ihavecharacter (ihavecharacter) wrote in valloic, @ 2020-08-06 13:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: doc holliday, ₴ inactive: wynonna earp |
WHO: Doc & Wynonna
WHEN: July 28
WHERE: Their apartment
WHAT: Just catching Doc up on some bad and good news
TRIGGERS: Mentions of character death, general emotions, Doc being sad
Doc had fallen asleep somewhat early that night. He had had a long day and there was plenty of stuff to be done. Sleeping in the apartment was certainly something. He continued to prefer the floor over the bed because it was not as soft as the bed. He had considered getting himself a cot as a means of replacement, but he had not yet gone looking. It was still hard to stay in one place at all and he had not quite gotten used to the stillness of the apartment.
He had felt someone moving to sit by him, but he didn’t stir. It was, as far as he knew, Wynonna and if she had been drinking, it was certainly possible that she was just settling down wherever she wanted. He did not mind if it was close to him.
It was the sound of the sniffling that drew him fully out of his slumber. He had seen Wynonna Earp cry before and he had to say that he was not a fan. “Wynonna.” He kept his voice soft and did not immediately move to sit up. He waited for a moment, patting the spot next to him in case she needed to stretch out. If not, then he would sit up and move himself to a seated position next to her.
Ah, dammit. So much for not waking him up. Hearing the soft drawl of his voice say her name made what little control she had over her tears weaken in that moment and she felt more spill onto her cheeks, a rush of shame coming over her as she wiped at them again. “I’m sorry,” she replied in nothing more than a murmur. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” And she really didn’t. Maybe she should have stayed in the bed but wanting to be nearer to him had won that battle.
The temptation to lay down beside him was there and strong but she stayed where she was, clutching the shirt in her hands and letting her head drop enough for her hair to make a sort of curtain over her face. Get it together, Earp. She took a slow, deep breath that shuddered a little as she tried to compose herself. It was proving difficult but she could feel it starting to ease after a moment and maybe, just maybe she could will it away enough that this would be nothing by morning.
“You need not apologize for crying, Wynonna.” He slowly sat up, adjusting the t-shirt he was wearing before settling again and leaning against the bed. He rubbed at his eyes, stifling a yawn before glancing over at her. “You could have woken me if you so chose. I would not have told you to go away.” Which was true enough. There were a lot of people Doc Holliday would not have advised to wake him while he was slumbering, but Wynonna was an exception to the rules. Most of their group was.
“Is there something you wish to get off your chest?” Because he knew they had not gotten to the conversation she’d mentioned and if it was keeping her from being able to sleep, he would ignore all the warning signs and listen. He had promised to do so after all.
She knew he wouldn’t have pushed her away if she’d woken him or even just laid down beside him and curled up. It didn’t need to be said, but in a way it comforted her to hear it all the same. Her hand lifted to wipe at the tears once again before she sniffled and finally looked up and over to him. “I know. Thank you. I just couldn’t sleep… which is pretty obvious.”
Wynonna swallowed a small lump in her throat and felt her chest tighten again at the question. It was just as bad as being asked by someone if you were okay when you clearly weren’t, but in the sense that it just made the emotions of whatever was happen come rushing back. So her face crumpled again though she tried not to let the tears come, her voice going quiet and more high pitched as she tried to get words out. “I miss Waverly.” That was clear enough. “And I feel so god damn helpless.” Which she was and she knew it, though she struggled with that horribly. “Tip of the iceberg though, I guess.”
He listened as she spoke, frowning slightly. He could not replace Waverly, but he would hope that the pain of it would be easier with time or he could at least find a way to make it hurt less. “I can imagine her here. She would definitely try to get to the bottom of it.” He looked over. “We are all helpless in this setting, but we might find something to do that helps make the time pass and give us something else to focus on.” He remembered missing Wynonna and then how she arrived and then disappeared again. He had spent more than enough time in silence, but he knew that Wynonna would prefer to be home. Now she was back.
“We can swap stories about Waverly if it would help. Or we can just sit quietly together. Whatever you would like.” Because he knew he could talk about certain things and not others.
The suggestion that they swap stories about Waverly made her tense up a little. She knew his intention was to comfort, but the idea of swapping stories made it sound like her sister was dead and even if she was in another world entirely right now, she knew in her heart that Waverly was still alive. Somewhere. A lump had formed in her throat and she swallowed it down quietly.
“When I was here… before… I’m guessing I didn’t tell you much of anything other than you followed her into the Garden and that you’re fangalicious now, right?” Leave it to Wynonna to try and at least crack something of a joke while stewing in a lot of emotions she couldn’t compartmentalize fast enough. “Like why there was a Garden in the first place or how she ended up there, I mean.”
“We did not get into very serious detail, no.” He looked over at her. “I am sure there are more questions than answers now that it’s happened.” And he was not sure there were answers in the very near future. Especially not here. It would not suit for either of them in the long run, but there was nothing to be done about it.
“I assume there was a garden far before any of us were even a thought. But I have not considered what it might be. The scripture writes a very pretty story, but I am not sure that it is what it was told to be should it have dragged someone so good as Waverly inside. I cannot fathom why it allowed me through all the same.” He was not a pure man and his belief in a higher power existed, but not enough to keep him from doing as he pleased.
“I assume you have some information on it?”
He was right enough about it likely not being what it was told in scripture, though Wynonna didn’t know what to expect once she managed to get there. If she did. She was quiet for a moment before giving a small nod, looking down at the shirt of his that was still in her hands before lifting her head to look over at him again. Her mouth opened and then closed as if she was trying to process exactly how she wanted to tell him this information, but finally she figured just letting it all kind of spill out might be the best way forward.
“Waverly’s dad is… was not…” She sighed, already finding it difficult to explain. “My dad isn’t her dad. Which is the easy explanation. So the Garden’s got two angels as its guardians, Juan Carlo and Julian, right? Well, Julian is… Waverly’s… dad.” Wynonna had already had time to process all of this, but she felt like explaining it to a Doc who hadn’t already gone through it, while still buzzing a little from the whiskey, needed something more gentler. “That’s why the Garden pulled her in. Julian and Juan Carlo both died, though I don’t think either of them had actually been in the Garden for years trying to keep Bulshar from getting back in.”
There was a brief pause and her eyebrows furrowed a little. “I still don’t know how you were allowed through because only mortals are supposed to be, but you… went after her without a second thought.”
“Juan Carlo…” Doc said quietly. He surely was no mechanic. “I met him directly before being captured. I knew there was something different about him and I am not overly surprised to hear that Waverly was not your father’s child.” He did not know Ward Earp, but he certainly had heard no praise for the man in all his time in Purgatory. “I am sorry to hear that they are both dead. I am sure that complicated things quite a bit.”
He let out a long breath, shrugging slightly. “Family is all we have left and I could not live with myself if I were to let any harm come to Waverly or you.” Even, in a way, Deputy Dolls. But Dolls could fend for himself. He had seen it. Whatever he was, he was capable of looking after himself. “If you could not go after her, then I would have to. Especially given the opportunity.”
“There is… kind of a complicated history with Juan Carlo, I think. More than I think I can really deep dive into right now. I wouldn’t even know how to explain it, anyway.” No, it ultimately didn’t surprise Wynonna that Waverly’s father was someone other than Ward. She’d turned out so different from herself - and Willa, really - to be a flesh and blood Earp. But she was still an Earp, dammit. “Mm, in a sense. It kind of is what it is, I’m just sorry Waverly didn’t get more time with him after everything.”
His words brought another wave of emotion and she felt the tears brimming, because she knew and had known for a long time that he’d never let anything happen to either of them if he could help it. But it was nice to hear, even if it was another one of those things that never actually needed to be said. “Well, and everyone else - Nicole, Jeremy - was back at the Homestead, so..” For their own good, though. She brushed away a tear with the sleeve of her shirt. “So yeah. Garden of Eden got reopened, Wav’s is an angel, so on and so forth.” She sighed then and fell quiet for a moment, looking over at him. “I’m about to put my heart on my sleeve for once, so brace yourself, but I’m really grateful for you.”
Doc understood complicated. He was certain he had quite a lot of information to go before he fully understood what the deal was. That did not stop him from wondering what part this Juan Carlo played, but if Wynonna was not up for that discussion, he would not press it. Maybe he could figure out how to work the strange square machines he was told were computers. There was the Google contraption that eluded his understanding and apparently held answers and information. He was certain Sydney would assist him should he ask. She would likely make fun of him for it, but perhaps it would be easier to ask her instead of Wynonna. Less emotionally charged.
Doc gave her a small, tight smile. “I will do my best to be worthy of that.” At this moment, he wasn’t sure he was, but Wynonna and Waverly had put their faith in him and he was a flawed man, but he did try. When he wasn’t out to spite himself and make a bad situation worse.
Even though her mind was still swimming from the whiskey, she could feel herself becoming more present in this moment. Or maybe she was just slowly starting to sober up. Emotional moments do that to people, right? There was a part of her that wanted to tell him he was worthy of it. She knew he was, she’d witnessed it. Despite everything he’d done in her timeline, in his heart he was worthy and a good man and fuck, Waverly was right about him all along, wasn’t she? Of course she was.
He might’ve done at least a couple of things (she wasn’t exactly keeping count) that would be hard to come back from for most people but Wynonna would never forget what he’d done in the moments before he went up those stairs and into the Garden.
She sniffled softly and returned the smile, small and a little sad, but there all the same. After a moment of quiet between the two of them, she lifted a hand and very gently brushed a bit of his hair away from his eyes and then let that finger brush at his cheek before lowering her hand again, though it fell between them and not back to her lap. “Now that I’ve broken the proverbial seal with the whole Waverly’s-an-angel thing, do you want to know more? I could probably just word-vomit it all at you right now or I can shut up. Pick your poison.”
“Well. I do not believe it is healthy to keep things bottled up. And it is better that they are said when all parties are in a receptive mood and not in the middle of an argument.” Because he had been in more than enough situations in which shouting matches had come with a reveal of information. He had said more than his fair share of hurtful things because he was angry, too. He did not want Wynonna opening up about things back home to be due to the fact that she’d been forced to stay quiet on his account and felt some kind of way about it. Even if he may live to regret his decision.
“When last we spoke on this, you did mention the need for whiskey. Should I assume that is still the case or should I wait for the information to come out first.” He did have some stashed around the apartment now that he was staying, but there was an open bottle in the kitchen that he could get if he should need to.
The fact that Doc, of all people, was the one telling her that it wasn’t healthy to keep things bottled up amused her to an extent and she gave a soft laugh before quieting down. He was right, though. Even if she couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt over it. “I’m just trying to give you an out, is all, though it means a lot that you’re being receptive to it.” It did mean a lot. She wasn’t sure how any of the rest of the information was going to affect him, but so far he was handling it like a champ.
“Might not hurt to bring the bottle in here just in case, but the more I think about it, the more I’m not sure how badly you’ll need it. The whiskey may have been for me and I’m way ahead of you,” she said with a scrunch of her nose and a snort of amusement. But then she quieted down and breathed out a gentle sigh, eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked over at him again. “I don’t even know which to tell you first, so.” She paused briefly. “Dolls, uh, he died a little while back now,” she said, her voice more hushed. “Played the big dumb hero part to keep Bulshar’s bad knock off Rambo-looking lackeys away.”
He nodded. “I am aware.” Had he been in a different mood, he might not have been, but if Wynonna was going to be vulnerable with him, the least he could do was return the favor. With the understanding, of course, that he could drink heavily at any point during the conversation. He could not imagine there being something he was surprised by at any rate. Waverly an angel was almost too on the nose. Jaun Carlo as an angel was perhaps both surprising and unsurprising. He was a shitty mechanic and a bit of an annoying dick about things.
What he had expected to hear and what he heard were two separate things. He may have had some kind of feeling regarding Dolls and Wynonna’s feelings about him, but he had not wished death on him. He was a good man. All things considered. He had done his best. Even if his best was being a real asshole sometimes. “I believe you were correct about the whiskey,” he said after a moment before getting up to go to the kitchen and bring the whiskey back, taking a swig before taking a seat and placing the bottle on the floor between them. “That is one hell of a start.”
Wynonna didn’t think going into any further detail about Dolls’ death unprompted was necessary, so she fell kind of quiet as she watched him process the information. She knew this was going to be weird for him, at the very least. It’s one thing to experience it, but to not have reached that point in your own life yet and only hear about it? She just wasn’t sure how any of this would sit with him, so she was trying to brace herself for anything.
She watched as he pushed himself up to retrieve the bottle and was back within moments, her fingers idly picking at the fabric of the shirt she was still holding. “I know, I’m sorry.” They’d managed to give him a small, but beautiful burial near the Homestead and said their goodbyes properly. But that still didn’t make it easier to process, though she had managed to work through her grief over time. Bigger things and all.
Wynonna reached for the bottle and took a small swig of it herself before offering it over to him again. “I know there’s a lot that’s happened between, uh, your timeline and mine, but the bigger things are just… they’re a little heavy, I guess.” Plus she just couldn’t think of an easier way to tell him about Dolls right then. It had never been her strong suit to approach things gently. Ripping the band-aid off, so to speak, always seemed the best way.
He sighed, leaning back against the bed and looking over at Wynonna as he did. “How heavy are we talkin’?” Not because he wouldn’t listen to them but because he was trying to prepare himself for whatever might be on its way. A death was one way to start because he wasn’t sure what could really be worse than one of them dying except the unknown of what was coming in the Garden. He hoped it was not something he needed to worry about, but he was unconvinced of the goodness of it.
“But also, you started with death, so I’m not sure how much heavier it can get from there.”
“I. Yeah. That’s fair. I did kind of start off strong there, huh?” Of course, Dolls dying was heavy no matter how either of them looked at it. He’d been a core part of their team. Losing him had been devastating to say the least. But it was the one she’d decided to lead with because the next one was the heaviest for her on a personal level. Maybe she was just projecting that? Either way, there was something about it that scared her. “I don’t know how heavy we’re talking. I know it was a lot for both of us, but…”
Wynonna looked at him again and was quiet for a few seconds before looking back down at her lap. She finally set the shirt aside and picked at her nails instead. It was obvious she was anxious about telling him, but she closed her eyes and took a slow breath before turning her head back toward him. “We have... um. I ended up pregnant. A little girl.”
Doc stared for a long moment as his brain tried to catch up with what Wynonna had just said. She was pregnant and had a little girl. But she had said we have. He was not sure which we she meant. Her and Dolls? Her and someone else. “Just to clarify. When you say we have...” He found he couldn’t finish the sentence, so he took a drink. “Which we do you mean?” His mind had not quite wrapped itself around the possibility that he was a parent.
Oh, shit. She broke Doc Holliday with that information, didn’t she? Though it didn’t take her by surprise that he was confused about what she meant when she said ‘we’ - her words had kind of stumbled all over themselves when she finally spit it out. But she gave him a small smile, though there was something behind her eyes that gave away how hard this was for her. She knew it would be hard for him too, at least to an extent.
“You,” she said quietly, nudging his arm gently with her elbow. “And me.” There was a lot that Wynonna wanted to do in that moment, curl against him, hold his hand; the list was long.
He had not expected this. For a moment, all he could do was sit quietly and stare at his lap. He had a child, a daughter. There were so many questions and he was not sure how to go about asking them. How was up there, but he was sure he could imagine the how. He had been with Wynonna before. When she decided they were back to such activities, he did not know. “What is her name?” It was the first question that finally made its way into words. “When did...this happen?”
He could not bring himself to ask if he was any good at being a father considering he seemed to have made things worse for himself by becoming a vampire. It was hard to know what to ask and what to leave alone.
“Is…” He paused, voice gravelly because he was attempting to suppress the emotion of it. “Is she healthy? Is she okay?” He hoped she was because he was honestly not certain that he could handle any other news.
Well, she had to admit to herself that he was handling this information better this time than he did the first time he found out. At least he was staying put. Wynonna hadn’t been certain that she could handle him walking away from her a second time after the news. But when he started asking questions, she could feel relief come over her and the tension that had built in her neck relax a little.
“Her name is Alice Michelle, after our mothers.” She figured that much was obvious, but it was maybe worth clarifying right now because it was a lot of information she was giving him. “Um. You said the last thing you remember from Purgatory was us having to sign contracts with Black Badge, right? I was definitely pregnant then but I didn’t know it yet.” In fact, she knew that it happened the night Doc had told her to let off some steam after what happened to her with good ‘ole Jack.
But it was the shift in his tone that caught her ear and she finally reached over to gently take his hand, threading her fingers with his and squeezing it in an attempt to show him comfort as he tried to process everything. “Yes, she is. I promise. Healthy and beautiful.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper when she spoke. There was a pause of her own and she frowned. “She wasn’t safe in the Ghost River Triangle, but she’s with Aunt Gus.”
“Alice Michelle,” he said quietly. His throat felt tight with emotion. Everything about it. Could still hear the sounds of his mother’s passing if he let himself linger too much, remembering the way she sounded as she cried. She had been one of the most important women in his life before she died. Even afterwards, the memory was enough to keep him mostly in line. She had already been pregnant and he did not know. There was the sting of it lingering in his chest. They had been fighting and not knowing. Anything could have happened. Doc’s brows knitted and he nearly reached for the whiskey again, but he felt Wynonna’s hand taking his.
He looked up at her then, the emotions easily seen in his eyes at that point. Everything he was feeling was etched into his features. It felt strange to feel a sense of loss for something he had neither had nor known about until that very moment, but he could not explain away the feelings that flared up. Neither could he stop feeling them. But her reply about Gus answered a question he had not gotten to ask. He could not even act as a father to his own daughter. Somehow that hit harder than anything else. “I see.” The only words he could manage when he felt so off kilter as he did at that moment.
“We are not even to be parents.” Another thing to add to his list of things that were unfair about their lives.
There was something about the look on his face and in his eyes when he looked at her that made her chest tighten, something like grief pulling at her. Heartbreak, even. Maybe that was the one thing from her own timeline that she should have kept to herself. But what if he’d gone and managed to find out on his own and she hadn’t told him? She couldn’t even consider how he would have reacted then.
Wynonna squeezed his hand again and leaned into him, pressing her forehead tenderly against his and closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Doc,” she breathed, her voice thick with emotion when she spoke. Nothing about the situation had been fair then and it definitely wasn’t fair now. She hadn’t known how much she wouldn’t want to let Alice go until it was too late, and neither of them had taken to it well by any stretch of the imagination at the time. The grief. The depression. She hated to think back on it.
“We may get to, I don’t know.” She didn’t think it was out of the question for the rest of their lives. And she would be lying if she said there hadn’t been a couple of times she’d woken up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat after having a dream about the two of them and their baby girl. “The curse is broken, so she wouldn’t be Heir to anything but maybe your hat and guns and the homestead.” That thought brought a tiny, sad smile to her lips. “Unfortunately, I get the vibe that there will always be some sort of awful bullshit lingering over Purgatory that’ll make it difficult.”
Doc was never particularly amazing at putting his emotions into words. He was a man of complicated feelings that he did not enjoy expressing for the most part. His eyes slid closed as he felt her forehead pressed to his. It was a comfort, the closeness. He wished he did not need to know this, but he would have lingered in his anger had she not told him and he could lie and say he would not, but he was not in a place to convince himself of a series of lies.
“Heir to my guns. I am not giving up my hat.” An attempt at humor. His voice was tight, but the point was that he tried. “She can have her own.” He took in a small breath. He didn’t want to think of the lingering impossibility. “Should we find a way home, perhaps it is something to consider.” He hoped that it wasn’t set in stone and forever. He had not considered the likelihood of children before, but now that he had, he could not stop thinking about it. “Take turns running into danger or hope Waverly is open to babysitting.”
A quiet had settled between them for a moment in their closeness and she felt her heart aching for this man, beating so hard it nearly made it hard to breathe. She couldn’t shake the sense of guilt in making him feel this way, but it was something he needed to know. And he had to hear it from her, no exceptions.
The attempt at a joke made a short and quiet ‘hah’ of a laugh escape her, but she smiled. At least something of a smile, anyway. “Of course, my bad. Not the hat.” But the idea of giving Alice her own hat someday made her own throat tighten with another wave of emotion. They were discussing things that Wynonna wasn’t sure could or would ever happen, no matter how badly she wished for them sometimes, deep down. Was there ever going to be a chance at a normal life for any of them?
“At least we know she’d be safe with an angel, right?” she asked through the tears in her voice, breathing out a quiet, shaky kind of sigh. The thought that they might make it home only to not remember any of this crossed her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to question it outloud. Not right now. She swallowed the new lump that formed in her throat and tilted her chin enough to press a slow, gentle kiss near the corner of his mouth, the scruff on his face too familiar and something she’d missed.
“And her lady cop.” He could trust Alice with them. Even if he was never going to get the chance for it. At least it was not a given. No matter how much he wanted it to be. He turned his head slightly, kissing her back. It was perhaps one of the saddest kisses he could ever remember sharing with someone. But it was enough.
When he pulled back, he didn’t go far. “I reckon there’s no promise of anything, but I hope we will find a way.” He was quiet for a moment. “Shall we stay here on the floor or would you prefer the overfluffed bed.”
Her Haught cop. Oh, she missed Nicole too. Fuck. There were too many thoughts and emotions going on in her head, the temptation to take a drink or five from his whiskey bottle strong, but she resisted. It was when he turned his head and their lips met, so gently, that it all started to overwhelm her. She hadn’t kissed him in what felt like an incredibly long time and there was so much behind this one that it made her chest physically ache. Pull it together, woman. Her hand came up then and she caressed his cheek sweetly, breaking the kiss after a moment and staying where she was when he pulled back.
“I hope we do, too.” And I hope we remember this if we do. But what if we don’t? What if we actually are stuck here? Or what if I accidentally leave again and don’t bring you with me? Or what if you leave me? Too many questions with no answers. She swallowed another lump and scrunched her nose a little. “I know you hate the bed,” she said quietly, “but would you mind? If you can’t sleep, you can move back down to the floor if you want.”
He nodded, pulling himself off the ground. He grabbed for the whiskey, taking a long pull to help him combat his emotions. “Then we best get to sleep because I have met my limit for bad news tonight.” If there was more, he could manage this better in the morning. Perhaps. “If there is more, we can finish it over breakfast.” He climbed onto the bed, pushing the covers down so he could slip under them. “Come on then, darling.”
Though the swimmy feeling in her head had faded over the course of their conversation, pushing herself up from the floor was a small struggle. Wynonna gave him an apologetic look, but followed suit as she climbed onto the bed after him and under the covers. At this point she wasn’t even sure how much sleep either of them would get, but it was better to try than not. “I’m sorry, it was a lot, I know,” she said once she was settled. But she didn’t say much else, instead scooching herself closer and curling up against him to try and get comfortable. Mostly though, she just wanted to be as near to him as she could be.