#Fanfic: Wynonna Earp

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

That Which Remains *Hollirey Week Day 4*

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot is by prompt and the rest borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: N/A (endgame: Hollirey)

Rating: G

There’s a drawer in a desk in his trailer that Bobo Del Rey keeps as a reminder. 

Author’s Note: Chose the prompt “pieces”. Please note that this is very Bobo Del Rey-centric but will be continued in two other days’ prompts on days five and six to be a cohesive multi-part with the intent of it ending up Hollirey. 

*~*~*~*

That Which Remains

There is a drawer in his trailer that he keeps locked, the key hidden from everyone not that many have the honor of being in the space that he’s carved for himself but one cannot be too careful in such manners. But it’s a drawer he opens only when he starts to wonder exactly what he was ever thinking, when he starts to forget. And the contents are a stark and very awful reminder of where he’s come from and why. In the drawer there is a box; simple unornate and seemingly innocuous in its plainness. Pulling the top off, however, reveals what it holds. Reaching in carefully, he takes out both items and sets them on the desk, blue eyes lingering on them for a moment before a slow exhalation escapes. Slowly, he reaches, the tips of a finger brushing over a familiar pair of gold spectacles before his moving to the now folded letter that is worn and bears the creases of being crumpled. The last remains of Robert Svane. There is a moment where he closes his eyes and swallows before reaching and unfolding the letter even though he doesn’t need to as he knows the words by heart after all these years. But he does it anyway. And it hurts just as much as all those years ago. He can still remember how it felt; that crushing blow as he realized that he was going to die alone while the one person he trusted to be there when he needed him was too concerned with other matters to make time. For a dying man. A hard swallow later, he refolds the letter and returns it and the spectacles back to the box and retires them to their drawer letting himself sit in the dark. The past had shaped him into who he was now; betrayal had taught him to never let someone else close enough to wound him like that. It wasn’t worth it, not when they always left in the end. 

Everyone always left him. 

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Learning Curve

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The pairing and plot are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

Self-indulgent drabble regarding a personal HC that the one sure way of making Bobo Del Rey uncomfortable is anything soft and tender because that's when feelings are at risk. Given a choice, he prefers less gentle encounters because then it doesn't have to mean anything. So when faced with something that goes against that, he does the only thing he knows how to do; run.

Thankfully for them both, Doc is far more stubborn than Bobo could ever be scared.

*~*~*~*~*

Learning Curve

“Is something up?” The question has Doc slowly shifting his gaze at Waverly who is watching him from the other side of the bar worriedly.

“Why ever would you think that?”

“Because you’ve spent the last couple of days looking at your phone with growing degrees of exasperation and annoyance.”

He was being obvious, he realizes and that wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted. “It’s...complicated,” he responds as he slides the phone into his pocket trying for a smile and sure it doesn’t reach his eyes at the moment, “but it’s...fine.” Except he has the sinking suspicion that it is anything of the sort which was most of the problem.

“Are you sure?”

He brings the cup to his lips unsure how to answer that without it being a clear lie. If he had to make a true guess; nothing was going to be alright until he went and forced the other to talk to him like a normal person. And the ground was shaky enough between them that he didn’t really want to muddy the water further by getting anyone else involved. So he takes a sip before murmuring, “I’m sure, Waverly, but thanks for the concern.”

It’s another couple of days before he’s absolutely had all he can take of the nonsense and he drives himself out there. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to say or what excuse that might possibly work here but if he didn’t do something he was liable to shoot someone.

Or actually see what it would take to raise a man and then kill him again.

So without more than how he feels coiling him tighter than a spring, he bangs on the familiar trailer door and waits. Then he bangs again. Waits. Repeats. It’s the seventh time before the door opens with a snapped, “Th’ hell do you want?!”

“Hello to you, too, Robert,” he greets, “Mind if I step in?”

“Absolutely not,” comes the immediate response as the other’s demeanor goes guarded and wary, “I thought I made it quite clear to you that…”

And it was as far as Doc was willing to let the other go as he took a few steps in and crowds the man back into the trailer. “What part of ‘no’ was not clear in that?” Bobo demands teeth bared at him.

“All of it,” he replies amiably.

“How...You know what, I’m not asking anything else. Get out. And stay away from me, Holliday.”

“Now, Robert, I know you don’t mean that.”

“No? You want me to throw you out and see if I don’t mean it?” comes the low warning in a growled tone that should have him worried but honestly, he’d spent the week concerned about other things.

“Robert, what is this really about because I know something happened. You have never pulled away this hard before.”

“There is nothing between us for you to concern yourself about. Go back to Shorty’s and leave me alone, Holliday. I mean it.”

But he didn’t, that much was clear. In fact, the more Doc looks the more afraid the other seems. Of him. It hits like a freight train as he finally realizes what he should have known from the start in terms of this man alone: there were things Bobo Del Rey was used to, a lot of them. However, there were things he wasn’t and Doc had probably hit them all the last time they were together.

Robert was absolutely not sure how to handle what had transpired the last time they were together and he was running scared. Doc should not have waited this long to come and find him but he’d been hoping the other would calm down and talk. Clearly there were things so broken that he had to be more conscientious of them if he wanted to make this work between them. And he did very much want this to work.

“Robert,” he says softer this time, more gently, “I told you that I was in this to the end and I meant it. You can trust me not to hurt you on purpose. You mean way too much to me for me to just let this go. Confide in me or at least give me an idea here what happened.”

“Holliday…”

The warning was clear: he did not want to have this conversation. At all. But Doc was nothing if not a stubborn bastard so he takes an alternative road and leans the inches between them to press his lips to his softly, sweetly. And it definitely catches the other off-guard drawing a soft sound from low in his throat. Doc breaks it with a quiet, “You are not used to someone being sweet to you, are you? You have no idea how to handle this.”

“Don’t…”

“Robert, you deserve to be treated gently because you deserve all good things. Me being kind to you does not come with any sort of strings. There are no ulterior motives, nothing waiting in the wings to trip you up and trap you or hurt you worse, I promise. Just let me love you, you insufferable demon and stop hiding from me.”

“You don’t.”

Doc blinks at him a moment at the sheer audacity those two words hold. “I don’t?” he asks, “You tellin’ me how I feel now?”

“You can’t possibly…”

“Oh, I can and I do,” Doc interrupts him not wanting to hear the rest of it but knowing what he means, “You seem to forget, Robert, that I am not now nor have I ever been like Wyatt Earp. I do not abandon what should be most precious to me. I am a lot of things but what I am not is in the business of usin’ a man for my own ends.”

“You have every reason to. Wyatt certainly…”

“Wyatt,” Doc sighs softly, “Listen to me carefully about Wyatt goddamn Earp would you? The man neither deserved you nor treated you properly. Hell, I didn’t do you any much of a service either back then. But unlike Wyatt, I do not intend to repeat my past indiscretions where you are concerned, Robert. I do not.”

“Just...please go.”

“No,” he says firmly, “No, Robert.” There is something heartbreaking about the look he’s flashed, the look of just desperation as it becomes clear that losing him might just be the last straw in a lifetime of abandonment and he’d prefer to do it now rather than later. Doc reaches and tugs the other to him. “I’m not leavin’, Robert. I’m not. Not without a hell of a fight. You’re stuck with me, Bobo Del Rey.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Henry. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not, Robert Svane.”

He feels the other shift so he can press his forehead against Doc’s. “I can’t…” comes the quiet admission, “I cannot do this again, Henry. I can’t.”

“And you won’t,” he tells him, “Not alone. I’m not gonna leave you. I’m not. I’m here and good, bad, or ugly here is where I’m stayin’. Trust me a little would you?”

“Do you know what you’re asking? Do you honestly understand what you are asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to let me have what’s left of you, yes. You hold all that I am as well if you hadn’t noticed. I love you, insufferable demon, so stop hidin’ from me because I ain’t nearly the scariest thing here in Purgatory. That’s you if you’ll recall.”

“Henry…”

It earns a soft sigh before he reaches and lightly brushes his fingers along the side of the other’s face. “I know you’re used to people leavin’ when you need ‘em most, Robert. But I’m not goin’ anywhere without a hell of a fight and so much fuss the devil himself would get out of the way. I promise. You have to trust me better.”

“Trust isn’t something I’m good at. I did that with Wyatt, remember? And you know what that earned me.”

“I know,” comes the soft, sad response, “I know, Robert. But I’m very, very much not him.” And he'd do whatever it took to convince the other of that and of the fact that at the end of all things with him is where Doc wanted to be. Robert had become his home and his reason. He leans and gently kisses the corner of his mouth. “One of these days I am hopin' that you'll start to believe me.”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Splitting Open

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

When Bobo Del Rey has a migraine and tries to ignore it, he ends up having to be taken care of. 

Author’s note: As someone who suffers chronic migraine, I wanted to write a drabble with Bobo Del Rey experiencing them and having to have his partner and found!family taking care of him. So you get this. 

*~*~*~*

Splitting Open

It crept upon him in increments so he hadn't fully caught the warning signs too used to the thrum of the curse and the constant heat under his skin. It made him sort of push passed anything else that didn't hit him like a freight train.

Until the throbbing, stabbing pain centered behind his eyes has him doubling over and nearly vomiting mid-step. Ones like these that came slowly and then struck at once tended to put him out for hours if not a full day. And this was particularly problematic as he was on his way to meet up with a certain heir. He braces himself against the door of the truck and considers just canceling and telling her that he had better things to do and she'd just have to wait but...

Waverly would be there and honestly, he didn't want to disappoint her. His stomach revolts violently and he ends up gagging but at least the pressure has lessened somewhat. It grants him at least clear enough vision to drive himself to Shorty's. In hindsight, he probably should have just asked one of the Revenants to do this but there was no way he was having them see him in this sort of state.

It still takes him longer than he likes and he misses a couple of turns, twice. Hopefully, Wynonna didn't expect him to be punctual.

Getting out of the truck leaves him dizzy and realizing that this was probably the worst idea he'd had and that in retrospect he was probably not thinking too clearly as his head was throbbing and it was very hard to focus on any one thing for too long. He closes his eyes a moment to try and reorient himself which once again takes longer than he'd like. He feels hot and cold and dizzy. Clammy and not at all like he should be doing this. But something, something wouldn't go well if he didn't. The reason was now fuzzy but he doesn't like it so he forces himself a step at a time forward. The light hurts, sounds hurt, everything just hurt.

Entering is no better; the sharp smells and sounds only make him want to vomit again and he struggles to stay upright. “It's about time you sho...Bobo?”

He struggles to look anything close to cocky and imposing and is sure there's no point as the look he's getting is quite concerned. And when it's from Wynonna, well he's clearly not hiding anything. “Migraine,” he manages to get out, “S-sort of snuck up on me...” His gesture is shaky, sloppy even as he tries to sound like it wasn't as much as it was.

“Migraine,” Wynonna says slowly gazing at him.

“Mmhmm, you know; headache on steroids? Everything hurts, smells are vomit-inducing, lights are awful, noise is worse. Those things? Got one trying to stab me through my eye. S' fantastic.”

“Then why the hell are you here instead of laying down somewhere?”

He wants to point out what should be obvious; they had a truce and he was getting tired of being accused of not pulling his weight in it but his stomach decides at that moment to want to revolt and he barely manages to get to a trashcan before he's retching miserably the throbbing worsening. “Goddammit, Bobo Del Rey,” Wynonna huffs as she approaches, “There are some things you don't try to force yourself through. This is one of them.”

“'S not...like I'd get much in the way of quiet at the compound a-anyway so if I'm going to be miserable might as well do as you asked.”

“Except, I'd like you to be coherent enough to give me an update. You are clearly feeling like someone ran you over a few times and I really do not want to deal with you having to get a trashcan every few minutes.”

He wants to argue but at this point; was he really going to win? Everything was just making things so much worse. Footsteps approach and he grimaces. “Is he okay?” Robin asks softly.

“Migraine apparently,” Wynonna answers, “Should probably put him in Doc's room until he gets back and can deal with him.”

“Ahhh, yeah, if you do that let me get something that might help. I'll be right back,” comes his immediate quiet answer before the steps recede lighter this time. Bobo had to hand it to that one in particular; he didn't absolutely hate him.

The jury was still out on the others most of the time.

He can barely finish that to completion before he winces at just everything. And then there are the soft footsteps before something is slipped over his head and the noise goes silent. Oh. Headphones. Robin had...

Yes, he definitely would let this one live. Of course he's lightly tugged and he goes with deciding that he's had more than enough of all of this. Of everything. The silence helps the throbbing and he is far more pliant to being pushed into the familiar sheets on Doc's bed before he just curls up. He's pretty sure the headphones keep him from hearing anything that might remotely be insulting about his pitiable state whether it's imagined or real and he is fine with that.

Sleep comes in fits and starts until there is a gentle shifting and he blinks blearily up at Waverly. His angel smiles softly before lightly pressing and he moves so he's laying on his back wondering what she was... The feel of a cold pack against his forehead startles him somewhat but helps immeasurably. His eyes slowly flutter closed and he's sure she mouth's something but can't quite make it out as he settles once more.

The next time he awakens the pain has lessened and the still cold item against his skin tells him it's been changed recently. Slowly shifting it and removing the headphones, he finds the room dark but can make out the figure sitting in the chair nearby. “Henry,” he manages.

“Robert,” comes the soft response, “You should take better care.”

“T-to be fair I didn't exactly notice this one coming. It happens sometimes.”

“Well, when you knew you should have called. I would have come to the park and kept an eye on things. Wynonna, for all her faults, would understand not wanting to deal with anyone in that case. Your health is important to us.”

“Is it now?”

“Do not be daft,” the man warns him, “I'm sour enough with you for things to be uncomfortable but there is also Waverly who would like you to know and I quote 'you have absolutely no common-sense or sense of self-preservation and when you are well enough she's going to punch you for this' end quote. So maybe learn a little better not to upset your family.”

“She...said that?”

“That she did and I am sure she means it, too.”

He can't help the soft chuckle before he'd murmur, “Maybe not the worst thing to hear in all of this.”

Doc rolls his eyes as he moves closer before gently reaching to brush his fingers along his jaw. “I let Levi know you'd be here for a spell and not to worry about you as well as to keep your more tempestuous community members in check so that you do not have to worry.”

“You actually trust Levi to do that?”

“No, that's why I also called and repeated it to Hui and Howard both.”

Bobo can't help laughing softly. “You are certainly learning, Henry. And...thank you. For what it's worth, you didn't have to do that and I appreciate it.”

“Hey now,” Doc murmurs gently as he cups the side of his face, “We are partners, yes? That means I'm allowed to try and help look after the boys if I feel the need.”

“And we both know the boys need all the looking after in the world.”

“Ain't gonna argue that because they are frightfully bad at a lot of things. However, you are to worry about nothing and just rest. I mean it.”

“You know I'm pretty bad at that,” he remarks, “How are you going to be sure that I will?”

At that, the other straightens before removing his hat and making short work of his boots, pants and shirt before slowly sliding into the bed curling an arm around him. “Because, Robert,” he murmurs nuzzling against his jaw, “I'm gonna be right here makin' sure you do.”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Become the Place I Rest My Weary Bones

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The pairing and plot are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG-15 (for suggestive situations and nudity)

Doc Holliday finds himself in an interesting situation when exhaustion leads him to the last place he should be going without his weapons: The trailer park owned by one Bobo Del Rey...

*~*~*~*~*

Become the Place I Rest My Weary Bones

He slides his hat off before raking his fingers through his hair. Breathing staccatos for a moment before steadying and John Henry wonders, not for the first time, if the crazy filling his life was worth it. He was becoming more and more assured that Wyatt had been right all along and he should have just let nature take its course. 

He’d just been too much of a coward back then; too afraid to square up to all his deeds and choices in life. He’d wanted more time for something he couldn’t even recall anymore; he was so tired. His very bones were tired. And at the end of the day, he wasn’t sure what it was he was actually achieving anymore. 

Some days it didn’t even seem worth it. 

“You look a little stressed, Henry. Might I suggest meditation or actual sleep?” 

The drawled tone that usually got him to rebuke him with just as much spite startles him and he is pretty sure he gives a panicked look that off-sets the Revenant because Bobo blinks for a long moment before going, “Okay, you definitely need to sleep then because I assure you I’m not trying for that sort of response from you. Goodness, Holliday.” 

“I...what?” He suddenly realizes that he’d wandered out to the compound without realizing it which is why the other had approached. 

“Come on,” the other says immediately noting his confusion, “I am not having you wandering around like some idiot zombie.”

He’s too tired for an altercation, that’s what he decides to go with, when he lets the other walk him through the park to his own trailer. Everything was getting harder to focus on and the most troubling is the thought buzzing around that he’d come here of all places when exhausted beyond measure. He was no threat and wasn’t even armed. And here he was; at the compound with the goddamn Revenants. 

Being shot probably would have been well deserved at this point. 

Fingers tugging impatiently get his attention and he blinks slowly, sluggishly at the other male who huffs at him, “You’re clearly not going to sleep in your hat or most of this so come on and work with me a little, Henry, before I just strip you completely naked and shove you under the blankets.” He blinks a moment a little owlishly before would come, “You know what; fuck this. You’re going to stand there like a zombie then we’re doing this my way and you can bitch at me when your lightbulb turns back on.”

He still feels like he’s wading through molasses somewhat when the other starts removing layers and isn’t sure when the last time he'd actually slept was. Soon, he feels hands at his jeans and struggles to even get himself to respond with no success. And as it turns out, Bobo is not joking about stripping him to his skin and pushing him into his bed with a snarked, “Sleep, idiot, because clearly you need it.” 

At this point, he is unable to do more than just comply. 

Waking up is another matter entirely as consciousness brings with it all the revelations of his previous actions and decisions. A flush colors his skin as he realizes that he is indeed naked in Bobo Del Rey’s bed. “I did warn you,” comes the remark that has his attention shifting sharply to the demon leaning against the wall watching him. 

“H-how long...have I been asleep?” 

“Almost fourteen hours. Good job, Henry.”

He feels his skin heat up and is sure he’s flushing from embarrassment. Honestly, he should be more careful with himself but it was just getting to him. Everything was getting to him. “Did anyone try and call?”

“No, lucky for you no one seems to have noticed. I wouldn’t trust that to be the case a second time so try and get a better sleep pattern that involves more than a few days in between resting periods. You’re at a clear disadvantage when you do that since your first thought is to come here of all places. Honestly, I’m surprised no one took a shot at you.” 

“Suppose I have our tentative truce to thank for that.” 

“Probably though I don’t know if it covers idiot gunslingers waltzing around unarmed into the compound. Honestly, Henry, you are a menace.” 

“Says the fur-coat wearing Revenant.” 

“At least I sleep adequately.”

“Proper sleep is no excuse for bad fashion sense.” 

“Says the very naked man in my bed? Might wanna be careful about throwing insults if you don’t want to...handle the consequences, Henry.”

Despite the fact that the Revenant’s tone is clearly teasing, Doc can’t help the darkened flush or the way he makes sure most of him is covered. Bobo Del Rey was very unpredictable and he wasn’t sure exactly where the male’s lines were in this case so he isn’t sure exactly what was implied but he could guess. Maybe. “Fine, I’ll...suspend the argument about the coat then.”

That has the Revent snorting before he’d remark, “I promise that you are safe here. I would never do something without explicit consent so no need to worry about your virtue.”

“Are you sure about that?” 

The male gives a grin before snapping his teeth at him and answering, “Henry, I want you to be horny for me not terrified. It’s not at all fun if everyone is not having a good time. So yes, I am sure. Your virtue is safe. For now.”

“For now?” 

Bobo grins before repeating, “Yes, for now.” 

*~*~*~*~*

The promise, or possible threat, follows days after occupying more of Doc’s thoughts than he particularly enjoys.  While part of him is sure that the other had said it only to off-set him because heaven knew Bobo Del Rey liked to ruffle people; another part, a part he was trying very hard not to think about the implications of, wondered if it was honest interest.

He highly doubts it would be the case to be the latter rather than the former no matter how much parts of him would prefer the male to like him. There was something insufferably charming about the Revenant; a charisma that tempted no matter the underlying danger of the demon. Doc very much dislikes how much the male tempted him.

Fingers curl around the drink he hadn’t exactly touched in the past thirty minutes or so too engrossed in trying to wrangle his thoughts and Doc isn’t sure how to deal with this. While he knows having an actual conversation with the problem at hand would no doubt be the best idea he was all too aware of the fact that it wouldn’t be what he wanted. Not by a long shot. And he really isn't sure it was a good idea to just tell him he would really like to know what would happen if he was naked again with him and this time willing for whatever he desired. 

Would that be playing into his game? These thoughts and questions are  what has him wanting and yet unable to drink. And it is maddening. 

His phone goes off interrupting both his drink and thoughts and he answers before checking the number. “Hello?”

“Hello, Henry, how are you? Sleeping better, I hope.” 

The Revenant’s voice has his eyes closing as way too many emotions fill him. “We need to talk, Bobo Del Rey, and not over the telephone.” He needed to see him, to gauge what he was feeling and whether or not this was honest. 

That he wants it  to be honest says a lot. 

“So you want to speak face-to-face? I can do that. Where would you feel most comfortable then, Henry?” 

“Would you be okay coming to Shorty’s?” 

“I will be there in ten.”

Somehow, Doc isn’t sure if he’s impressed or concerned with the ease by which the other agrees to meet him. He gazes at the drink on the table and sighs softly before rubbing his face. What, exactly, was he hoping to accomplish by inviting the Revenant to him? Clearly it wasn’t a good idea; no exchange between them was but he was curious, too curious to see how far the other was willing to let him call the shots and just how much of himself he was willing to reveal.

He does not have too long to fret or over think the situation before a familiar figure struts over to him. "Haven't taken a drink? That's a new one for you, Holliday."

"I find myself distracted these days as it were. Something I suspect was your intention, Bobo Del Rey."

He watches the male's reaction and finds the amused smile telling. "Well, I suppose I might have had something to do with that at least a little bit. But I will point out that you did wander, with no weapons and more than half asleep,  into a place filled with Revenants. Someone had to save you from yourself at that point."

"So did I imagine the flirtations?"

There is something that falls heavy between them at the question, and Doc suddenly realizes that this was a turning point in whatever was between them. He watches the male trying to read him without allowing him to see how much he needed this answer. For someone who was good at cards, he’s not sure how much he hides as he waits for the response. 

“No, you did not,” comes the answer as the male rests his chin on his hand and watches him before adding, “I do not know if anyone has told you but you are as insufferable as you are charming, John Henry Holliday. I am hardly immune to your charms such as they are. Which is probably why you haven’t been murdered. Or shoved back in that well.” 

“Much obliged on both of those not being done to my person,” he answers fingers tracing around the rim of his glass, “What I want...what I need to know is what your intentions are, Bobo  Del Rey.”

"Thought I told you this already, Henry: I want you willing for me." Doc is still and merely gazes at him which earns a rather bemused grin from the Revenant watching him in return. "Considering your many dalliances, I cannot be the first to hit on you."

No, he was right about that. Doc was not a stranger to being approached. However none of them were at all this charismatic, dangerous, or tempting. And heaven knew that it was a dangerous gamble with this particular male. “We both know that you are by far the most tempestuous, dangerous, and unpredictable individual in Purgatory so it goes without saying that one needs to be cautious where you are concerned.”

“You are learning, good. But honestly, Henry, as I told you; it’s not fun unless everyone is having a good time. I’m a demon not a monster. So, you decide how comfortable you are with that idea and let me know. But as you’ve no doubt figured out; minus the usual nonsense that you know not to bring in my orbit, the park is open to you though I would not come unarmed again. I may remember what constitutes being a gentleman but they still don’t and considering your penchant for taking their money from them; they’re not at all forgiving or lenient. Demons rarely are.”

“I can handle the Revs just fine,” Doc answers, “Been shot at plenty of times. Least they don’t throw the bullets back at a man.”

“Well, if you’d learn the first time not to shoot at someone who manipulates metal maybe you would not have that problem, Henry.” 

He finds himself, despite the situation, chuckling. “Perhaps, you do have a point.”

“Several of them if I’m near cutlery.”

He has no doubt of that or anything metallic in the male’s reach being turned into a dangerous and possibly lethal projectile if he willed it. It was very much one of the top reasons to be very careful in one’s dealings with him no matter what those dealings were; personal, professional, etc. 

“Is everything okay over here?” 

Doc finds himself tensing at the question though he knew there was a chance of interruption considering where they were. He gazes at Waverly who is looking at Bobo with all the mistrust he’s sure is deserving and more. “No, Waverly,” he answers, “Just talkin’. ‘S nothin’ to worry about.” 

“Are you sure because I can call Wynonna…” 

“No,” he says firmly, “Bobo Del Rey is here at my behest so there is no need to involve Wynonna in what is a friendly conversation.”

“If you’re sure?” 

“I am. No need to fret, darlin’. I have this.” The bemused snort has him giving the Revenant a look before stating, “Do not make me change my mind.” 

Bobo’s response is to reach for his ignored drink and down it. Doc huffs at him. “Really?” 

“You weren’t drinking it.” 

“I might have.” 

“I doubt it.” 

“You owe me a drink still.”

“Sure, when you’re actually going to drink it and not stare at it like you don’t know what on earth it is. Which is exactly what you were doing before I called no doubt.” 

“Considering how things went down ‘tween us before I do not think you are at all surprised at that.” 

Bobo grins and snaps his teeth at him. “I do like to keep you guessing, Henry. One of the perks of things is that you get flustered and it’s a fantastic sight.”

“I do not…” 

“You do,” comes the interruption as the other leans into his space, lips curved in that familiar cocky, and strangely enticing, grin, “and honestly, I like having that effect on you.”

Somehow, Doc is pretty sure he does, too. But he decides that’s a matter for another time as he rises. “Walk with me,” comes his curt command to the other that he hopes will be adhered to and is pleased when he ends up with the other outside the building. 

“Since when do you…” Not letting the Revenant get whatever he means to say out, Doc jerks him into his space and presses a kiss to his mouth tasting him and the drink he’d stolen. It’s hard and hungry and leaves him feeling slightly drunk when he breaks it watching the other’s eyes go stormy. “Careful what you start, gunslinger,” comes the low rumbled warning, “You know what you’re tempting here.” 

“Maybe that’s half the fun; the danger of it all,” he murmurs with a husky tone, “because you are surely the most dangerously enticing individual in all of Purgatory, Bobo Del Rey.” 

“Flattery usually gets you everywhere but I think I just want you back at my trailer and in my bed naked again. This time without you being overly tired. At least not from lack of sleep.”

“Suppose that can be arranged. You driving?” 

At that the Revenant gives a grin and a familiar snap of his teeth. “Control is very much my thing.” 

Doc can only laugh before he walks for the other’s truck.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Giving Aid

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The pairing is mine and the plot is “requested” while the rest is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG-16

Because everyone agrees that Doc chained to a stripper-pole is something...there is this. There will be a far more explicit sequel in the future...so stay tuned. 

*~*~*~*~*

He needed to stop getting himself into these situations. Clearly. Gritting his teeth and jerking again has the same result as the last fourteen tries; doing absolutely nothing about his current state. “Goddammit,” he grits out, “This is embarrassing and I am not doin’ this again. What is it with these goddamn stripper poles?!”

Doc Holliday could live without this sort of embarrassment. And who had one of these in their own home?! Several more fruitless attempts leave him hissing through clenched teeth and getting very, very prickly about the whole situation.Of course the sound of a door opening from a different room isn’t as comforting as it should be and he tenses almost immediately.

And it’s not long before light falls as the door opens before there’s a familiar chuckle followed by, “My goodness, Henry, you just cannot seem to keep yourself out of trouble now can you?” 

“Bobo Del Rey,” he groans softly, “Is there any chance you could just get me off of this thing without making it an ordeal?” 

“I mean, I could,” the Revenant responds as he makes a show of walking around to face him before crouching down with an unsettlingly delighted smile, “But then I’d miss a chance at you bound like this and I don’t think I want to ignore such a tantalizing...opportunity as it were.”

Doc Holliday does not at all like the sound of this conversation. “I will remind you that we have a treaty in place and that…” 

“Spare me the threat of Wynonna Earp,” the male interrupts, still amused, “I am aware of how this works. I only negate that if I let harm before one of you. Embarrassment, however, is not on the list of punishable sins unfortunately for you, Henry. And I do so love the thought of making you squirm.”

Somehow, Doc is pretty sure it would have been less an ordeal had literally anyone else found him in this predicament which is why it had to be him didn’t it? He gives the male a baleful look before retorting, “Could you please just get me off of here.” 

“Oh, not to worry, I have every intention of doing so,” comes the reply before is added, “After I have some fun with this.”

Doc groans softly even though he knew that was coming. How could he not considering who Bobo Del Rey was? “Is there a way I can convince you not to?” 

“Let me think about that for a moment...Mmm, nope.” 

He sighs leaning back against the object with a huff. “Honestly, I don't know why I bothered askin’ that.” 

“Me, either,” Bobo agrees mildly, “Anything else you’d like to try at this point? Let me just preface this by saying no one else will be dropping in unexpectedly.” 

“They found the target then?” 

“Mmhmm, and I told Wynonna I’d find you.” 

“And she believed you?” 

He gives him a very dismaying smirk. “Why Henry, I am hurt that you don’t trust me to play nicely with my allies. Besides, Earp seems to think that I am, in fact, a man of my word. Minus the obvious threats with Peace Maker on what would happen if I didn’t or if something bad happened to you.” 

“Which still doesn’t answer as to why you won’t unbind me from here.” 

Fingers reach and lightly brush along his jaw and he flinches before he can get ahold of himself making the demon grin. “Oh, Henry,” comes the amused crooning tone, “It would be an absolute travesty were I to ignore such an appealing situation as this.”

“In other words, you are going to be an insufferable dick until you feel like letting me off of here,” he snaps, “Honestly, don’t you have better things to…” 

The feel of the male’s lips pressing hard against his takes him quite a bit off guard in all honesty and leaves him merely blinking at the other startled by the turn of events even as he realizes that he should not be. 

They’d been toe-ing the line of acceptable behavior with one another for a few weeks now; the tension almost unbearable in some ways as neither of them seemed to know if they wanted to tip the scales into territory that neither of them would come back from. It seemed like Bobo Del Rey was done considering the situation and had chosen to meet it head-on in his usual brash fashion. 

“Del Rey…” he starts unsure if he’s asking a question or warning the other. 

“Are you really getting cold feet now?” comes the teasing remark as the male leans closer letting his lips press lightly against his throat to nip at the skin, “We’ve been circling ever since you stumbled from the well into my part of Purgatory.” 

Doc groans as his eyes close and he can’t help tilting his head to the side. “Th-this...ain’t...quite…” 

“What you had in mind?” Bobo chuckles, “C’mon now, Henry, I’m a demon, remember? Besides, I think you like being at someone’s mercy.” A hand slides down to lightly palm him making him squirm slightly, “Ah huh, I’m right, too.”

“M-might I point out to the overly amorous demon that we are right now in someone’s basement and should not be doin’ this here.” 

Bobo chuckles softly. “Is that your only complaint? I did tell you no one was going to interrupt didn’t I? It’s not the crime scene or close to it. You got drug to one of their familiar’s houses and locked up for later. Honestly, I shouldn’t be too surprised at that considering how everyone responds to you these days.”

“Glad to know I’m still wanted as a snack,” he murmurs before another nip has his breathing hitching, “C’mon...that’s...really not fair.” 

“Neither am I.” The words are followed as the hand lightly groping him works it’s way into his pants making him arch and pant heavily. “Mm, there we go. Why don’t you relax and leave things to me?” 

Doc’s eyes flutter and he’s really torn between wanting to be angry and seeing how far the other was willing to take this. He isn’t sure he trusts him but knows that at least his agreement with Wynonna will get him out of here with his life and most of himself intact. His pride? Probably not but then when had that ever been something kept when it came to this particular demon? “D-doin’ somethin’ that monumentally stupid might kill a man, you do realize.” 

“In any other instance, you’re probably right but in this…” The look he levels is full of heat and intent, “...in this, what I want is you; naked and hot and willing for me.”

“And bound to a stripper pole,” he deadpans trying to ignore the flush coloring his skin.

“Oh, that’s just a very...fantastic coincidence. But I have to admit that you do look very appealing trussed up like this.”

“You just get off on someone at your mercy don’t you?”

Bobo grins devilishly. “Depends very much on the person, Henry.”

Doc just bets it does.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Together Again

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Ambrose/Levi

Rating: G

About Season 2 when Wynonna had her “Vision Quest” and reset the curse so to speak, I wanted to write a drabble in which a certain pair of Revs get a second chance in this way, because Ambrose and Levi deserved better. 

*~*~*~*~*

Together Again

It was yet another shoving up into the elements and honestly, Levi could do without everything at this point. He couldn’t remember much from one bit of burning and nearly intolerable pain to the next and it was a jarring shift. He takes a few minutes to just breath in choked, raspy pants fingers clutching the dirt for dear life. Back, he was back. Again. And gods was it painful. He wasn’t sure it was just the torture or what had transpired before hell that was worse at this point.

He’s nearly calmed when a hand lightly threads through his hair before there comes, “Hello, trouble.”

“A-Ambrose…”

An arm curls around him tugging him back against the other before there’d come light nuzzling that helps ground him better than anything. Fish was here which meant all was well for the moment. He closes his eyes and rests back against him. “What’s…the chances of us just you know getting a small place this time and avoiding everything?” Ambrose murmurs against his neck, “Just you and me and a small bit of land?”

“You know someone would find us,” Levi answers, “Whether it’s one of the others or the heir. We’re always going to have to do something. It’s inevitable with this curse.”

Fish sighs as he holds him close. “Maybe…but we could still try. I’d like to keep you safer this time around.”

“What happened was my fault and no one else’s. I failed him.”

“He didn’t need to…”

“Doesn’t matter at this point. I don’t want to argue his choices.” He shifts slightly so that he can rest more comfortably under the other’s chin. “And I want that; a quiet home for the two of us but we won’t get it while we’re cursed. So it’ll have to wait.”

“Then this time do as I say and stay in the trailer,” Ambrose responds, “You can’t get into trouble if you are the homemaker.”

Levi snorts softly before responding, “Then who is going to make them feel better about themselves or about things if I don’t lose at poker on purpose.”

There is a moment of silence before would come, “You…lose on purpose?”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

You and Me, Always

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The Plot and pairing are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction.

Pairing: Levi/Ambrose

Rating: PG-13

Since I ignore canon to suit my own needs; I am most certainly changing Levi's fate from Season One. Why? Because I want to and honestly that's all the reason I really need. So Canon, whomst? I do not know her.

Carry on.

*~*~*~*

You and Me, Always

It would be the next morning that he'd feel himself dragged back to the right side of the line. Eyes squeezed shut tight and feeling a rush of relief as the burning stops, Levi doesn't dare move too afraid that another misstep will get him pitched right back.

He's very aware when the shackle around his ankle is removed and struggles with the want to tighten into as small a form as he can manage. “Here's a good idea for you while you are unable to argue with me; do not ever do that again because if you do and I am forced to make another example of you it's going to be Ambrose that pays the price.”

He feels himself flinch knowing that it was not an idle threat and definitely not wanting Bobo Del Rey anywhere in Fish’s general vicinity if he was angry. “Good,” the male continues clearly feeling his response, “Since we understand each other now know that I do not want to have to do this again.”

Of course he leaves him there to finish healing, not that anything was that much of a threat which is both blessing and curse because that means anyone of the others could, in theory, come there. He just doubts after the spectacle their boss had made of him that no one was very desiring of crossing him in any way.

So he tells himself to just rest and get back to the trailer hopefully before someone else told Ambrose about this. He doubted his partner would do anything stupid: Fish was far more cautious in his dealings than Levi and tended to be careful. Levi could be strong-willed and throw himself headfirst into things even ones that weren’t good for him. It was something that hadn’t changed from their past.

And he almost manages something akin to sleep, his body needing to conserve energy to repair the burnt flesh when he makes out the distinct sound of footsteps. He can’t bring himself to look and hopes that it’s not more trouble. “Why is it that I’m never surprised anymore?”

Fish’s voice is quieter than his normal playful tone and Levi wants to reassure him that it was fine, that he would be fine because he would but he hasn’t the energy for that. “I want so badly to just punch him for this. There was no reason even to secure Doc’s promise of loyalty...which by now we all know is garbage. He’s going to side with Wynonna in the end. She’s an Earp. It’s damn near inevitable.”

He tries to speak but his throat is too hoarse from screaming so he merely manages to open his eyes and gaze up at the other. Ambrose’s expression is pained but tender. “Honestly, Trouble,” he murmurs as he kneels down, “You need to be more careful with things.”

He closes his eyes again as Ambrose reaches and lightly threads his fingers through his hair. “I know what you’re going to say though,” he remarks, “You’ll point out that it wasn’t much of a choice at this point and if things aren’t made clear about our Boss’s ability to follow through on threats he’s going to have a hell of a time reigning in some of the Revs. I know that. I just...could he pick someone else to make an example out of?”

Levi is sure he probably could; too many of the Revenants seemed ill-disposed towards doing anything useful at this stage but he knew also that Bobo Del Rey was a man of forward thinking. He could see the big picture better than anyone and so Levi had to trust he knew what he was doing. Trust and keep his nose out of things better. But they were all so goddamn tired of the curse and dealing with each new Heir. Some peace would be nice at this point that wasn’t hell.

Ambrose soon goes silent and Levi wonders what his lover was considering before he feels the light weight of a sheet drawn over him. “No sense in moving you right now,” he murmurs, “So guess we’re sleeping under the stars tonight. If we’re lucky you’ll be healed by the morning.” And if there was a more clear punishment for idiocy it was the fact that he cannot enjoy the feel of the other making himself comfortable against him.

Ambrose’s words would ring true as Levi stirs at daybreak. Awakening, he finds most of the burns have all but vanished and the rest would be gone by that evening. He watches Ambrose sleep curled into him content and peaceful. Levi smiles at the sight he makes like that. Of all the things in the world; that he had Ambrose was his most cherished blessing. While this curse wasn’t something he would wish on anyone, having the one man he loved most with him made it bearable.

It’s not long before his partner stirs, eyes blinking open slowly before he’d smile. “Well, there you are. Feel like getting into less trouble going forward?”

“To be fair...that wasn’t exactly the plan here,” he manages.

Ambrose chuckles as he sits up before leaning and kissing his nose. “Ah huh. You get into trouble without even looking for it. I can’t say as I don’t worry but...sometimes it just doesn't do any good to work oneself up. Besides, I think the others are going to finally get into line with that little show. If someone like Doc Holliday will do as he’s told...they might want to stay on the Boss’s good side.”

“We need to get the Heir to do something else with her time that isn’t chasing us down.”

“Maybe,” Ambrose agrees, “but for now we need to just stay out of the boss’s way and let him handle things. I’d prefer if you’d stay close and out of his hair for a bit.”

Levi slowly pulls him closer before murmuring, “For you? Anything.”

Ambrose chuckles before cupping his face and kissing him softly, sweetly. “I love you, you troublesome thing. Now c’mon and let’s get you showered.”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Push Until I Break

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot is by request and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG-14 for content

Thanks to the Hollirey server I’m a part of you get this angsty/fluff thing because we all agree that Bobo is bad at pain management or at least focusing on his own. So when he gets injured; he ignores it until he can’t with varying results.

As always, it’s laced with Hollirey…

*~*~*~*

Push Until I Break

To be fair, it hadn’t occurred to him at the time to be anything near concerned. He was a demon and it wasn’t Peace Maker. It wouldn’t kill him. Funny how that had become his gauge by which to judge the importance of things. Had Wynonna shot him? No? Then all was fine and he could damn well go about his day.

There is a nagging part of him that suggests maybe this isn’t the healthiest way to handle a situation but he pushes it down. There was stuff to do and he needed to focus. He had Revenants to handle and an heir to keep relatively amicable so no one got shot up in his compound.

Besides, the unlucky individual who had managed to stab him of all things got a very harrowing lesson on making sure the person he shoved the blade into was actually human and therefore could die like that. He should have been more aware of his surroundings. That sort of nonsense could kill someone. Well, someone else anyway.

A call from Wynonna has him making the trek to Shorty’s irritated that he yet again has to have a sit-down and wondering which idiot of his was going to be shaken and or tossed over the line until they actually thought better and makes himself comfortable at the bar. The twinge in his back worsens a bit, the weight of the coat and his shirt uncomfortable but that, too, was usual so he forces it away as he orders a drink. Might as well try and pretend civility.

Pretending was about all he had at that moment anyway.

So watching her saunter over has him telling himself to be downright pleasant if he wanted to not deal with anything resembling her threatening him with Peace Maker to add to his troubles. “Do your Revenants just like to push boundaries for no reason?”

He wants to drop his head onto the bartop but barely manages to keep himself from it before managing in what he hopes is a neutral tone, “Are you just figuring this out now?”

“So it’s nothing for them to just see how far they can take something then?”

Bobo gives her a flat, unimpressed look. “No. Did something actually happen or did one of the boys decide to amuse himself by doing something you can’t quite make a stink over?”

“The latter.”

“Then what am I doing here?”

“Can you reiterate…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Earp!” he snaps, “You are being ridiculous about nothing and I’m not in the mood to cater to you! They’re going to keep doing this so long as you keep freaking out every time one of them comes into contact with someone. They know the rules and they obey. Everything else you are just going to have to ignore unless you’d like to drink twice as much as Holliday.”

He watches her look at him, really look at him and suddenly doesn’t like the way her brow furrows. “What, something on my face now?”

“Are you okay? You look….a little paler than normal.”

“Am I…” His back twinges hard and it’s a strain to keep from showing his discomfort, “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me, but you look off. You sure you’re okay?”

“If I wasn’t would it bother you?”

“Not me but I’m sure Doc would have a few complaints to make in that direction.”

He snorts before reaching for his drink. That it takes effort to raise it has his attention before he realizes that his vision was getting a little fuzzy.

The stabbing. Oh. Right. “Earp,” he says quietly as the adrenaline, as even his own stubbornness finally gives, “You’re gonna need to grab this bottle.”

“What, why?”

The twinge becomes a ripple and his teeth snap together a moment before he manages, “‘Cause I’m about to pass out.”

“Wh-what...Bobo? BOBO!”

His vision goes gray and then black as he feels himself tumble with the parting thought of, ‘Fucking hell why did it have to be in front of her?’

He doesn’t come back to awareness on Shorty’s floor, he finds which is quite frankly a kindness he wasn’t expecting. The faint smell of tobacco and whiskey, however, tells him exactly where he’s resting, his face in a pillow. “You know, John Henry, most gentlemen ask a man to their bedroom,” he remarks trying to sound casual.

“Most men don’t faint in the middle of a bar from a stab wound up through their back and between their ribs, Robert,” comes the response that warns him someone wasn’t happy.

“Wasn’t fatal,” he tries, “Didn’t really think it was going to cause me such grief. I’m sure Wynonna enjoyed that performance.”

“Despite you and Wynonna not being civil to each other in any public forum she does not truly wish you ill so no she did not particularly like the sight of you collapsing in the bar less when we peeled your jacket off to reveal your injuries. How is it that you still have no concept of takin’ care of yourself better?”

“Revenant, remember? If it’s not Peace Maker it’s not a problem.”

There is a huff before the bed would dip down and the feel of hands would be on his back careful about the pressure over his mark. “You need to treat yourself as more precious than that, Robert. You’re worth more.”

His eyes go half-lidded before he lets out a soft sigh at a particularly gentle touch. “N-not to point out the obvious here but...pain’s been something of a familiar friend for a while. I got used to it. Probably should have paid better attention but I had things that needed to be done.”

“You cannot do that, you realize. It’s not fair to you.”

“See, there you go again. Be gentle. Be fair. John Henry, I’m a goddamn demon. There’s nothing remotely soft or gentle or...a-ahh...f-fuck...don’t do that!” His chastisement is of course interrupted by the press of fingers right along the edges of the mark; a massaging motion that has him arching chasing that feeling.

“Maybe I should keep a closer eye on you then because Wynonna doesn’t trust you to follow the rules and I don’t trust you to take care of yourself. Everyone wins.” Bobo would make an argument but at that moment the man presses his lips directly against the mark drawing a low whine from him as he squirms.

“F-fucking hell, J-John H-Henry, if I agree will you stop the goddamn chatter and put your mouth to better use?”

There’s a low chuckle before would come, “Well now darlin’, I do love your negotiation skills.”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Of Taking Care and Toeing the Line

Series:  Wynonna Earp Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG

Another HC-based drabble this time about Bobo's mark making the skin of his back get inflamed around the edges of it every so often. So you get this. Clear Hollirey even if a certain extra(™) demon won't voice it. All the yes to Doc being a wonderful boyfriend even when his demon is an emotionally faulty idiot.

*~*~*~*~*

Of Taking Care and Toeing the Line

The message was terse: more a guttural, growled command to come to him. In a certain mood, Doc would have either drug his feet and made the Revenant wait for him to be good and ready to make an appearance or straight up just ignored the summons altogether. However, the faint echo of pain he picks up in the other's voice is what makes Doc's decision for him very easily.

Today was clearly a bad day.

There is no cocky remark when he lets himself into the trailer from either himself or the occupant. He crosses to the bedroom and feels something tighten unpleasantly in him at the sight of the other shirtless on his bed revenant-mark inflamed and his fingers digging into the sheets as his breathing comes in pained gasps.

Doc hates these days most of all. Moving swiftly, he grabs the familiar jar of ointment and settles himself next to the other. He wants to talk, to try and help but he refrains because he knows the rebuke that will follow. So he bites his tongue as he opens the jar before starting to massage the substance into Bobo's skin.

His reward is the other's calming breathing and the loosened hold on his bedsheets the more Doc works. The silence is heavy between them holding so much that was being avoided. As if that would stop the inevitable...but Doc would wait until this stubborn demon realized that all on his own that not saying things didn't mean they weren't clearly implied.

Denial was something Bobo Del Rey made an art of.

Finally, Doc feels the other go limp and pliant in relief. "Lock the door on your way out," comes the low command as he's replacing the lid. It hurts, the abrupt dismissal, but he had expected it nevertheless. No matter how many times he wished for a chance to remain, Bobo would not take his presence longer than it took to get him what he wanted. Doc is sure that, too, is a defense mechanism.

He sets the jar back in the drawer before gazing at the other who is watching him almost challenging him even as his eyes flutter more than stay open. He's never defied the "rules" of their partnership before and Doc is sure Bobo expects to be left alone once again.

So, it's with clear deliberation that he reaches up and takes off his hat while holding the other's gaze before reaching down and removing his boots. "What do you think..."

"I think that it is an ungodly hour of the morning for a man to be up," he interrupts before working off his shirt and his pants leaving himself in his boxers, "And as such, I'm reclaiming some sleep." With that said and without giving either of the a chance to react or him to reconsider this idea; Doc makes himself comfortable on the bed beside the other in the space between Bobo and the wall.

There is a sharp sound from the revenant; something ruffled or startled, it was very hard to tell with him, before would come, "If you so much as snore, Holliday, I'm throwing you out to the others dressed as you currently are."

He might have a witty comeback if not for the fact that this was new and very dangerous territory. He'd never been allowed to stay in the other's bed like this and does not want to mess it up for future occasions where the other might allow it. It was clearly an intimacy that made the other nervous to allow though he'd be the last person to voice Bobo Del Rey as being afraid of anything especially in earshot of the Revenant.

So, he merely closes his eyes and settles himself for a bit more sleep. He's just not expecting when Bobo shifts onto his side back to him and scoots until he's pressed against him. The heat of his skin is high but not unbearably so; a familiar heat he felt only when they were having sex. Slowly and so, so carefully: he curls an arm around him testing the water to see. Bobo makes a soft sound but it seems more tired and pleased then hostile so Doc leaves it there and slowly drifts off with the realization that he was in fact spooning the other.

Somehow, he's sure they won't talk about this yet, either.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Time Together

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The pairing is mine and the plot is requested while everything else is borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Levi/Ambrose

Rating: G

To be honest, I love one of the first admittedly LGBT couples in Wynonna which is Levi and Ambrose (and this fandom can take this pairing from my cold-dead hands because I’m universe altering this so that it’s not a bury-your-gays scenario). 

Author’s Note:This is for you @angelickall​ for your request for  a fluffy and cute drabble of these two adorable Revs dancing together.

*~*~*~*

Time Together

Someone was clearly having a good time if the loud music wasn’t something to go by. Ambrose finds himself snorting softly as he helps clear around the trailer because in a place like this; everyone knows everyone else’s business more or less. There was nothing even remotely close to privacy. So loud music meant someone was definitely getting lucky. That he could hear it three trailers away meant they were having a really good time apparently.

“Something entertaining to you?”

“The music selection,” he answers as he shifts his gaze to Levi who was dragging a piece of metal with a look of exasperation, “You need some help there, gorgeous?”

“No,” comes the grumbled reply, “And I’m hot and sweaty and far from anything remotely resembling good-looking, Fish.”

“Aww,” he murmurs as he moves closer, “I disagree. You are very cute.”

“Ambrose,” comes the warning that he completely ignores as he reaches and lightly pushes the object away before tugging the other Revenant to him. “Ambrose, what are you doing?!”

Ambrose grins as the song genre changes. “There’s music and a very adorable Revenant here. I’m taking advantage of that.”

Levi tries to give a protest but finds himself relaxing as the other shifts and moves with him with a fond, “As you wish then, sir.”

Ambrose chuckles before leaning to kiss his nose. “You’re adorable and I cannot seem to help myself.”

“Is that why nothing gets done around here?”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, “but honestly, who can blame me with a man like you?”

Levi lets himself move closer to a better position against his partner. “Incorrigible flatterer.”

“Maybe but it’s also honest.”

Levi makes a soft noise that would probably be disagreement if Ambrose doesn’t choose at that moment to lean and lightly kiss him. And of course it’s highly effective in getting him to relax more and return one of his own. Ambrose smiles, content.

Sometimes one just had to savor the little things.

The music would change again and he’d let his partner go reaching and lightly running his fingers through his short hair. “I love you, Levi.”

The male leans into it, lips curved into a soft smile. “And I you, Ambrose. I always will, you know that.”

In the end, this was all he needed to hear.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

For You, I Will

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: Plot and pairing are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: G

Because there is a need in me to write Bobo taking care of a sick!Waverly in these trying times, you all get this. Because I need it. And I’m pretty sure so does the fandom. This takes place pre-Bulshar (because I don’t like that Season so Doc still has his ring).

*~*~*~*~*

For You, I Will

Bobo was used to getting calls mostly warning him to keep a tighter leash on the Revenants, sometimes to help with whatever supernatural inconvenience needed dealing with in the area, but never like one like this. “Hello?” he answers wondering why it was this number of all of them. While they all had his number because it was just easier that way he’d figure certain ones would never call him.

“B-Bobo?” Waverly’s voice is off, slurred and it has him stilling in an instant.

“Waverly?” he says softly, “Angel, what’s going on?” Her calling like this could not be good not with the strain of sickness hitting everything that was at all human. Everyone was in a panic trying not to get sick.

“I don’t...feel so good…”

Something squeezes tight in him. “Where are you?” he asks keeping his voice calm.

“G-getting off the Homestead. W-walking.”

Alarm fills him at that but he doubted she’d take being chastised well. “I’m coming to you, Angel. Hang on.” With that, he rushes out of his apartment before sending a text to Doc telling him to go and disinfect the homestead before Wynonna or Nicole got there and make sure they were okay.

He is at the baseline of the property when he watches her stumble down, pure stubbornness carrying her, and catches her before she tumbles. “Y-you...came…”

“For you? Always,” he murmurs as he picks her up, “Gonna take you back to the compound. Revenants can’t get this. I’ll have Doc tell Wynonna and Nicole.”

She shivers and presses closer. “C-cold. I’m cold…”

“Just hang on for me, Angel. It’s gonna be okay.”

He gets back to the compound in record time and in his trailer before taking off his coat and wrapping it around her. The sight of her burrowing in it would be something he’d be pleased about where it not such a bad situation. Of course his phone goes off and he’s not surprised to see Wynonna’s name. “Earp,” he answers it.

“If anything, and I mean anything happens to her…”

“She’s sick and she called me,” he interrupts, “Nothing is going to happen to her because I will kill anyone who tries.”

“I can’t believe she’d call you of all people.”

He tries to keep that from hurting him and forces out, “Yeah, well I can’t get sick and I doubt she wants any of you to come down with it. And considering I’ve protected her in the past it was a safe gamble to make.”

“She could have called Doc.”

There is a part of him that wasn’t sure why she hadn’t done that, too but tries to keep himself from reading too much into it and responds, “She was feverish and woozy when I got there. I don’t think she could think far enough to figure out who would be best. So I have her and she’ll remain here with me until better. None of you will be allowed on the premise.”

“Doc warned as much...but like I said: anything pervy or weird or…”

“Wynonna,” he interrupts, “I’m sleeping with Doc Holliday. There is absolutely nothing that you need to concern yourself about. And I take offense to you ever thinking I’d hurt someone I consider family.”

“Just...don’t you dare fail her, Robert.”

“I’m won’t,” he promises quietly, “Now look after the others. Waverly will be fine.”

“She better be.”

He ends the call irritated but that fades when he hears a hoarse, “B-Bobo?”

Immediately he’s to the bedside. “Hey, Angel.”

She pulls the coat closer. “S-Sorry if...Wynonna got mad. She...gets like that when she’s worried, you know.”

“An Earp’s short temper is nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Think you can drink something for me though? Gonna need to stay hydrated as much as you can.”

“I-I can try. N-no promises with how I feel.”

“Trying is all I ask,” comes his response as he moves for the small kitchen. It’s when he has a glass of juice in his hand and is by the bed he can’t help asking, “Why...didn’t you call Doc? He could have come up to the homestead to get you?”

As he watches, she looks a little embarrassed before saying, “I know but...you make me feel safe still.”

Something warm blooms in his chest as he hands her the cup. “You will always be safe with me, Angel.”

She manages a few sips before returning it and curling back up and he tucks the coat and then the blanket over her. “I’m proud of who you have become, Waverly. You should be, too,” he murmurs as he gently kisses the top of her head.

“...love you, too, Bobo,” comes the sleepy reply that has him swallowing thickly before smiling. He steps outside to lean back against the door and sends a text to Doc.

It’s not even a few minutes before a message would come back, “What else did you expect from her? Our Waverly is a smart girl. She knows when someone is truly in her corner. Take good care of our angel and I’ll look after the rest of them. <3” 

The heart emoji makes him laugh softly and wonder if, in the end, this wasn’t as close to heaven as he’d get.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

His Angel

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: Plot and characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made.

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: G

When Bobo Del Rey comes down sick it’s a very big surprise as to who is there to look after him... 

Author’s Note: We’re not even discussing Seasons 2 or 3 in this House save for basic knowledge; Waverly is ½ angel, Robin is precious and should be with Jeremy. Period. Everything else has been played with because I’m not giving up Hollirey or Doc’s immortality.

Anyway, I have a mighty need for fics with Bobo and Waverly and their familal bond because you can pry him being her adopted gay!Dad from my hands (and not even then).

*~*~*~*

His Angel

He’d thought nothing of the heat infusing along his skin; to be honest he was used to feeling like his blood was on fire in his veins. So he’d brushed it off like he did all the other discomforts he’d become accustomed to and focuses on the renovations going on in the compound. Mostly it was him moving metal and snapping at the others when they got quarrelsome because Revenants...never could do anything without someone nearly getting into a fistfight.

And the heat slowly increases by increments sending a flush along his skin that starts faint but as time wears on gets more noticeable. “Boss?” Howard’s voice is careful, cautious and he turns his attention to him feeling a little more unsteady than usual.

“What?” he demands.

“Are you...okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” His tone is supposed to be sharp, hard but there is something strangely shaky to it he’s suddenly not liking.

“You’re flushed,” the revenant points out voice even more careful now, “And you look a little off-kilter. You sure you’re okay?”

“Why would I be anything but…” A mis-step has him actually stumbling, somehow. Had he moved? He didn’t think he moved but the universe does; a violent tilting that nearly has him with a face-full of dirt.

So not okay then. It takes him far longer than he’d like to get his vision to get focused instead of blurry and he is pretty sure everyone in the area is now looking at him with varying degrees of something suspiciously like concern. “‘M fine,” he manages, “Nothing…” The ground shifts and he’s unconscious before he realizes he’s falling.

Stifling heat is what he’s aware of as he struggles to regain consciousness; it floods nearly every part of him in an unpleasant burning sensation that makes him want to curl into a ball or scream neither of which he has any intention of doing. And then there is the feel of something chilled against his skin and he has to have made some sound as a voice soothes, “Shh, I know but you’re running a fever and this’ll help.”

Waverly? Was that...it sounded like Waverly but there was no way it could be. “‘S hot…”

“Yeah, your temp's up there. Jeremy was sort of amazed you hadn’t caught on fire. Apparently, you have some virus strain that seems to only affect demons so we had you removed from the compound. Doc said he’d stay there and make sure none of them came down sick or if they did to quarantine them until they were better.”

It was definitely Waverly’s voice. But...but why? “Angel...what…”

A soft laugh escapes. “You got belligerent and wouldn’t let anyone else near you so Doc got fed up and called me out there. Never could behave could you?” Soft fingers lightly brush along his forehead. “You just rest okay? Nicole and I are looking after you, and Doc has the Revenants. It will be fine.”

“D-doesn’t feel fine.”

“Well, it is.” Waverly’s voice is soft but firm. “You saved me when I was a child. Let me return the favor.”

“Y-you never needed to repay that, Angel. I’d do it again. To protect you. Hell will freeze over before I don’t.”

There is a light brush of her lips against his forehead with a following, “Rest, Bobo. You’ll feel better when you do.” A cool cloth is replaced over hot skin and he feels himself settling back, letting himself drift off half-sure he’s dreamt this entire thing.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

In Conclusion

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and the rest is mine in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Pairing: PG overall

Sixth and final in  a series based on letters between Doc Holliday and Bobo Del Rey depicting a shift in their relationship and some demons to exorcise.

Author’s Note: And you get what you asked for here, hopefully when Doc has his answer to his letter in “Yours, Always”. In true fashion both sides are just wanting their particular members happy.

But in the end, don’t we all?

*~*~*~*

In Conclusion

The trailer is a mess; anything metal or metal based is strewn haphazardly. It’s not his concern. It’s not. Nor is the fact that he’s sure anyone within hearing distance is fearful for their lives after his very vocal, very long screaming session.

Thankfully no one had dared knock on the door.

So he’d spent a night sleeping in the midst of the chaos when he could no longer make sounds without his throat feeling raw like sandpaper had been rubbed down it curled tightly tucked up into as small a figure as he could get. Never let it be said he did emotions well at this point.

Sluggishly he comes to on the floor and it takes a bit before he can pull himself together. A low huff escapes him at the sight of the mess and the feel of dried tears on his skin. He’d definitely gotten way over-emotional hadn’t he? Pulling himself to his feet, he shuffles to the bathroom and throws himself into a shower trying to ignore the clear indications of everything. It’s not easy.

So he’s quicker to get done and dressed and out of the trailer. Pushing the door shut, he’s met with loitering Revenants keeping quite a bit of distance just watching. He gives a harsh snarl low in his throat. “Th’ fuck are you all lookin’ at?”

“Everything...better?” Howard’s tentative question has him snapping his teeth and making the male step back further from him.

“Look,” he says trying for something that was less thunder than he felt, “I’m trying here. So don’t push your luck and go do something constructive that is not bothering anyone we’ve promised to play nicely with. Understand? The compound hasn’t been torn apart. Everything is fucking perfect at that point.”

Howard opens his mouth, closes it, opens it. Seems to reconsider and then merely nods. The man was learning. And then comes, “If you are all done giving our boss a hard time there are things to be done.” At this point, Levi deserved a raise for putting himself through this though right then Bobo just wants a smoke and to try and stop feeling entirely too fucking much at this point.

Of course the menace re-approaches once the others are shooed off and he takes a long drag of the cigarette staring at him, almost daring him to be stupid. “If you would like my advice…”

“I don’t,” he interrupts after exhaling the smoke, “I really just don’t.”

“If you did,” Levi continues as if he hadn’t just been not-so subtly threatened, “I would suggest going and talking to him. Bring him to you. But talk. You two have been apart for a bit because of things you both need to do but at this juncture, I really think communication or at the very least something physical would help this.”

“You don’t even know when to quit do you?”

Levi looks at him and Bobo hates how amazing patronizing the man had gotten since his last stint in hell. He’d been keeping his partner closer to him this time around and was far less willing to be bullied. “Boss, I know a man in love when I see them. And you love him. The opposite is true but you’ve not let yourself see that either. So go. Talk to him. Let him know how far in you are for him. Because you don’t hide it well.”

He was going to need several cigarettes it seemed and a drink if he was going to get through anything resembling this sort of conversation with Levi. And honestly, he could shut him up pretty quickly but as prickly as he’d been...sometimes, you just had to let them chastise you to make them feel better.

He’d learned a long time ago how to keep Revenants in line. And giving them the chance to do this was okay so long as it was certain individuals. Were it a few others and they would have been tied and over the line. He was being decidedly merciful at this point.

*~*~*~*~*

Doc drags his thumbs around the rim of the cup but makes no move to pick it up. He wondered if it was a record at this point; having a full cup of a drink and not tasting it in a pretty lengthy bit of time. “So, I’m going to guess things are not exactly great with you and our resident Revenant King?” Wynonna’s voice is soft, cautious even.

“Whatever would make you think that?”

“Because he’s the only one who can make you both drink more and less and it’s a weird combination. Wanna talk about it?”

“I am afraid that it has to reach it’s conclusion before I can do that with much assurance,” he answers.

“In other words, you’re waiting for him to figure out how he’s going to respond?”

“Yes.”

Wynonna winces. “Well, depending on how personal this whole thing is and I’m going to guess it’s a lot of personal, it may take him a while before he figures out what he’s feeling most and work from there.”

“Considering the state of things...that’s what worries me.”

“That bad?”

He sighs softly. “Without saying too much that isn’t mine to say, I will merely admit that I did not handle him well in the past.”

“So you knew him?”

“That I did. I just don’t remember because I was a drunken prick to him. Suppose that’s the only mercy anyone is allotting me in this.”

“Well, at least you’re trying here. You’ve done nothing but try since you got out of that well.”

“Will it be enough though?”

“Will it...Wow, you...This is really personal isn’t it?”

“Wynonna,” he says quietly, “I love him so yeah, it’s really personal. And I cannot bear the thought that he might not be willin’ to give me a chance to prove that on account of a certain goddamn Earp and his way of bein’ wholly selfish and a dick.”

“Good ol’ Wyatt Earp was a mess wasn’t he?”

“Oh, you have no idea. Not to say he didn’t have some decent qualities but...he wasn’t how any historian is ever going to paint him.”

“Most aren’t,” she murmurs, “But I think in this; you’ve done what you can, you’ve said your piece. You’re just...going to have to let him decide now what his next move is.”

“I know that,” he says quietly, “I’ve never been a patient man before. And this...This is not something I could recover from.”

“Hey, none of that. You’ve never lost when it was important and I doubt you’ll start with Bobo Del Rey. Just give him some time to be all overly emotional demon and let him figure it out. He’ll come to you when he’s ready. And Doc? No matter how this ends, you still have family and we will support you in any way we can.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, thickly, “I appreciate it.”

She squeezes his shoulder. “Buck up, cowboy, and drink that before someone wonders if the product here is bad or poisoned.”

Despite the situation, Doc finds himself snorting. “Don’t scare off the patrons, got it.”

He’s still sitting contemplatively when he’s approached. Shifting his attention, he finds himself gazing at Levi. And if he’s not mistaken, the male looks just a shade too amused for words. “Levi,” he greets.

“Doc,” he answers, extending his hand with an envelope.

Carefully, he takes it; the lightness slightly worrisome and a fear begins in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, he pulls it out before realizing it was a single folded page and wonders if he really wants to do this here before choosing that he might as well. He unfolds it expecting a great many things, all of them pretty awful, and his eye catches the simple two-word message: Come outside.

He pauses only as long as it takes to set the message and his hat by the cup before rising trusting enough that both would be looked after and heads for the door heart in throat. He steps outside wondering exactly what he was walking into and finds the other waiting by a wall, hands in his pockets trying to seem comfortable. Doc is sure at any other time he’d pull it of but there were too many tells with the other that made any posturing a lie. “I’m here,” he says softly as he steps closer, “As bade.”

He expects a lot of things; anger, snarky commentary, accusations and at the worst him laughing and throwing everything back in his face. And part of him is sure he’d deserve all of it. What he gets is the feel of a belt loop being gripped as he’s jerked forward before another hand tugs his face up and lips are pressed against his. Soft, this kiss is soft and meltingly sweet. A soft, pleased sigh escapes him against Bobo’s mouth before he tugs him closer to deepen it.

Of course it’s broken before he’d like, the other lightly pressing his forehead against his, breathing unsteady. “One chance,” comes the words that have his emotions rising, “You have one chance in this, Henry.”

“All I need is one,” he murmurs fingers tracing along the other’s jaw as he meets his gaze, “I love you, Robert Svane. That much I know to be true.”

“John Henry Holliday…”

He chuckles softly. “I’m a man of my word these days, Robert Svane, so when I say something you can take it as the truth.”

He watches the other close his eyes before there would come, “We’ll see, I suppose, won’t we?”

“Yes,” he agrees, leaning to place a soft kiss at the corner of his lips, “Together.” He feels the upwards curve of the other’s lips into a smile and takes the opportunity to kiss him again and it’s returned eagerly as he’s pulled flushed against the other’s body.

They might still have a lot to work out but in that moment, Doc is quite sure that they will. And in the end, all he needs to know.

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Yours, Always

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot and pairing are mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG overall. 

The fifth in a series based on letters between Doc Holliday and Bobo Del Rey depicting a shift in their relationship and some demons to exorcise.

Author’s note: Doc has to deal with the fallout of Robert’s letter in “With Deepest Regret…” and it’s not an easy place for him. But then nothing worth having seemed to come easy and for him; Robert was more than worth having

To be honest, I think that the next one will be the last in this particular series…We’ll see.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Yours, Always

His aim was never better was the remark after the second day he spent shooting things. He needed the focus, needed something to do with his hands that wasn’t wrapping them around a certain demon’s throat and shaking him until his brain rattled. He just isn’t sure it’s from anger at the past or the fact that the demon actually believed that he was just going to be a repeat of said past.

John Henry Holliday was beyond livid and all he wants is to drag back a dead man to scream at him a little bit before shooting him probably in the groin for good measure and then killing him again no matter what their previous partnership was like.

There was no goddamn reason for any of it.

So he vents in the familiar way he knows how, gunpowder and alcohol, until he can get control of himself again. Until he feels like he can focus on the issues with less anger and more neutrality. Until he stops wanting to curse a dead man more than he had been because he deserved it. And then have some words with himself about the absolute wrong way to handle situations because he was definitely culpable as well.

He had something more important to take care of, to protect. And that something was no doubt the wrong word or action away from pulling away for good. Of putting up walls too high and thick for anyone to scale.

How the hell did he manage to fix this when he was sure that the wrong move was going to get him banished to a hell he didn’t want to envision? He drags his hat off the temptation to throw it a strange novelty and brings a hand through his hair. He’d told Levi he’d handle it but damn had he not prepared himself for this.

How did anyone do that anyway?

All he knows is that he has to salvage it because he was finding out that to him, Robert was worth everything to him. Which meant that he was going to have to make him understand that fact above all else. He could forgive the well. That was not something he put on that man’s doorstep. Constance had been the one to push him in and she no doubt had gotten under Robert’s skin if he’d known he was there. She had to have. But he pushes that out of his mind because she wasn’t important enough to even think about at this point. Robert was. Robert who had been wronged so damn much and who lost so much more than he’d ever begin to imagine.

Robert who figured that at the end of it would lose Doc, too. Or never had him from the beginning.

He takes a slow, deep breath before slowly pulling his hat on. One more day. Then he was going to find the words to keep the most insufferable demon he’d ever met where he belonged; beside him.

*~*~*~*

Levi, to his credit, isn’t the least bit skittish when he approaches with an envelope. Bobo wants to say something spiteful but honestly, he was pretty sure he was one more show of temperament away from undoing years of having them respect him and instead see him as a bitter, malicious prick.

And for some reason, he doesn’t want that.

“Boss,” the male murmurs, extending his hand towards him.

Ringed fingers reach and take it and he hates that he waits until he’s gotten a hold of it to say, “I may be out of line but I honestly do not think you have much to fear from Doc Holliday.”

“I’m not afraid of him,” comes the sharp rebuke, “I fear absolutely no-fucking-one.”

“Right, of course not.” Amiable, he was being too amiable. Everyone else was avoiding him like they knew he was going to implode at some point and then there was this idiot…Bobo has no idea what he’d done to have to deal with him like this but it was frustrating. “I’ll leave you to it then, boss.”

“How magnanimous of you,” he retorts though the words lack their usual bite and warning as he turns for his trailer. Honestly, he figured that the other man would have taken the hint and not sent a correspondence. Hadn’t he given him enough reasons to not come back?

He studiously ignores the parts of him that were hopeful that maybe, just maybe…

But hope was for those not damned to a constant circle of hell and suffering wasn’t it? Or better men than Robert Svane could have ever hoped to be.

When he steps into his space, part of him wants to just toss the letter onto the writing desk and ignore it. Let it lay unread, the man’s response ignored. It’s what would be best, safest, the most intelligent way to handle this.

Pity that Robert Svane had never been any of those things in the correct amount and he clearly wasn’t starting now which is why he sinks onto the chair before opening the envelope wondering exactly what the male thought of his latest display. He’d asked for honesty and he’d gotten it. Too much honesty in one letter, Bobo is sure. Slowly, he unfolds the paper telling himself that he could get through this. He was fine losing Doc Holliday. Nothing to it because he was a demon.

It still takes him a few minutes to even look at the words, regardless.

My Robert,

I won’t lie and say that letter wasn’t painful because that would be an insult to us both. And clearly there is enough ill-will betwixt us to sully it further.

But I did ask for it, and I’m grateful that you answered. I’m grateful because now I have the knowledge of those before me who were unworthy to ever consider you a friend let alone anything close to a partner.

Even I wasn’t worthy then.

But I am now.

I want, desperately, to apologize for the less than appropriate actions of a drunkard too much of a fool to remember to be a gentleman, but I fear it rings hollow when I do not remember such an altercation. And somehow that is worse.

But that particular individual is not who climbed out of that well and I will do everything in my power to prove that to you if you will let me.

A chance, a second chance is what I’m askin’ of you; to prove my heart and how I feel. I’m not the kind of man who only calls upon another when there is something I can gain from it. Not in this.

You are a worthy partner, confidant, lover, and even friend. You’re insufferably bossy and have the worst taste imaginable in fur coats but all of that is the best parts of the man I want to see myself with at the end of all things. The man who can throw an entire trailer no doubt but writes with a quill with all the tenderness that takes. The same man who walks into a room like he belongs and yet seems to think he never will.

I want the sarcastic, sharp-tongued man who can also be soft and compassionate when the mood takes him. The man with the eyes that can go cloudy like a storm, icy like the snow, and molten on a whim as well. I want everything you are or ever will be. I want to be the one person who gets to see the good, the bad, and the ugly and at the end of the day is able to say, “He’s mine and I could not be more blessed”.

I have told you over and over, Robert Svane, that you are mine, that I am all in, and that there isn’t something that changes that. And I mean it.

So, I guess what I’m askin’ is…will you still have me?

                                                                                                                                                                Yours, Always and Absolutely,

                                                                                John Henry Holliday

Fingers dig into the wooden desktop as he puts the letter facedown on the table; something bubbling just below the surface hot and uncomfortable like the burn at the corners of his eyes. “J-John Henry,” comes the choked words, “Dammit all, Henry, why are you like this?!”

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

With Deepest Regret...

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot is mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG overall

The Fourth  a series based on letters between Doc Holliday and Bobo Del Rey depicting a shift in their relationship and some demons to exorcise.

Author’s Note: The next in the series after “Declaration of Intent” grants a response and a look into Robert’s past. I play with canon and history for my own needs (you’ll see when you read it).

This is all hurt so don’t expect much but Robert!Whump.

*~*~*~*

With Deepest Regret…

He was sure he’d been up entirely too long trying to write this but honestly, it was more than time wasn’t it? It was more than time he let go or at the very least was honest with the man who was clearly trying. The problem was that he was too scared to think about what he was trying to do because when it came to intent; Robert had never had much in the way of luck in it being good for him in the end. He presses his palm against his hand to stifle the snarl or scream or, god forbid, sob trying to work itself out of his throat as he drags the pen across the parchment. Everything about this hurt and he wasn’t sure it was going to be worth it in the end.

But he does it before telling himself that this was the last time anyone made him feel like this. Ever. It was too dangerous and he lost too much of himself. Robert Svane had clearly never learned from the past had he?

A few more lines, a few more open, gaping wounds and he signs before sealing it. He shoves it across the desk before pressing his face into the crook of his arm wondering if he was crying for the past or the future he didn’t think he was ever going to have the way he wanted.

*~*~*~*

He knew something was up when it’s Levi who comes to the bar. Doc had been sure this was going to be difficult but there is something about the wary, cautious way the Revenant approaches him that has his heart sinking. “Boss wanted me to give this to you,” comes his quiet remark, “And to ask that if you would kindly make whatever it is you have to say quick because he does not, and I quote, want to be dicked around any longer for your sadistic pleasure, end quote.”

Doc’s eyes close a moment before he takes the envelope with a quiet, “I will handle this, Levi, thank you.”

“Please do. He’s been in a pretty awful mood this past week.”

Doc is pretty sure he knows why that is, too. “Will do. Just…be patient with him, okay?”

“Never anything but,” comes the murmur, “We do like him after all.”

He knew that, too.

Holding the letter, he crosses the bar deciding that it was going to be best to just go and get this over with. He needed to know exactly what the other had chosen as a reply to his inquiry. There was nothing he was going to deal with that was more important than this. He slips into his room and shuts the door before locking it and crosses to his bed before pulling the envelope open and removing the folded paper before straightening it.

My Dearest John Henry,

You know most men just put a gun to another man’s temple and pull the trigger don’t you? That would be cleaner than this. You say that you want to know but I do not believe that you quite understand the whole can of worms you will find here.

But you asked and since I simply have little by way of refusing you, here we are. With me in my trailer feeling way too much and none of it good. So I will tell you a story and you can infer from it what you would like. Maybe it’ll make things easier in the end for you to know this, maybe it won’t. Either way, have what you asked for.

Robert Svane was a quiet, timid mouse of a man who preferred numbers and words to people. People were violent and oft times just plain cruel for no reason. And forget being reasonable. Just forget that completely. So he made a life out of staying out of sight for the most part, keeping to his own business. It wasn’t safe to do anything else. Men like him tended to not…fair very well in that time as you probably know. Especially when they were a walking anxiety disorder like he was.

And then there was a robbery. And a freshly made Marshal. And all of the stupid that comes from ever being charmed by a handsome face. Robert Svane had the “pleasure” of meeting Wyatt Earp. And it went about as well as you imagine.

Of course Wyatt was nothing but a gentleman; doting, friendly, affectionate but only when it suited him and only in the manner that suited him. And we both know that he was a fickle-ever changing man with moods that were apt to go from warm to blustery in only a manner of seconds.

I won’t scandalize you with the sordid details but I know you can guess that we were intimate when it suited him to have a warm body. Robert never learned or accepted the truth at this point; that he was a person of convenience. He was only as good as the use Wyatt could get out of him and everything else was ignored at the best and insulted at the worst; his hobbies, dreams, wants for the future. Of course, Wyatt wasn’t the first to do this, mind you, but he was by far the only one who pretended that it was anything other than convenience.

He learned that hard truth in Purgatory after he had a hole through him and the coward fled without finishing the job with the goddamn demon. And even to the end, that stupid fool had actually thought that maybe, just maybe…But no, he needed to find you. Needed to set things right with you. And so Robert died alone in a goddamn church knowing he was destined for hell.

So maybe in the end, I deserved it for leaving you in that well, and make no mistake, that was me but you didn’t recognize my voice or probably remember our first meeting. I had a choice and I chose to be angry and petty. This is the kind of man you say you’re all in for.

Do remember that you asked for this.

I was still petty leaving you in that well when I came topside the first time. I remembered shortly that you were there. But I had no intention of dredging up a past I wished had died with me. So I intentionally kept from the well and let you stay there alone in the dark. I had a dark bit of satisfaction in the fact that you were stuck not knowing that Wyatt looked for you, that his final days were spent in desperation trying to make amends with the man he dearly loved.

Robert would have been appalled at this. Robert had the grace to be ashamed when he died of leaving you there but several days bleeding from a bull-wound puts things into perspective in a pretty awful way. I just can’t recall who I was most mad at in the end; myself, Wyatt, or the man who couldn’t even bother coming to help too into his cups.

You were a cruel drunk, John Henry. I found that out first hand when we met. You called me Spectacles the second time. Got belligerent and cruel. You were everything I hated about that time; overly masculine and easily riled. You thought so much of yourself or maybe so little with the amount you were drinking those days.

But I digress, I suppose. You wanted my scars and my wounds? You have them. I hope it was worth it. You should never have chosen someone like me. Ever. And in the end, I’m pretty sure you didn’t actually choose me.

No one ever chooses Robert Svane. Not really. Not without strings and too many hoops and not enough true emotion or desire. So do us both a favor and just stop. Whatever this is. Whatever game you are playing. I don’t deserve it again. I don’t want it again. Please, Henry. You owe me this much.

                                                                               With Nothing but Past Regrets,

                                                                               Robert Svane

[ofxwordsxandxletters]

Declaration of Intent

Series: Wynonna Earp

Disclaimer: The plot is mine and the characters are borrowed in this work of fan-made fiction off of which no money is made. 

Pairing: Hollirey

Rating: PG over-all. 

The third  a series based on letters between Doc Holliday and Bobo Del Rey depicting a shift in their relationship and some demons to exorcise.

Author’s Note This is set sometime after “In Regards.” Knowing that there is something he needs to get to the bottom of, Doc finally pens a letter he fears will undermine everything he’s tried to do to date. He just has to get Robert to open up to him. No matter what it costs them both.

*~*~*~*

Declaration of Intent

He isn’t sure exactly what possesses him to do this only that he knows he needs to. That they both need this. It’s in the way they’ve been dancing around specific topics and he knows that it can’t go on. It’s a few days of trying to put his words down on a page and trying to phrase all he needs to in order to get things out, in order for them both to get things out. He doesn’t like how many cigarillos he’s gone through or the bottles of whiskey it takes to actually finish this. His heart feels heavy no matter how much he needs this to be said to the other.

Slipping it under the trailer door, he can only hope that whatever happens next will be better than the fear coiling in his gut churning darkly. He presses his forehead lightly against the door though he knows the owner is out; it was why he’d chosen to do it this way. “Whatever you decide,” he says quietly, “Whatever you choose, Robert, I do love you dearly. Please, please don’t shut me out now.” Doc just isn’t sure how well he holds up against the ghosts of Robert’s past.

Heading back for Shorty’s, he can’t help shake the feeling that he might just be leaving the best parts of him there. But he’d said his piece, all his piece and it was up to whoever was watching over the two of them to help them both at this point.

*~*~*~*

Days like this, Bobo could do without and it had nothing to do with Revenants. Those issues were easy compared to the people he had to work with. Humans could be so stupid still. Rubbing his face, he heads for his trailer needing to just rest a bit and unwind. Of course the sight of a letter when he opens the door has him going still a moment before he’d crouch and pick it up. The heavy weight has him tensing a moment before sighing. “Of course,” he says to the empty trailer, “Of course I get this in addition to everything else. John Henry…” Something tightens in him because he has a feeling he knows what this is mostly because the man gave it to him without actually giving it to him. He sets it on his desk before forcing himself to go shower and unwind. It wasn’t like it was going to go anywhere.

Parts of him wishes it would actually do that so he doesn’t have to deal with what was going to happen when he got to it.

So he dawdles as long as his curiosity will be held back doing mundane things around the trailer before finally dropping into the chair by the small desk. He stares at the envelope a moment before sighing. “I suppose I should have known you were coming, right?” he asks before reaching and opening it, “Let’s get this over with then.”

My Robert,

It’s come to my attention that both of us are tiptoeing around things. And it’s not doing either of us any good. So I’m going to do this because honestly we both deserve some peace of mind. You know I would go to bat for you against a great many things, all the things were it in my power. So I’m asking you to help me out here and let me know what ghosts I need to help you exorcise.

Don’t roll your eyes at me because we both know there are some pretty awful skeletons haunting you. Me as well. We need them dealt with. We’re no good to each other while we don’t.

So stop running from me. Stop hiding from me. I’m not going to hurt you intentionally. I’m not going to pull away. And I am most assuredly not going to mock or belittle you for what your interests are.

And I know someone did all of the above because you get so standoffish whenever anything close to an interest is shown by you. It’s like you’re always waiting for disapproval. But I will never disapprove of you. Ever.

The fact that you will freely talk about your time in hell and what that was like but not your mortal life tells me that there is pain there the likes of which you do not want to recall and I am going to ask you to do so.

I want to know, I feel I need to know what it is you are holding back. What past indiscretions you faced no matter who from. I think by now I have the right to this. I have the right to be able to see the broken pieces that you think make you so unworthy, so unloveable so I can help you heal.

And I want that just like I want to love you, that won’t change, I promise. I’m not folding, I’m not surrendering. You just have to play your hand, darlin’. Let me see it. I don’t care how bad it ends up being. You and I can weather this storm, I know we can. Trust in me. That’s all I’m asking. Trust me to be able to carry the weight when you can’t.

Let me in, Robert. Let me see. Please.

                                                                                               Yours Affectionately,

                                                                                                John Henry Holliday

There is a quiet after he folds up the letter; the kind of quiet that warns of a coming storm. Blue eyes, more tumultuous gray close, a moment of tension falling hard, before reopening filled with an icy sort of chill as he reaches for his parchment and then his quill. “So be it, John Henry Holliday. So fucking be it.”