packs aren't always of the same species (a WayHaught au)

secrets don't make friends

A week wasn't that long, not in the grand scheme of things, but this week in particular felt like it was dragging on and on and you weren't getting any closer to Bobo, despite what information Dolls had and the use of your combined, otherworldly gifts . Apparently, it took more than an ex-cop-turned-werewolf and a super soldier-turned-fire breathing lab reject from a secret underground facility to dismember two wannabe cults and, as if that wasn't enough, get back at Svane for what he did to Waverly. In hindsight, that might have been a bit too much to pile on for how little your plate seemed to be at the moment, but it was frustrating. The two of you spent the entire week doing what ended up only being more recon. You tracked Bobo and his men on foot and paw for several days, trying to catch them in a mistake. You even risked going out during the New Moon, as vulnerable as that made you, but everything was quiet. The two of you did successfully manage to capture one of The Revenants and got him set up in Dolls' cabin. Dolls wouldn't tell you what he planned to do to him, but it wasn't that difficult to put two-and-two together, not that you really wanted to know how Dolls was going to get information out of him...the less you knew the better. And then, with The Order still out there, you felt like you had to constantly watch your back for cloaked boy-men trying to " save " you from your sin, as if you had a choice. As if you did this to yourself.

Needless to say that by the time the Earps returned the following Monday, you were both exhausted, over it, and just a teensy bit pissed off at not being any closer than you had been. And it was getting harder and harder to keep your mouth shut about the whole thing. Dolls didn't seem to be having quite as hard a time as you, but you also figured he had been forced to keep secrets far more problematic and dangerous than what was essentially a petty revenge scheme.

You weren't used to keeping secrets (other than the obvious one), especially from Wynonna, not since she found out what you were, but this one felt like something you needed to take care of without getting anyone else involved, without putting anyone else in anymore danger. You pretended like nothing was out of the ordinary, making sure to give Waverly the box of your mother's keepsakes, sans your father's dog tags which now resided around your neck, underneath the collar of your undershirt. You only lasted a couple of days after their return though before you started feeling like you would upchuck word vomit every time you opened your mouth. By Wednesday, you wanted to spill everything, but you held your tongue; even when Wynonna or Waverly asked questions they shouldn't. You tried to communicate everything you couldn't say with words through pleading glances and silent apologies. You were short with them, you kept them at arm's length, you kept your relationship with them strictly professional and told yourself it wasn't breaking your heart- or theirs. You needed them to be safe. But keeping secrets from your best friend and someone you were starting to grow relatively fond of wasn't something you were well versed in. Every time you told a little white lie about how your "patrol" was or every time Wynonna caught you watching Waverly with guilt in your eyes, the disappointment and shame tore a little more at the edges of the already gaping hole in your chest, just barely held together by Ana's constant reassurances that after everything was handled, there wouldn't be a need to hide any longer. And then Shae's words would pop back into your head, telling you to let Waverly know how you felt about her and the guilt would grow nearly unbearable.

When it became too much for you and you were sure you would burst, your brilliant solution was to avoid both Earps at all cost. You shut your personal phone off and shoved it back into the far corner of the nightstand where you dredged it up from before your trip to Chicago, effectively cutting all communication with Waverly that wasn't face-to-face. You locked yourself in your room because you were "too tired" or in the basement when you got back from patrols so you could "work" and pretended you didn't notice the hurt in Waverly's stare whenever you caught her eye. By the weekend, that hurt turned to anger and you couldn't really blame her. Even Ana was giving off vibes that felt like she hated you for it. You nearly hated yourself for even thinking you could get away with it without any, or minimal consequence.