"Bring me the frog." Margo says, shifting her readied shotgun a little safer in her arms. "It's time She ra settled up her debts. She knew what would happen if she tried to back out on our deal and clearly, she's done so."
Waverly's screams were, of course, the loudest yet muffled as they passed the tied-off bandanna secured around her mouth just as Wynonna, Michelle, and a heavily beaten Randy Nedley were all held just as captive beside her.
The runaway Earp mother decided to restart her search for her long-lost love far closer to the last point she'd truly known him to be.
Neither of her daughters had the heart to confess amid the following battle since their mother's return that the man she was hunting so fiercely had been honorably buried alongside Curtis out in the tomato patch out back of the homestead.
An almost giddy Cleo crosses first towards Waverly at the command of her smirking mother, only to pause in thought before turning her attention to a glaring Wynonna.
"Cough up the ginger, Earp"
Wynonna only continued to glare.
"Seriously?" Cleo scoffs, glancing up towards the demon hunter's tied hands at the shifted scraping of the bound woman's wrists to catch the characteristics gesture now aimed at her. "Real mature." The searching Clanton hissed, pawing yet again at the trust-up woman's pockets. Even going so far as to squat down to peel off Wynonna's boots and socks in her inspection, remembering how often she'd heard of the dark-haired annoyance's habit of keeping her legendary gun tucked into her footwear.
"She doesn't have her."
Even Nedley, the wolf-skinned hat now just clinging to his head as he moved, stiffens at the rough bark of Holt's tone as the burly Clanton stomps into the drafty barn-turned makeshift holding cell guarded by several invisible but felt Clanton kept reapers growling in guard along the only available points of escape.
A half-conscious seeming Rachel stumbling along beside him, shackled with police handcuffs at her wrists, unlike her rope bond companions, as she staggered into the newly arrived acting sheriff.
"Found her just like you said." The Clanton heir grinned, shoving the already off-balanced teenager into the dirt alongside her companions, then respectfully taking off the white sheriff's hat, resting mocking at his brow as he looked towards his smirking mother. "They went for Billy. Just as planned. Seems ginger here was trying to play look out. Not that she was much good." He chuckled, lifting the croaking, struggling hostage of a frog embodied Nicole Haught held in restraint in his hatless hand higher for all to see.
"You goodie, goods. Always so predictable." Margo Clanton laughed without the smallest trace of humor or any true emotion in her voice as she gave a hard look to each face of her newest captives. Her son taking his rightful place at her side. The frog-turned woman that had been nothing but a ginger-haired thorn in her side, finally subdued as the bratty teenager that had turned her youngest boy's head curls with a pathetic groan as she rightfully sags onto the ground at Margo's feet.
"Why the heck did you even decide to come back?" the gloating Clanton asks in a moment of rare curiosity as her eyes lift towards the fellow matriarch restrained in front of her.
Michelle Gibson gave almost as loud of a hands gesture as her daughters at the laughed asking.
"Oh well, that isn't very nice now, is it?" Margo sighed, rocking back on her heels away from them all. "and here I was going to surprise you."
Margo's smile widened at the nervous looks of the Earp sisters on either side of their equally tied-up mother. "Ohhh. You two haven't told her yet, have you?" she laughed, clapping her hands with a forced bark of honest laughter. "Ooh, now this….this is just the icing on the cake."
Even Holt and Cleo winced at the loud summoning whistle their mother gave them a calling: "Charlie." Towards the open-air doorway. "Hey, Charlie," Margo called again with a wickedly amused smile at the heavy scraping of boot steps that soon followed the whip snap of a call.
"You remember that stud of a firefighter your wild one middle daughter was dabbling with before you skipped town again, don't you?" the Clanton mother questions. "Had the whole firehouse heating up if I remember the gossip right."
Again, Wynonna could only glair whilst Waverly looked more than a little green at the mocking words.
"Well, seems to me you should meet him." Margo prods amusement dripping from every word. "It's only a motherly right, after all. Meet the man defiling your daughter right under your very nose. Face to face. Only fair, right?"
By now, it looks as if only the hindrance of the gag at her mouth kept Waverly from truly vomiting.
"Holt. Be a good boy and untie the lady, will you?" Margo instructs, gesturing with her chin towards a puzzled but still angered Michelle Gibson
Even her watching son seems shocked by the request.
"Do it." Margo growls as scraping and stumbling footsteps draw closer outside the gravel-strewn pathway. "I'll keep a close grip on our fair little ginger." She adds, holding her hand for the still quietly croaking frog her son kept cupped in his palm.
Both the Earp sisters close their eyes at that first glimpse of the sleeve of that dirt-covered white of the summoned reaper's tee shirt still tucked so neatly into the buckled jeans the dead man was wearing.
Worse still was their mother's gasped, "Julian?" when the angel-turned-firefighter turned Clanton-controlled lap dog ambled into more proper view like some pitiful extra from a zombie movie.
Holt wasn't too pleased if his uncomfortable cough suggested his changing mood. Michelle gave another wild sobbing gasp as she looked from Charlie- but not Charlie to Wynonna and back again as the new information sunk in.
Charlie turns to Holt's watching eyes, looking like a curious puppy towards the tear-stricken Gibson woman. "Uh, Mom?" he starts to question, wondering what this could have to do with bringing Doc Holiday to them.
"Holt, dammit boy, go make yourself useful and track down that gunslinging, family-murdering vampire so we can finally end this." Margo snarls now, struggling more than ever to keep a grip on the slippery Nicole attempting to twist from her clenched-fisted hand. "Since holding most of those he is meant to hold dear hostage isn't enough to flush the rat from his den."
"Fine. I guess it's the quick way for you." The Clanton mother snaps, flinging her hand and Nicole's frog self towards the low, simmering, forged setup in one corner of the multi-used space with a dulled "Goodbye Nicole. Die well."
The frogged woman landed just shy of the intended fiery ending, much to Margo and Cleo's disappointment. Holt seemed to be making it his quiet mission to keep a tearful Waverly from watching her fiancée's more permanent demise.
The motion drew Julian's attention from his quiet curiosity about the offered Michelle Gibson.
Even Cleo gasped at the bloodied, life-ending stab to the back the turning man offered them as he twisted and then dropped to his knees, scooping up the now-injured amphibian.
"No…hurt….her." the reaper man rasped his angelic voice like rocky sandpaper to their ears as he cradled the thing against his bloodied chest. "Her…..b-long…-daughter…..love her….."
Margo's eyes flicked between the pair and Waverly, now a chilly manic glee burning in her gaze as she laughed. "Oh, we're not going to do anything." The Clanton woman promises. "you are."
The angel reaper snarls in denial, hugging the nervous croaking frog closer. "N-No." he tries to resist. "N-no-hurt."
"Kill that frog," Margo commands.
The reaper that was what remained of Julian growls out in pain as he shakes his head, trying hard to resist despite the fact his hands had already started closing tightly around the struggling things so fragile body.
"No." Julian roars, falling pitifully to his knees as his grip grows tighter.
Wynonna and Waverly are both struggling in earnest, now earning Cleo and Holt's full attention to try and keep the sisters contained as a sinfully pleased Margo sits back and watches the scene unfolding with humorless laughter.
"Fight her, Julian." Michelle encourages, dragged back by several more of the Clanton reapers, "Fight for our Waverly."
The words earn a hard backhand with the butt of a gun from Margo, nearly breaking the Earp mother's jaw in the process with the strength of the attack.
"Give her to me," Margo ordered, dropping the gun against her side and holding out her weaponless hand for the feebly struggling thing in the swaying reaper's clenched hands.
"Watch her die." The Clanton mother orders, earning the gaze of every eye in the room.
The screeching sounds of Nicole's last frog-taken scream before being so finally cut off burn themselves into every mind of the listeners as the stoked fire of the Clanton forge burned hotter still as Margo made extra sure no trace of the frogged former sheriff would be left to mourn.
Her efforts came to a literal screeched out haul as a trembling Waverly Earp lifted her chin to meet Margo's equally wild eyes.
Her skin had turned an oddly ashen color as the two looked at one another. All color drained out of those glaring eyes as the tearful younger Earp sister ripped her bound arms down from their captive place shackled over her head. The whole roof seemed to groan in warning with the movement's strength.
But the darkened appendages now sprouting from the enraged woman's shoulder blades earned the lion's share of Margo's attention as Waverly stalked closer.
Wings.
Honest to heaven….
Wings.
She catches sight of a dazed Holt seeming to be fumbling for something in his front breast pocket once her rock-brained son shook himself from his thrown-away landing whilst Margo herself was still being backed into the corner of her family barn be a winged something whose fiancée, she'd singlehandedly barbequed.
"Holt….Holt, you fool, get over-" Margo tries to cough out in command, but her son seemed more obsessed with fiddling with the button on his, seeming to be moving his front pocket once the bulk of a man had gained a little more clarity than the rest of them. Cleo was useless to her, having been knocked completely unconscious when she'd landed back to solid ground before the curtained fall of darkened wings blocked Margo's view of any possible means of help.
Waverly's hand closes fast around Margo's throat as she drags the hazed woman back to her feet, then just as effortlessly, completely from the ground.
"You will suffer like one other in known history. In any semblance of time." The nicest person in Purgatory vows, her voice eerily soothing as Margo can dimly see her traitorous son helping the Earps towards the barn doorway behind her.