Safe Place ~ WayHaught

You're Not Dead, I'd Bet My Money

"Hot as hell,
Sweeter than honey.
You're not dead,
I'd bet my money.
Love is new,
Don't break down.
Meet with me,
At the edge of town.
Hot as ice,
Cool like fire.
Next time you leave,
Forget your desires."

(The next few parts are all based on this poem I wrote a while back. I didn't want to do like part 1, part 2, part 3. . .etc. but that's basically what it is.)

~Nicole POV~

Today's the day. Sheriff Nedley came by with the doctor yesterday and got our blood. I'm not squeamish around blood or anything, but I passed out. I guess they took too much or something. After I regained consciousness they gave me some cookies and orange juice. Loved the cookies, hated the juice.

When I was a kid, orange juice was my favorite thing to drink. Well, that's a lie, it was a tie between that and apple juice. I would drink it all the time and it always made me so happy. But one day, I think I was in 7th grade, there was a boy who found out I'm gay. I don't know how, I never told anyone, but he knew.

He had been my best friend since I started school there. He would help me with my homework and sit with me at lunch. He helped me with my nightmares. He defended me when the other kids made fun of me, but something changed in him. He pulled me into an empty classroom at lunch one day and grabbed both our bottles of orange juice from our trays. He held me against the wall and forced me to drink it all. I couldn't breathe, I almost drowned trying to drink that fucking orange juice.

After he backed off, I threw it all up. It got all over my uniform and in my shoes and hair. He poured another bottle over my food and shoved a note in my hands before storming out of the classroom, leaving me alone and scared. Faggot. That's all the note said. Just one word. Enough to make me never want any orange juice ever again.

"Hey, baby?" I'm shaken from my thoughts when Waverly puts her hand on my knee. "Where'd you go just then?"

"7th grade." I answer truthfully. "The day everything started. If that boy had never found out, I would still be living with my parents. I wouldn't have moved here, or met you." I chuckle at my next thought. "I wouldn't get PTSD flashbacks whenever I drink orange juice."

"Orange juice?" Waverly smiles at me, confused.

"It's a long story." I sigh. "Chrissy is waiting for us. We should go."

And we do. And it breaks my heart.

~Waverly POV~

On our way out of Purgatory, we pass Nicole's car. I gasp at the sight of it and try not to imagine how Wynonna must be feeling. It's a gruesome scene to say the least. The windshield is cracked from what looks like a gunshot. Inside, the entire car is splattered with me and Nicole's blood. The blood was drawn over the course of three days, so the amount covering the car looks unsurvivable.

Both doors are wide open and the tires have been slashed. My favorite shotgun is lying on the ground about ten feet from the "accident." My jacket covered with my blood and hanging from the side view mirror.

For a moment, I forget that I'm not actually dead. But then again, Waverly Earp is.

And so are Nicole Haught and Chrissy Nedley.

~Wynonna POV~

"No!" I don't even know what I'm screaming when I see the wreck. "Waverly! Waverly! I'm sorry! Waverly!"

Everything was fine. My baby sister was on her way home to me, we were going to talk things out. I got scared when she didn't show up and went looking for her. I can't believe this. I know. I know what this looks like, but she can't be dead. No. Not while we're still fighting. She can't be gone.

"Wynonna," Sheriff Nedley is here now. "What happened?" His voice is panicked.

"She was coming home. She was coming home to me." I'm trying not to scream, but I can't control myself. "Waverly! Babygirl, I'm here! Come back!"

I almost run to follow the trail of blood when I notice the sheriff is on his knees. He's sobbing uncontrollably and clutching a piece of fabric.

"Chrissy. Nicole." He sobs. "They were together. How did this happen?"

"What are you talking about?" I look at the fabric and notice what it is.

Pink and shiny. It must have ripped off Nicole's jacket.

Waverly. Nicole. Chrissy.

All of them?

"Nicole was like a daughter to me. And Chrissy," He just lost both his daughters.

"They aren't dead." I state firmly. I'm calmer now, but maybe not rational. "They can't be. I've seen Nicole fight, and Chrissy. And Waverly is too smart to be dead. No. They aren't gone. I'd bet my whiskey they aren't dead."

And I will find them.