talking to. A woman who held herself with an abundance of confidence wearing a large hat that would have looked ridiculous on most people but not her. She had thought the woman pretty and that was before she smiled.
Oh what a smile.
It was like the first time I was in a library.
She had faltered from the force of it, stuttering out a reply to Gus, thrown off by something she didn't understand yet, putting it down to curiosity over someone she hadn't noticed before.
Everybody knew everybody in Purgatory.
The scene had popped into her head various times afterwards. More often then not it was when she had a few mintues alone, which was usually when she was reading or the less busy times in the bar.
And then she had just gone waltzing right out of her mind and strutting into the bar...
She had thought about girls before, but had hidden that part of herself, ignoring it, telling herself that she already liked boys, how that was plenty sufficient and she had enough in her life that made her stand out.
Weirdo, freak, Earp, goody two shoes, teachers pet.
Worse abuse as she got older.
But then Champ had stopped most of that. When they got together school had turned into a haven instead of an ordeal. He could be a complete asshat but he wasn't all bad. Plenty of people had abandoned her but he had always stayed.
Well he'd leave but it'd never be for more than a couple of days.
That ability to stay was probably what had attracted her most about him. That and the fact that people saw her as more than an Earp, more than the little weirdo sister and treated her like a normal person when she was with him. She still had to work hard on being nice, keeping certain opinions and thoughts to herself so she wouldn't create any animosity even when someone had been disrespectful.
Her life had changed hugely in the past few months and looking back now she could see how she had settled instead of reaching for more. Wynonna coming back had started a chain of events which had opened her eyes to the full reach of what life could be.
And who I should be spending it with...
Someone with whom she could speak her mind without fear of judgement, who didn't attack her with affection, who listened to her, who accepted and encouraged her to be herself.
Not that Nicole was without fault..she snored sometimes.
She preferred the snoring though, it meant that she was sleeping soundly. The night terrors were fairly infrequent now compared to what they were.
Oakley interrupts her odyssey of thoughts, rubbing against her leg, Waverly's fingers twitch before she bends down to pet her.
"Maybe you should talk to someone?" had not been taken well the first time she had suggested it to Nicole. She had let Waverly peek at her insecurities, opened up to her and let her take care of her. But this question had Nicole hastily erecting her stoic facade, the one that hide the parts of herself perceived to be weak.
Nicole was fine during the day and but she wasn't safe in her dreams, thrashing and whimpering in her sleep, Waverly softly waking her when it got too intense. It was never as bad as that first night but Nicole always woke up shivering or crying or both.
Waverly had broached the subject again (several times) but was unsuccessfull. She tried again one peaceful afternoon when she was helping Nicole change her bandages. It always took longer than it should, Nicole's abs were...distracting.
It's as if they were carved from marble, along with her perfectly sculpted arms...every body part poetry.
As Waverly's fingers had gently traced around the bruises on Nicole's ribs, she had taken a deep breath and said, "I know you don't want to see a therapist but.. " her eyes meeting ones filled with chaos before Nicole had looked away.
A small voice muttered, "I'm going on Monday."
She hadn't expected that Neadley would be the one to convince Nicole. He had cited department regulations but she knew that he genuinely cared for his officer.
That Monday, Nicole had stubbornly refused to have Waverly or anyone else come with her, insisting that she was capable of a short walk. They had almost fought until Waverly had seen a hint of tears and had backed down, remembering how Nicole had felt about the wheelchair.
That didn't stop her from waiting outside the building Nicole had gone in to. She had left twenty minutes after Nicole, not knowing how long it would take for Nicole to complete a five-minute walk in her still healing condition.
It was maybe half an hour later when Nicole had slammed open the door and strode out, eyes red and puffy. Nicole stopped in front of her with emotions brawling across her face, jockeying for place before defeat wins out. A millisecond passed before she pulls Nicole into a fierce hug, holding her tightly as Nicole burrows her face in her hair.
On the walk home from that first session, Nicole had immediately shied away from talking about what was discussed and Waverly didn't prod. Instead Nicole brought up her grandfather and told her stories of time spent with him, school holidays when she was young and later living with him. The only time nightmares were mentioned was in a tale that involved an adorable eight year old Nicole. When she had awoke one night terrified, her grandfather had calmed her down and then proclaimed that half of a glass of milk before bed would keep the nightmares away.
That anecdote inspired Waverly to start a nightly ritual that had worked so far.
Sure the therapy might be helping too but magic milk has a bit more pizzazz about it.
She could see that even physically, Nicole is doing much better than a few days ago. While she still winced when opening a jar, she no longer cursed in pain. Waverly knows the importance of that small change.
She notices Nicole's police shirt hanging up, and fingers the collar, an idea popping in to her head.
