#WE fanfiction

[thewritingsloth-blog]

Wayhaught have some sexy times. 

[takadasaiko]

48 doc & bobo

FFN II AO3

Summary: Wynonna sends Doc and Bobo on recon together in hopes they might hash out some of their trust issues. Taken from the writing prompt #48: “I made a mistake.”

Trust (Fallen Series)

Wynonna was delusional. That was the only excuse as to why she thought sending them out to follow up on the potential lead together would do any good. Recon or not, Bobo Del Rey and Doc Holliday hated each other, and putting them together without a buffer between them was dangerous.

Holliday had been grumbling the whole way, a snide comment here and there dropped as they walked out towards an old mill where they were set to meet one of the Revenants that claimed to still be loyal to Bobo. Carl had said he had information on a stronghold Bulshar was putting together. Someone had slipped near him and he’d gone right to Bobo, he swore. He was one of the ones that Bobo was more hesitant to trust, but fear kept many of those in line. The threats he gave wouldn’t hold nearly as much weight if the other Revenants thought that those that followed the Heir were at odds with him though. It was that alliance that gave them enough hope to choose him over Clootie, and if Holliday kept at it even when they reached the mill, they were going to have trouble. Maybe not immediately, but it would sow seeds of doubt. None of them could afford that at this point.

A sharp, irritable breath left the Revenant leader as he turned, eyes flashing red briefly before regaining a little more control as he focused in on the gunslinger. “You have something you want to accuse me of, Holliday, spit it out. Otherwise shut your damn mouth and keep walking.”

John Henry came to a halt so he wouldn’t run directly into him and narrowed his eyes. “I did not think I was mincin’ words. I do not trust you, Bobo Del Rey. Wynonna thinks there’s somethin’ left in you that hasn’t been thoroughly and completely tainted, but I know better. If there was anything left once, it’s been burned right out of you. You betrayed Wyatt, you were ready to sell Waverly to the demon you say you’re willin’ to fight, and hell if you didn’t even ruin the woman you profess to love to the point that she met her own end. You say you want to help us win this war, help Wynonna? You are incapable of helping the Earps. You’ve proven that much.”

There was a long pause as the late Wyatt Earp’s two friends stared at each other. Bobo’s jaw set as he watched the other man down, his teeth clicking lightly together, and he struggled to keep control. He didn’t give a damn that Holliday couldn’t follow a long game without mistaking it for betrayal and he was well aware the damage he’d done to his angel’s trust in what happened with Bulshar while he’d been under the demon’s influence, but Willa…. That was low, even for Doc Holliday. He would have done anything, would have given anything to save her, and the understanding that he’d failed her in that ate at him in a way even hell’s own fires couldn’t.

“I’m sure you can see why I’m a little hesitant to have you bein’ the one to watch my back on this,” the former dentist continued, “but it is what it is, and we’re already here so I will just say that if you betray me on this, Bobo -”

“What, Hank?” the Revenant cut him off, his voice low and dangers. “You’ll kill me?”

“I think you and I both know there are things worse than that. Your boy’s here.”

The feud would have to wait. Bobo forced himself under control, shoving down the impulse the reach forward and snap the gunslinger’s neck. He leaned forward, though, voice low so that there’d be no way the approaching Revenant could hear. “You have no right to mention her name to me. Ever.” He straightened, not giving John Henry any time to respond as he turned. “Carl.”

The scruffy looking Revenant looked more nervous than usual, his eyes darting around like he was waiting for someone to jump out of the bushes at him. “It’s just up ahead, Boss. Just like I said. I just came from it and the whole thing’s abandoned, but they’ve started storing stuff there.”

“And why wouldn’t a stronghold be guarded?” Bobo asked, watching the younger Revenant’s expression tighten.

“He don’t think anybody knows about it, I guess. All I know is what they told me and there ain’t nobody there right now.”

“Then let’s go have a look, shall we?” He waited until he received a nervous nod of confirmation before he stepped forward. “Now,” he drawled, clasping one hand down on Carl’s shoulder, “I don’t have to tell you what happens if you screw us on this.”

“No, boss. ‘Course not.”

“Mm.” He tightened his grip. “I will personally track you down and haul your worthless ass over the line myself. How many days did Levi scream before he chewed his own foot off? You remember, Doc?” He glanced back to see the sharpshooter watching him with a stony expression that he must have meant to hide the discomfort over the subject. “No? Well, it was over a week. I hear you couldn’t even recognize him by the time the Heir found him and put him down. You betray us, and you won’t get that mercy, Carl. She won’t save you from me.”

Carl swallowed hard. “The info’s good, boss. I wouldn'ta brought it to you if it weren’t. Like I said, it’s just up at the old mill. Checked it myself before coming down to meet you.”

Bobo waited a long moment before finally releasing him. “Of course it is. Holliday?”

“After you,” John Henry answered, his hands already hovering close to his guns. Well, he might have been enough of an asshole to bring Willa into their squabble, but at least he wasn’t a complete idiot. Something about this didn’t set right, and it was something at least to know he wasn’t alone in sensing it.

Bobo watched their surroundings as they started towards the mill in question. It was old, abandoned, as so many things were in the space surrounding the town of Purgatory. Even as things changed, though, they never really did. People may have tried to leave them behind, but the cursed grounds of the Ghost River Triangle remained stubbornly the same and the old mill looked to be in decent enough shape for not having been used in so long.

There were signs of people traipsing through the main building that had been used for the mill. Footprints were left in the dust and equipment had been moved to make way. Bobo saw Holliday take a detour through a doorway to the right of the one they’d entered through. Let him search. Maybe if Bobo were lucky John Henry would get himself killed here. The thought immediately soured with the understanding that he’d likely be blamed for it and he focused on his surroundings. He’d used enough abandoned sites before to know what to look for in them, but nothing about this was adding up. People having been there didn’t equate them using it. Maybe Carl had… Where was Carl?

A low growl escaped him and Bobo looked around the room. The shifty little Revenant had slipped away. They needed to get out of there. Nothing good was going to come of this.

His boots sounded softly against the old wood floors as he followed after Holliday, finding the man crouched over a collection of crates, the one directly in front of him open. He moved like he’d heard Bobo approaching and the Revenant could see how he was watching him out of the corner of his eye now. “I do not profess to know a great deal about modern explosives, but this does look like it’d do a fair amount of damage. Ol’ Carl might have been onto somethin’ after all.”

Bobo stepped closer, peering into the crate. Inside were explosives, wired and blinking at them. He didn’t know much about about them either, but he knew lights blinking weren’t good. That coupled with Carl suddenly missing really could on mean one thing. “We just walked into a trap.”

Doc stood slowly, but as he did the lights began to blink faster. “Well damn.”

There was no way to tell how long they had, but Bobo moved back towards the front door to find it barred from the outside. He reached out with his powers, checking for any sign of metal in it that might be useful and finding none. The wood made it impossible for him to budge it with anything other than brute force, and even that seemed far fetched with the time they might or might not have.

“Back exit,” Holliday snapped from behind and he was already going for it across the stretch of the long building. Bobo took off after him, but he could already feel the shift in the air around them give the only warning they had.

Everything seemed to slow, yet it all happened at once, making it difficult to follow the actual order of events that took only seconds to unfold. There was a flash, a roar of an explosion as it ripped through the building. There was nothing he could do to shield himself from that and he felt shrapnel and pieces of wood from the flooring slicing through flesh as he was picked up and thrown forward, bouncing and rolling before he slammed into something solid that stopped him. Bobo struggled to hold onto consciousness. The initial blast wasn’t the only danger.

He fought through the ringing in his ears and the way shadows were already dancing across his vision, threatening to pull him under, and he could feel the dangerous shift in the building that was crumbling around them. Holliday was laid out just ahead of him, the pressure from the explosion knocking him for a loop and a beam above him gave way to come crashing down.

The mill was steel and concrete and wood. Bobo couldn’t do anything about the wood, but the metal he could control. He focused, feeling the burn of the brand on his back with the effort he was having to put into it to try to keep the entire roof above from caving in on them. He could slow it, even if he couldn’t stop it entirely. There was too much, even just focusing on the space between he and Wyatt’s best friend, and a sharp cry escaped him as it came crashing down.

Bobo wasn’t sure how much time had passed between the room coming down around them and his vision finally clearing a little. He coughed against the dust that was visible in the rays of late afternoon sun that were streaming into the half-destroyed mill. He shifted, debris all around him, but it looked like he’d managed to keep most of it from crushing him. He sat up slowly, a pained snarl leaving him as he did and he reached around for what might have been the source. It was difficult to say when his entire body hurt. His hand came back with dark brown blood on in and he shook his head, trying to clear it. He’d heal. He always healed, but the idiot he’d been stuck with for this failed attempt of an afternoon might not have been so lucky. Not anymore.

“Holliday? You alive?” Bobo called, his voice rough and he coughed as some of the dust worked its way down his throat along with the air he was trying to pull into his lungs.

There was a beat of silence that followed and the Revenant squinted, trying to get a better view without having to move again just yet. It was going to hurt like hell when he did and he much preferred getting his bearings first.

Finally, after a long moment, he heard a struggling cough and a curse. A slab of wood moved and he saw it shuffled off of John Henry Holliday as the gunslinger sat up, another string of frustrated profanities leaving his lips. Bobo waited, watching in silence as the newly-mortal man checked himself over, a look of pain and irritation clearly written across his features, and then examined their surroundings. Just to Doc’s left was a metal beam that had skewered the floor. “I’ll be damned,” he mumbled, blue eyes sweeping the area directly surrounding him. He’d been buried under some of the wooden structure, but nothing metal touched him. Those same blue eyes turned on Bobo. “Did you…?”

Bobo snorted, determination driving him to his feet even against the pain that threatened to take him back down. He didn’t even want to take inventory right then. He just wanted to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. “They’ll come back to see if anyone survived, and I ain’t carrying you out of here.”

Doc seemed to catch the hint and grit his teeth as he stood, favouriting his left leg but managing to put enough weight on it to walk a few steps towards the door. He paused and Bobo hated to think he was going to have to help him in their escape too. He had reached and surpassed his limit of helping Doc Holliday that day. He opened his mouth to hurry him along, but John Henry loosed a long breath in the form of a sigh. “I may have made a mistake.”

The Revenant stared for a long moment. “Come again.”

“I ain’t sayin’ it twice,” Holliday grumbled.

“Care to expand?”

“Nope.”

“Just going to leave it open then?”

Doc shot him a glare and Bobo’s lips quirked upward despite himself. It was far too easy to rile that man. How did Wyatt ever get anything done with him?

“You could have shielded just yourself. I’m not fool enough to trust you entirely, but… I’m man enough to admit when I was wrong.” There was a pause as Bobo stared at him and finally Hank shook his head, his voice just a little lighter as he spoke and he dusted off his hat before motioning at him with it. “But if you repeat it to a soul, I’ll deny it to my dyin’ day.”

“Well, that would require me to admit I saved your sorry ass,” Bobo said as he snatched the hat away from him on impulse, revelling in the reaction it brought.

“Wouldn’t want to ruin your long-earned reputation,” Doc growled back, reaching for it and missing.

Bobo tossed it back at him as he started by, his movements slow but steady as he moved towards the hole blown open in the side of the building. It hadn’t been an apology for bringing Willa into the conversation, but the words had been an acknowledgement that might just let them move forward without trying to kill each other. They were never going to be friends - even Wyatt must have known that when he’d sent Robert to the drunken gunslinger to enlist his help - but they could be allies. They needed to be if they were going to defeat Bulshar, and they would defeat him. They’d all come too far not to.

Notes: Wow. This one was… difficult to write. Do you know how hard it is to get either of them to be nice to each other? It was like pulling teeth to get Bobo to save Doc and Doc to come even close to apologizing.

Them snarking back and forth, grumbling at each other, and occasionally coming to blows is something I’m looking forward to in S3.

[takadasaiko]

The Fallen Series: A Night Out

FFN I AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Bobo has never been a fan of the Poker Spectacular in Purgatory, but this year the masked party being thrown for the players participating presents a unique opportunity for Willa to have a night out.

A Night Out

He still wasn't sure what idiot had decided to host a yearly, high-stakes, cash-only poker game in a town full of immortal outlaws, many of which had been thieves of various sorts in their own time. The Poker Spectacular had been a source of irritation for him for years now. Even after he found a way to turn it around so that it at least made him some money, Bobo found himself busier than usual making sure that there wasn't open slaughter in the streets. That never did anyone any good, no matter how strong the bloodlust born of multiple trips to hell was in some of the Revenants that followed him.

This year was especially vexing with Cryderman harassing him to make an appearance at at the party being thrown. The players wanted to mingle with investors. All investors. Because Bobo didn't have anything better to do with his time than pander to a collection of pompous assholes, but they were insistent, and therefore his pet judge was insistent. It was a painful truth that even Bobo Del Rey had to give to get every once and awhile.

There was one silver lining to the whole situation and that was that the Poker Spectacular was landing close enough to Halloween this year that it had been turned into a masked party and that gave him the unique opportunity to bring the one person he wanted to spend the evening with. It was still a risk, but the smile she had given him when he'd brought it up had made it worth it.

They'd had to come in separately, but he'd arranged it all to keep her as safe as he could. He hated leaving her, but Willa was taking it in stride. She saw it as an adventure with a romantic rendezvous at the end of it, like one of her books. He was just glad that this crowd wouldn't even know the name Willa Earp, much less recognize her.

The large room in the Wainwright Hotel was buzzing and Bobo hated it. Cryderman caught him, acting as if it had been Bobo's idea to come and reminding him yet again that these men expected a certain level of class in this place and on and on. It was becoming harder each year to deal with this idiot. At some point he made an offhandedly comment on any of the ladies from the trailer park that Bobo might have brought along that night. Well, he did have a reputation. Some of it was earned and some he just let people believe what they wanted to.

Finally he broke away and started his search as subtly as he could, sticking to the outskirts of the party. Men and women laughed and drank and danced, already a little inebriated, and all wearing masks, making finding one woman in a black dress difficult.

Then he spotted her. She was striking, standing off towards the side of the room with a glass of champagne and a fake smile as one of the players in town for the game chatted her up. She was watching him carefully, a hint of caution just beneath the fake cheer, as if she were ready to break his nose at the first wrong move. If she did, he'd never know what hit him.

A pair of pale green eyes flickered his direction and her smile turned a little more real. The man that looked to have been trying to ask her for a dance followed her gaze after a beat and as Bobo moved a little closer he heard him mumble a grousing slur against all locals as he skulked away. It didn't matter. None of them mattered. She was beautiful and Willa was the only person he could see in that moment.

"I'm not sure I was aware you owned a suit," she said by way of greeting, her gaze running up and down the three piece black suit he had gotten his hands on. "Much less one without fur on it."

He smirked a little at her, pulling her hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. His gaze flickered up. "We agreed not to draw too much attention."

"Robert, you always draw attention," she murmured, her tone suggestive and he finally straightened, his thumb still ghosting over her knuckles and she closed her grip loosely around his fingers to hold him there. Those eyes of hers were mesmerizing, even half hidden behind the mask. He might have gotten lost in them if she hadn't moved, reaching up so that her hand pressed against the back of his neck and guided him in. He melted into the kiss, the room around them inconsequential as her other hand rested on his side and his moved to the side of her face, fingers tangled in her dark blonde hair.

"I'm liking this whole getting out thing," she murmured a little breathlessly. "We should do it more often."

"When we're free of this place," he promised, his voice rough as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"We're close, Robert."

He murmured a soft sound of agreement.

"You know, that guy that was over here was trying to get me to dance with him."

"Was he?"

She hummed softly, catching his eyes again. "I told him someone else had already asked."

Her gaze was expectant and he lifted one off-colour eyebrow. "I wouldn't want to keep you," he teased and she swatted at him playfully.

"Dance with me."

His smile lingered and he glanced out to the crowd of visitors to their cursed little town. A few locals mingled as well, but the crowd had reached that happy state of intoxication at this point that meant they wouldn't notice anything that wasn't right in front of them. They were there, and joining in actually made them less conspicuous than lingering in the corner, but it had been years since he'd danced with anyone. He wasn't sure he even remembered how.

"I'll be damned, Del Rey. You did manage to class it up some."

Bobo felt his irritation spike at the sound of Judge Cryderman's voice. The last thing he needed was him sniffing around and wanting to chat with Willa.

The judge was leering at the young woman, not even bothering to hide it. She stood still, watching him with a stony expression, but she wasn't afraid. Not his Willa. She might not have a lot of experience with the outside world, but that didn't mean she was incapable of handling herself, even now.

"You local, sweetheart?" Cryderman asked and Bobo growled lowly, managing to pull the attention to him instead of her.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?"

Bobo's tone shook the judge and he shrank back a little. Good. It was time he remembered his place. He forgot it far too often. He mumbled some excuse and some offhandedly comment about her needing to charge him more and the Revenant glared after him, keeping his more violent tendencies carefully in check.

"What did that mean?" Willa asked, her expression curious.

"He thought you were a whore," Bobo grumbled irritably.

The woman he loved was quiet for just a beat before he felt her gaze on him. "Do you tend to bring whores to these events?"

Well that was a loaded question if he had ever heard one. "I don't usually come to these events," he answered roughly and pushed a breath out through his nose, his mind made up. He extended a hand and she stared at it like she wasn't sure what he was asking. "Do you still want to dance?"

She didn't smile for him, but she took the offered hand and he pulled her out onto the dance floor. Willa leaned against him, her arms around his middle and her cheek pressed against his shoulder so she didn't have to look at him while they swayed slowly. He could almost feel her sorting slowly through what had just happened and the possible meanings behind it. There was so much of his life she didn't see and even though she saw a kinder side of him than most, she knew what he was. It wouldn't be a far jump for her to make, and that seemed to hurt her to think he might be sharing his bed with anyone else.

Bobo pulled her a little closer, leaning in so that he was speaking directly into her ear. "You're the only person I love. The only one I'm with," he promised softly. "As long as you'll have me."

Her grip tightened on him. "Swans mate for life," she murmured, pulling a smile from him.

"Yeah."

"Thank you, Robert."

"For what?"

She nuzzled in as they swayed, a sigh escaping her. "This."

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't give her everything she deserved in this life. Not yet. Soon though. When she turned twenty-seven they could walk across the line together and break the curse. They could wander far and wide and they could grow old together. He could prove to just how much he loved her. Soon.

Until then, he would do the best he could with what they had.

Notes: There's something in the way that Constance asks Willa if she even knows what freedom means right before she wipes her memories... I don't think she had to stay at that point. I think she was choosing to. I really do want to believe that there was a time when she loved him as much as he loves her. That they were each other's hope in their dark little world.

[takadasaiko]

The Fallen Series: What is Real and What Ain’t

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Future fic. After Bobo joins the fight against Clootie a spell is cast over Purgatory that forces a person to face their worst fears. 

What is Real and What Ain't

The spell had washed over them, leaving a chill in the air that anyone inclined couldn't ignore. It crept in and around and over, the Earp Curse leaving the area open for it. If it was Bulshar himself that had cast it or he'd found another witch or demon to do his bidding, they wouldn't know until they got to the bottom of it, but from what they'd seen so far, Bobo had a pretty good idea what the spell was, even if not who was directly responsible.

The town was silent, like everyone had gone to hide in their own homes. Good. Let them stay there. It would keep them out of the way. They all knew how Purgatory reacted when terrified, and that seemed to be exactly what this curse did: creep into a person's mind, find what terrified them the most, and bring it forward. The Earps sisters' pet scientist was still in shock from what he had seen. What they'd all seen. That was the worst part of the visions: your deepest fear was played out for anyone around to see it too, putting everything out on the table and laid bare. That was enough to make Bobo want to end this as soon as possible. Long before the spell got to him and put everything he was afraid of on display. There was certainly a list to choose from.

"Whole town's shut in," Doc Holliday announced what they had already suspected. "Not a soul to be seen."

Jeremy cleared his threat, visibly trying to bring himself back around. "So, uh, how do we break this?"

"We find the asshole that cast it and I shoot him in the face," Wynonna said as she twirled Peacemaker. Her eyes shifted over to Bobo. "Any of your people have this kind of ability?"

"No," he answered tightly. Had the air gotten chillier? It felt like it had. That might mean that the person responsible for the spell was closer. A few fears had crept to the surface of his mind, ones that he didn't want to see played out. Waverly dead. Himself back under Bulshar's control. Staring down the barrel of Peacemaker at the end of this, even after he'd chosen to help them….

"Robert."

His name sliced through the still air and drew his attention. He knew that voice. It had been so many years, but he would never forget it. He couldn't. Blue eyes caught sight of the source of the vocalization and another chill swept through him. Not this. He hadn't even been willing to entertain this one.

"Bobo?" Wynonna called his name out, but he couldn't look away. "Who is that?"

"Wyatt," Holliday breathed. It would have been nice it it had been his fear, but Bobo knew it wasn't. It hadn't been the gunslinger's name he'd called.

A hush fell over them as Wyatt Earp approached, looking just like he had the last time Bobo had seen him. His eyes were fixed on the Revenant leader like they were the only two on the street and he couldn't break away. This wasn't real. Wyatt was dead and in the ground. This wasn't real.

Wyatt's gaze swept him up and down, taking in the changes in the man he'd once called friend. Bobo knew them all well enough, and even he knew that it was more than the style of clothing and hair. It was a change in his very being, and Wyatt could see that. He could tell in the way his eyes narrowed, creases appearing at the corners there and between his brows. The silence from him was painful as he studied Bobo, and somehow the Revenant could felt like he was looking straight into whatever tattered pieces remained of his soul. "Wyatt," he managed, the name breaking as it left his lips. He wasn't real. He had to remember that. This wasn't really him, but damn did it look like him. Sound like him.

"Robert, why? Why would you become this?"

"Bobo," Wynonna called from behind him, but her steps were halted.

"He's gotta face it on his own, Darlin'. We all do."

Bobo straightened, pushing back the hurt that Wyatt's expression stirred. "You know damn well why," he growled, his vision tinting red as he felt the hurt bend to anger. "Real or not, you don't get to pass judgement on me, Wyatt. Not when you've been dead and in the ground nearly ninety years and I've been stuck here."

"And what have you done with it, Robert?"

Real or not, it didn't matter. This felt real. He had thought about what he would say to Wyatt if he could have had the chance. Sometimes he imagined his old friend appearing, as broken as Bobo felt, and an apology on his lips as he pulled him in, embracing him and begging forgiveness for all the hell Robert had been through. For him. All for him. Sometimes Bobo forgave him, but on his darker nights as his imagination played the scenario through, he made Wyatt hurt just a little longer. Bobo had. He'd suffered through it all. Now, as he saw that stony expression on the other man's face, that same anger boiled. "Fought the damned war you started," he snarled, straightening a little and stepping forward, motioning as he spoke. "I took the bullet to take Clootie down. I rallied to make sure he stayed in the ground while you rode off. I fought your war, Wyatt."

Wyatt didn't shrink back. He didn't apologize. There was no sympathy in his eyes or in his tone. "And who are you fighting for now, Robert? Leading the very devils I had to put down, standing by as my son and his son and his were murdered. You think you saved Willa? You damned her as surely as you are."

The words cut and Bobo felt himself falter, a sharp breath escaping him and his jaw snapped closed, teeth clicking together. "I did the best I could," he forced out, feeling the anger being overpowered by a need for Wyatt to understand. He'd fought for him. He'd died for him, and when he'd woken up to find himself cursed and amongst his enemies he had dug in and beat back the urge the curse forced on him. He had done what he had to to rise up and keep things as under control as much as possible, making sure that the Revenants didn't run wild and run Purgatory completely into the ground. He'd remained as loyal as he knew how. And Willa…. nothing hurt more than what had happened to Willa. "I did the best I could with what I was given. You weren't here. I'm only one man," he snarled, his voice more desperate than he cared to admit.

"Not even that. You're a demon. You're everything we were fighting against." Wyatt shook his head, disgust written across his features as he turned. "You just weren't cut out for this. Not strong enough. Doc woulda been."

Bobo felt like he'd been dealt a physical blow. "Wyatt." The name escaped him, pained at the expression his old friend had worn and he reached out, trying to grab at the other man's wrist. Real or not didn't matter anymore. The pain was real, and that was enough.

He didn't stop though and Bobo stumbled forward. He was leaving. He was leaving him all over again. "Wyatt!"

A hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping the forward motion. "It ain't him."

Bobo turned, finding Holliday of all people standing there and he snarled lowly at the man he hated. It didn't phase him, though. Instead he was looking at him with…. understanding? It was a strange expression for John Henry to cast in his direction and Bobo looked away, watching Wyatt's retreating from. "I can still reach him," he mumbled, half to Doc and half to himself. "I can make him see-"

"That ain't Wyatt," Holliday repeated. "This thing… it wants to lead us away. You follow it, and you're done."

"How would you know?" he growled.

"Because I saw him too. When I was looking 'round town. I saw him and he told me he wished I'd stayed in that well. That ain't Wyatt."

Bobo blinked hard, realizing only then that angry tears were starting to cloud his vision. He heard what the other man was saying. He even understood it on a level, but so much of him just needed to make Wyatt see. "I just need him to-"

"He can't. He's gone. He's been gone and we're here. We gotta live with that."

It wasn't comforting. Holliday likely didn't mean for it to be, but it shook him fully back to reality. He looked back to see only an empty street where he had thought he'd seen Wyatt just moments before.

Bobo closed his eyes for a moment, pulling in a steadying breath, and when he opened them again he found several sets of eyes on him including Waverly Earp watching him and she tried for a reassuring smile. His gaze swept over to her sister who squared her shoulders, her chin tilted up. "You with us?" she asked, Peacemaker in her hand, and in that moment she'd never looked more like Wyatt. The real Wyatt, not the one that lingered in Bobo's darkest fears.

"Yeah," he huffed out and she nodded, turning on her heel to continue her march towards the source of the spell, the others falling into step. Wyatt might have left them to clean up the mess, but if he were to place his bet, Bobo was more certain every day that Wynonna would be the one to finish what her great great granddaddy started.

Notes: I've been wanting to write on something that took a look at Bobo's thoughts about Wyatt for a while now, and a conversation brought this around. Brownie points if you can name the quote the one-shot's named after ;)

As always, I'd love to know what you think!

[takadasaiko]

The Fallen Series: Costumes and Promises

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Some promises last.

Costumes and Promises

She wanted to show him her Halloween costume. That's what she had told him the day before. She wanted to make sure it was perfect. Her class was having a competition and she was going to win. She wasn't there yet, and he wondered if something had distracted her.

Bobo lingered by the treeline, lit cigarette between his fingers, as he waited for his little angel to show. He brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, feeling it rush down his throats and into his lungs, the nicotine released into his system. He closed his eyes, doing his best to relax as he released it. Things had been hectic lately. Two of his boys had had a rather nasty run in with the Order, as they liked to call themselves. They typically stayed away from Revenants and focused on other demonic presences in the Triangle, but every now and again they got an itch and stepped in. Lately they seemed to be testing out a new theory to see if Peacemaker was truly the only thing that could put them down. One of the Revenants that they'd caught had gotten away mostly intact, but Bobo didn't envy him the experience. The Revenant leader grimaced a bit at the memory of his own run-in with a particularly ambitious and short-sighted generation of the Order.

"Those are bad for you."

He looked up at the sound of the young voice and he wasn't quite sure how she had managed to sneak up on him. Bobo took one last drag from his cigarette before standing from where he was crouched down, dropping it to the ground to crush it under his heavy boot. "They won't hurt me. Promise," he said with a wink that made her giggle.

"Daddy smokes too. When he thinks we're not watching."

But she was always watching. That much was evident by her getup. The youngest Earp sister was dressed in jeans that were tucked into her boots, a plaid shirt much like the ones her daddy wore when he wasn't on duty as sheriff. She wore a hat that must have belonged to one of her sisters. It was too big for her, too small for Ward.

She was grinning now as she realized he was looking over her outfit. "You like my Halloween costume? Look. It's Wyatt Earp's real badge." She thumbed at a metal badge Bobo knew well that was pinned to her shirt.

"You going as a sheriff?" he guessed.

"No, silly. I'm going as the Earp Heir!" Waverly looked very proud of herself as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest and grinning. "I guess it's hard to tell with just the badge. I wanted to borrow Peacemaker, but Daddy carries it. He'd have noticed, so I had to use a toy." She pulled the little plastic gun from its plastic holster. "It's not long enough though, so you gotta use your imagination. See?" She pointed it out at the field, motioning like she was shooting at something. "You wanna play? The Heir has to hunt down all the Revenants - those are like these demon things. Daddy says that their eyes glow red and they're all really, really bad - and send them back to hell! You gotta shoot 'em right between the eyes." She made shooting sounds at the field as if she were aiming at some unseen Revenant. "That ends the curse. I can't do it for real because Willa's gonna be the Heir after Daddy, but we can pretend. You can help me end the curse, Bobo! Please?" She turned, looking at him. "Bobo?"

He was staring, he realized, the reality of their situation become so much more real as he listened to her talk. It was easy to forget everything when he was out here with her. Demons and Heirs and the curse were pushed back, his angel capturing his focus. The idea that she wanted the wield Peacemaker and put every last Revenant down hurt more than he thought it could.

"Bobo?" she asked again and tugged on his arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he breathed out. He squatted down on his heels and looked up at that innocent little face. Angels and demons were on opposite sides. The truth of that hurt worse than a physical blow.

"Did the cigarette make you sick? Wynonna and Willa snuck one from Daddy one time and they were so sick. Are you sick?"

He did feel ill. His stomach was churning and his chest was tight. It was bizarre. "Maybe that's it," he managed, looking for anything other than the truth that there would be a day - maybe sooner rather than later - when they would be enemies. She might never forgive him for these innocent days. The monster that pretended to be her friend. What if that's how she saw it? What if she thought he was using her? She wouldn't know - Ward certainly wouldn't explain it to her - why he had chosen to spend afternoons with the youngest Earp. He was a Revenant. Everything action would be seen through that darkness someday.

Waverly dropped her toy gun and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry," she said sweetly into the furs and he reached up, pulling her closer.

"Hey," he rasped, "I'm alright. Don't worry about me."

"You're my best friend. I don't want you to be sick or sad."

A rough chuckle left him. Sad. He was clever, wasn't she? There was no lying to her.

Waverly gave a little sigh as she settled in. "Bobo?"

"Yeah, Angel?"

"You think maybe I can end the curse and make everyone happy?"

He pulled in a deep breath, an image playing across his mind of Peacemaker pressed against his own forehead. If he were the last thing between her family and the end of the curse, he wondered if he still had it in himself to sacrifice like that. He had once, when he thought it would buy Wyatt's freedom, but even that hadn't worked out as planned. No, dying wasn't the answer. You couldn't influence the outcome at all if you were dead. There was always another way. He wouldn't stop looking.

"I think you're smart enough to figure anything you want out, Angel. Guns ain't the only weapon in the world."

"Yeah. I don't have to have Peacemaker to help," she agreed. "Bobo?"

"Hmm?"

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah," he lied and gave her a quick squeeze. He just needed to focus on the here and now. The future would be there soon enough with all of its troubles. All he knew for sure was the promise he'd made to protect his angel was the one that mattered more than anything else in the world.

It had been a long time since he had thought about that day, but as he lingered at the fence line waiting for the Heir to show Bobo found his mind wandering to it. She'd been all smiles and innocence in those days, and she hadn't had any idea what he really was. She had cared about him, his little angel. Now, just as he had thought might happen, she couldn't see past the demon. Not that he really should blame her after his bout with Bulshar. Even the thought of the demon's name sent chills up his spine and he focused on keeping the voice out of his head.

Well, it looked like Wynonna was going to take her sweet time. It wasn't like he could just walk up to the house to see what was keeping her, so here he was. Waiting. Bobo dug into his pocket and pulled a cigarette and lighter out.

"Those things are bad for you, you know."

He turned, finding a familiar face behind him. Waverly stood several feet back on the Earp side of the fence. She wasn't wearing her sister's cowgirl hat today or Wyatt's badge and, thankfully, she didn't seem to be there to hunt him down. Granted, she didn't look particularly happy either.

Bobo snapped the zippo lighter shut and tucked the single cigarette back away in its holder, tilting his head just a little. "I was expecting your sister."

"Wynonna's tied up just a little longer. I thought we could…. talk."

He quirked an eyebrow at that and watched as she moved over to the fenceline. She was wary, but not necessarily afraid. She certainly hadn't seemed afraid a handful of days earlier when she'd shoved the gun in his face after he'd bent over backwards to help them.

Several long moments passed with him watching her watching him and they were getting nowhere. "So, talk," he prompted.

Waverly huffed. "You were a lot nicer when I was a kid."

"You were a kid. Lots happened between then and now."

She shook her head, her hands resting on the top board of the fence. "I've remembered bits and pieces over the last couple of years. I convinced myself you were just a figment of a really active imagination." There was something in her eyes that was distant as she spoke. "I remember telling Gus about you once and…. I told her you'd just stopped coming. I had no idea why. My daddy was dead. So was my big sister, the other one was being toted off the the mental hospital… and you'd just stopped coming. I was all alone and I guess making myself believe that you weren't real at all was easier." She sniffed hard, turning to look at him. "And then I realized who you were and I got it. It was never about being nice. It was about manipulating me."

"Is that what you think?"

"Am I wrong?"

"Would you believe it if you were?"

Waverly blinked hard and Bobo held her gaze. He watched her clever mind work, weighing what had happened, what seemed to have happened, and every possible outcome she could comprehend. As smart as she was, he'd wager she couldn't come up with half of them. He'd been playing at this game and every angle that he could to stay on top longer than she'd been alive by multiple generations, though explaining that outright went against everything he'd become.

Finally she loosed a breath, stepping forward so that she could lean against the fence with her chin set in the crook of her folded arms. "I don't know if we can trust you. If I can trust you."

Bobo leaned back against the post, watching her from the corner of his eye. "You told me once you wanted me to help you end this curse. Ending it's all I've wanted for over a century."

"And killing Bulshar will do that?"

He shuddered a little at the name. "It better."

"Well," Waverly said, her voice a little lighter as she climbed up the fence and took a seat on the top of it so that he had to look up at her, "if you promise not to screw us over, I'll…. try to keep an open mind. How's that sound?"

He found a hand extended towards him, reminiscent of the promises they made when she was young. "Deal," he told her gruffly, accepting her hand. It was bigger than he remembered and the shake was firmer than it had once been, but her lips curled up at the corners and the smile reaching her eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. This was a peace offering. One he knew he hadn't earned yet, but one she was offering him anyway. His angel might just forgive him yet, and for the first time in years he found himself hoping she would.

Notes: I almost left it at that first break, but it just left me too sad, especially with everything that happened in the S2 finale. I have a multi-chapter that I'm still working out in my head, but the second half of this little story would probably fit into it, regardless of the direction I end up going with it. I just really, really hope that Bobo and Waverly get some time next season to work together. It was so fantastic during the AU episode and to see them swing right back around to essentially being on opposite sides made my heart hurt. There was a little wink there right before he stole her gun that makes me think he was trying to tell her he wasn't going to hurt her, no matter what he was saying or how it looked. He knew from plenty of experience that those Widows were dangerous and he was playing the game.

Hope you guys liked it! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts :D

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Bit by Bit

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Sometimes choosing to trust can shift a relationship in unforeseen ways.

Notes: Michael Eklund had a sort of impromptu Q&A on Twitter a couple of days ago, and I asked if he could see any fanfic about Bobo, what would he want to see. He said "Bobo and Willa: the treehouse years". While I've already written a couple that included Willa in the treehouse, this is the story that came up out of that tweet. No clue if he'll ever see it, but if he does, hopefully he'll like it.

Bit By Bit

It had been a learning curve for a thirteen year old girl to go from all that the 21st century had to offer to a treehouse in the middle of nowhere. It didn't have running water and it didn't have electricity. She hadn't known it was possible to live like that, but he'd taught her how.

In theory Willa had known that all Revenants were from a time long before what she was used to, but it was something else entirely seeing their leader explain how to work a kerosene lamp or set up a way for her to cook and stay warm with an old school stove that might as well have been from his time. He made sure she had everything she needed: clothing, food, books and drawing paper to keep her occupied. Even company when he had the time and she let him.

Bobo Del Rey was not what she had expected. She had seen him speaking with her daddy a few times and he had always been imposing. Dangerous. A demon. Here, though, he was reserved. A little snarky when she pushed him too far - usually when she threw things at him in a fit of frustration in the earlier days - and strangely respectful. The Revenants that had pulled her from her home had been anything but that, and they had made it very clear what they wanted to do to her. Bobo had been crass enough around them that the change as soon as he stowed her away had only added to the confusion of a teenage girl taken from everything she knew.

Slowly, though, bit by bit, she had come to accept that he wasn't a threat to her. Neither of them had made it easy. He didn't like to share and she didn't trust. It took longer than it should have to ask why he had tucked her away when she had heard him promise the others he'd kill her, and even longer to trust in the answer. Explanations came slowly, though, and those had turned into conversations. He had brought her paper and pencils when he had found out she liked to draw and she had taught herself to fold pieces into little origami animals. There was always a new book before one was finished and she found that he was surprisingly well read.

Everything was a contradiction, both of what she thought she knew about every Revenant in the Ghost River Triangle and what she was once certain was true about Bobo Del Rey, and eventually, with each new glimpse to who he was, she had come to care about him.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly when that had happened. Maybe somewhere during one of their long conversations about a book she was reading or the time that she'd gotten so sick in the cold winter months that she had woken to find herself buried under his coat and Bobo dozing in the chair next to her bed, keeping watch over her. Or maybe it was when he'd finally chosen to trust her with his most dangerous secret.

The evening had started with a strange whim to begin with. Willa wasn't a cook and she knew that, so what had possessed her to try her hand at putting together a few basics she had around the treehouse to make something akin to dinner was still beyond her. She hadn't been aware that she could burn rice until that day.

Willa had gotten things mostly under control by the time the knock came at the door and Bobo entered - thankfully - with what looked like a bag from Shorty's in his hands. "Please tell me you brought alcohol with that," she grumbled, still waving a bit of the smoke out the crack in her window. It was freezing outside, but better cold than suffocating.

Bobo quirked an off-coloured eyebrow at her and set dinner down on the small table and she spotted a liquor bottle in the bag. Willa moved over to the small stash of glasses she kept there and tossed him one, watching him catch it easily and they moved into a ritual that had taken hold at some point in the last ten years that this had been her home. They spoke about the town and how nothing ever really changed. The Revenants and the humans. It had been a long time now since she'd asked about her family. She'd never cared a lot for Waverly and Wynonna…. Wynonna had killed their father. Out of sight, out of mind. She had enough to deal with without focusing on that. And now she needed to put it back out of mind.

"You've never told me how you died," Willa interrupted the lulling silence, pouring herself another drink.

Bobo tilted his head. "I have not," he acknowledged noncommittally, the tone one Willa had come to know meant he had no intention to either, but she wasn't in a mood to let it rest.

"Why? Don't you trust me?"

He shifted at that, his expression guarded. "It's not a happy story."

"Neither is this, but it's the one we live. Daddy always said that Revenants were outlaws Wyatt Earp put down with Peacemaker, so what did you do to piss off my great great granddaddy? Tell me how a man like you became a demon."

She watched him carefully, taking in the small signs of stress in the way his lips twitched downward and how he wasn't quite looking her in the eye. Maybe the story was worse than she expected. "You know, after this long, whatever it is isn't going to scare me," she offered.

"Nothing to be scared of," he answered, his voice rough and deep. "I was a fool."

It was Willa's turn to frown and she reached for the bottle of whisky, topping off the glass in his hand and settling in to wait. She knew his tells and he knew hers, so he knew she wasn't letting this go. Her time in the treehouse had taught her patience if nothing else.

After a long moment he knocked back everything in the glass, poured again, and began to speak. His voice was even as he told her the story of a man by a name Willa actually recognized, but not as an outlaw. Robert Svane's name appeared in a set of letters penned by Wyatt Earp himself. The idea that the leader of the Revenants had been a close confidant and friend of Wyatt Earp's would have floored most people - she expected that it would have left her own daddy at a loss for words if he'd been alive to hear it - but for her it filled in the gaps. Watt had been his friend and he'd shot him, wrapped him up in this curse same as the Heirs. Bobo - Robert - was innocent and everything he was now was what this horrible curse had made him. He was a victim of it the same as her. Of all the reasons he'd given for saving her over the years - some she thought more honest than others - that was the one that felt the most true to her. They were kindred souls, both devastated and beaten down by something so far out of their control, so unfair, that it had nearly destroyed them.

But it hadn't. He had saved her. Despite everything, he had saved her.

He'd stopped talking now, and Willa felt the buzz of the liquor running through her system. She wasn't sure how long his story had taken, but the sun was long gone, leaving them only with the lights the stars and moon gave them.

Silence stretched between them and she reached out, her fingers touching the back of his hand and drawing his attention. "You're a good man, aren't you?"

He snorted at that. "Once, maybe, but not for a long time now."

"That's not your fault though."

"Don't make it any less true."

"This curse… twists things up," she said as she stood, reaching a hand out to touch the side of his face in a way she never had. It drew his eyes on her and she held his gaze. "Wyatt Earp screwed us both."

Willa wasn't sure if it was the trust he had given her or if it was the alcohol and the late night, but she leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips, her hand still lingering on his cheek.

He kissed her back, if only for half a moment before he stiffened and pulled away. "Willa," he managed, voice raspy and strained. "You're…"

Those clear blue eyes of his were focused on her and she saw a strange mix of emotions there, all of them conflicted. She pressed her forehead against his. "I'm not a child anymore, Robert. I haven't been for a long time, or hadn't you noticed?" He had. She could see it in his eyes that he had. "I want this. Don't you?"

There was a beat of pause in which she thought she may have misjudged something and Willa had no idea what would come next if she had. She started to step back, spin some lie to cover it, but he caught her hand before she could. He was on his feet his gaze holding her there as he brought a hand up to either side of her face and leaned in. Willa felt her eyes slip closed as he kissed her. Her hands shifted to rest on his sides, fingers gripping his t-shirt there to hold onto him. She had no idea where this would go or how a Revenant and an Earp could possibly make something work between them. All she knew was that they'd both suffered and they were both alone. They had been for too long, but here, in this moment with him, she didn't feel quite so hopeless. She felt alive.

[takadasaiko]

The Fallen Series: Mushy Cupcakes and Old Letters

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: No one seems to remember little Waverly Earps' birthday each year, so when she realizes that she's never celebrated Bobo's she decides to throw him a birthday party all by herself. Requested by an anon.

Mushy Cupcakes and Old Letters

She had told him to meet her in a different place that day, and who was he to deny his little angel something he could give? Her instructions had been left in the form of a map she had drawn herself that had been stuck between two crossed boards of the fence that marked the beginning of Earp land. It was done up in crayons and coloured pencils, but Bobo could make it out. Mostly. It wasn't like he didn't know every inch of Purgatory and the surrounding lands like the back of his hand at this point.

He found little Waverly Earp by a shallow stream, crouched by some rocks and setting something up. Her back was to him and she hadn't turned yet, so he made sure to put a little effort into ensuring his steps made enough noise to draw her attention.

The little girl turned as if on cue and her expression lit. "Bobo! You're early!"

"Should I come back?" he asked, catching a glimpse of what she was putting into place. It looked like little tea cups and saucers with… cakes? Maybe. There was definitely more icing than small cakes.

"It's okay," she told him and picked her way around a few rocks to grab him by one hand and pull him over. "Surprise! Happy birthday!"

Bobo stopped, tilting his head a little before he squatting down on his heels so that he was closer to her height. "It's not my birthday," he said after a long moment.

"But I don't know when it is," she told him, "and you haven't told me. What if I missed it? You'd think no one loved you."

She was watching him with those big eyes of hers and Bobo was struck, not for the first time, just how sweet and pure this little girl was. He found himself smiling very slightly, that odd sense of comfort that always crept up on him when he spent time with his little angel taking hold. "So you threw me a birthday party?"

"Yeah. I didn't know who your friends are, so it's just us. Is that okay?"

"That's perfect, Angel," he promised her and she beamed, pulling him back to his feet and the rest of the way to the little set up. She told him where to sit and he had a plate shoved in his hand almost immediately. "It's a little gooey," she warned him, her nose turned up.

"Are these left over from your birthday party?" he asked. It was just a couple days passed her sixth birthday. Maybe Ward had tried to bake, or one of the older girls.

"No, I made them myself in my Easy Bake Oven," she told him proudly, even though he had no idea what that meant. "Are they good?"

He took a bite and she hadn't been exaggerating. Definitely gooey.

Waverly giggled at the face he made and he was glad to see that it hadn't deterred her. She chattered away about the last few days, about going to school, and how a boy had been mean to her friend Chrissy on the playground but she had shown him. He listened to her go on and on, picking at the parts of the cupcake that had actually been baked through and finally dipping his pinky into the mush to try that as well out of curiosity.

"You still haven't told me about your birthday," he reminded her as she took a big scoop of the icing and shoved it in her mouth.

"Didn't have one."

His lips twitched downward. Ward had promised her a birthday party that would make up for missing last year's. Bobo didn't know a great deal about kids, but he learned quickly that they remembered promises made.

"Well," he drawled, "I brought you somethin' for it."

"A present?" the little girl asked, eyes lighting up at the prospect.

"Can't tell anyone."

"Nope! Promise! No one!"

He cracked a smile at the excitable look that had replaced the sad one and pulled an envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to her. "You said that you like history, right? That you're collecting things?" She had gone on and on a few weeks before about the history she was learning in school and how her family had made it into the history books. She had told him she was going to learn everything there was to know about the Earps, Purgatory, and everything connected to it. Now, though, as he handed the six-year-old her birthday present, Bobo had to wonder if he shouldn't have gotten her something else. Something more age-appropriate, even if he wasn't entirely sure what that would have been.

Waverly's eyes grew as she pulled a couple of old photos and an old letter out. "Wow! Are they really old?"

"Over a century. One hundred years," he specified. Well, she seemed excited at least.

"I know what a century is," Waverly told him proudly. "Are they famous people?"

"Not really. A few outlaws, mostly. Townsfolk."

"Where'd you get them?"

"I know a guy." And Levi knew better than to ask questions about what he wanted the photos for.

"What's the letter?"

That had been a little harder to part with, but if he were honest, he never should have kept it. It was a dangerous link. Even if Ward found her with it, it'd be safer than if one of the Revenants happened to stumble across it. "It's a letter written by Wyatt Earp. You said you wanted to know everything about him. Figured that'd be as good of a place to start as any."

"Wow!" Waverly breathed, suddenly holding the letter a little more carefully. "The Wyatt Earp?"

"The very same."

"How'dya get it?"

He smirked just a little. "I know a guy."

"You know a lot of guys."

"I do."

She stuck her nose close to the scrawling handwriting that Bobo had once known well. "Who's Robert?" she asked him, reading the name the letter was addressed to.

"A friend, I 'spose."

He watched as she nodded, her eyes scanning the old paper, and Bobo hoped that the small smear of very old blood wouldn't be recognizable to a six-year-old. "Oh! He's talking about Doc Holliday! I know who he is."

"Everybody knows who he is," Bobo grumbled and shook his head, hoping to distract her from what sounded like it was about to be a long info dump on everything she'd learned about one of the men he hated most in the world. Bobo didn't think he could take that that afternoon. "You like it?"

She set her new little treasures down carefully on a rock and stood so that she could wrap her arms around his neck, burying her nose in the fur collar of his coat. "I love it! Thank you thank you thank you!"

That drew a smile from him. "You'll keep 'em safe, right? Don't let your sisters tear it up."

"I promise I'll keep it safe." She stuck her little hand out and he chuckled as he shook it, the promise sealed between them before she sat back down to continue her exploration of the letter. They sat there together in silence, Bobo enjoying a few moments when he wasn't having to deal with the idiots he had to keep in line and Waverly going over her new presents. "These are a lot better than my mushy cupcakes," she told him after a few minutes.

"Nothing's better than your mushy cupcakes," he assured her.

"Bobo?"

"Yeah, Angel?" He looked down, finding her staring straight up at him from where she was leaned into his side.

"How old are you anyway? I didn't know how many candles to get, but I can know for next year."

"Sometimes you just stop counting," he murmured and she thought he was teasing her and giggled. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a hug. He wasn't sure how many more birthdays he'd get with her, but until Ward Earp found him out or Waverly started asking too many questions, he'd be there. Even when he couldn't be right there with her, he would always protect her. That was a promise he swore he'd stand by. His angel.

Notes: I now have a new head canon that Bobo helped Waverly start her collection of Purgatory history and I love this new head canon.

[takadasaiko]

The Fallen Series: To Hell and Back for Him

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Robert Svane rides to Purgatory after trying to convince Doc Holliday to help their friend take down the demon sheriff Clootie.

To Hell and Back For Him

He had ridden hard the whole way, the urgency of the situation weighing on him. Wyatt had asked him to bring Doc Holliday and he'd failed him. It wasn't like he could have forced Holliday to come. Robert had stayed in town for nearly three days trying to get a word in to him and wasting precious time doing so. The man was stubborn and drunk, never a good combination even for just a civil conversation, but for a fight? No. There had been no reason to waste another day trying to pry a more positive answer from the man. He'd already lost enough time and the situation in Purgatory was desperate from what his friend had said.

He found Wyatt at a saloon waiting for the padre that had initially contacted him about the issue with the sheriff. Robert moved to join him at the table and waved off the offer of a drink as he passed by the bar. Wyatt was bent over some notes of some sort, but looked up as he approached and his expression lightened just a little. "Robert, glad you made it," he greeted, reaching a hand out to him.

"Sorry it took so long," the other man answered and shook his hand before sitting with him. "Spoken to the padre yet?"

"He's on his way. I take it you couldn't find Doc?"

"Oh, I found him." Robert cleared his throat, finding Wyatt's gaze steadily on him, trying to gauge the reaction.

Finally Wyatt sighed. "He was too ill to come then."

"Or too drunk."

The lawman laughed, the sound surprising Robert a little. "That never stopped him before." His mirth faded as quickly as it'd come as he glanced towards the door where the priest was entering. He nodded to the bartender and stopped there just a moment before continuing over to the table. Wyatt tipped his hat. "Padre."

"Deputy Marshal."

"Robert just brought word from Doc that he won't be making it. I left him pretty sick, but it was worth a shot."

"You a gunslinger too, Robert?" the padre asked and Robert cracked a very small smile in response.

"Not like Wyatt, but I do know where the trigger is."

That pulled a chuckle from the old priest and he thanked the woman who delivered his drink over.

"Now, I understand that Sheriff Clootie has been a terror on this town," Wyatt prompted. "In your letter you called him-"

"A demon," the padre cut him off, his voice flat and serious. "And I meant it."

"Ain't no such thing as demons, Padre."

"There are, Marshal. Demons and angels are as real as you and me. Clootie's three wives are nearly as dangerous as he is, his favourite being the witch of the three, but the other two…." He shuddered and his gaze shifted from Wyatt over to Robert who was watching him carefully, keeping his own thoughts carefully concealed behind an even expression. He'd read the letters that had been written and he knew Wyatt's reservations. He shared many of them. Rarely did a person cry demon and it be true, but that didn't mean that they didn't exist. He was certain angels did.

Wyatt didn't look convinced. He shook his head and stood. "Well, demon or man, he's not above the law. It's time we met and settled this."

"No time like the present," the padre said as he took a long drink of his whisky.

It was like he knew what was about to happen, and as the doors to the saloon kicked open and a chill swept through the establishment Robert found himself wondering if he did. An unnatural sort of hush fell over the place and all eyes turned to the man that entered. He was tall and imposing, his sheriff's badge shined and prominent for all to see. His boots hit the wooden floor of the saloon hard, the sound echoing over the silence he brought with him. He was alone, but there didn't seem to be a person beyond their own table that didn't tremble at the sight of him.

"Padre," Sheriff Clootie called out, "I see you invited friends."

"Evenin'," Wyatt greeted, straightening at his place by the table. Robert and the padre remained in their seats, Robert watching the situation carefully. He might not be a gunslinger like Wyatt or Doc, but he would do whatever he needed to to help his friend. "I'm Deputy Marshal Wyatt Earp, US Marshals. There've been some-"

"Get." It was a single word, but as soon as it left the sheriff's lips every last person in the saloon - barkeeper included - ran over each other trying to leave. Robert watched them scurry out like rabbits running from a dog and he thought he saw the sheriff's eyes flash red momentarily, a strange sort of smile tilting his lips. "Now what were you saying, Marshal?"

It was an intimidation tactic, and one that didn't work on Wyatt. Doc Holliday had been right about one thing at the very least: Wyatt never appeared upset. That didn't mean that Robert didn't see the signs that the lawman knew that this wouldn't be easy. It was in the way his eyes narrowed as Clootie spoke and how his left hand brushed back his coat casually as if he were readying himself for the worst situation and giving himself easy access to Peacemaker there. Robert found himself joining Wyatt on his feet, ready for whatever would come next.

Or he thought he was.

Clootie's laugh echoed through the empty saloon, causing Wyatt to frown. "You're facing some serious charges, Sheriff. Most wouldn't find that funny."

"This is plenty funny," Clootie chuckled, still smirking. "I heard you were coming, Deputy Marshal, but I had expected a bit more of a fight. Instead of your usual crowd you show up with this pup at your feet, desperate for a little of the great Wyatt Earp's attention. You've never even killed a man, have you? What good do you think you're going to do against me?"

Robert saw it again, that flash of red, and this time the sheriff flicked his wrist. A gust of wind hit them so hard that it took them up and off their feet as if someone had grabbed them by the front of their lapels and sent them stumbling. Robert hit hard, crashing into and over a chair and he grimaced at the landing.

Wyatt was back on his feet quicker, gun drawn and shots fired, only clipping the man whose eyes were glowing dangerously as he moved at an unnatural speed. The sight was enough to cause Robert to freeze for just half a beat before he pulled his own weapon, but he didn't get a chance to fire before it was pulled from his hand and Clootie turned a terrible snarl in him.

There was no questioning it now. The evil was evident, painted across those dark red eyes and the unearthly powers that flowed from him. He extended his hand, fingers outstretched, and Robert was being dragged up. His feet dangled, toes barely touching the wood floor as an invisible hand wrapped around his throat, choking off his airway and he found there was no way to fight it. Nothing was there, yet it was.

"Robert!" Wyatt called out and he was being dragged forward until he was face to face with the demon.

"So the pet means something," Clootie murmured. "I do have to wonder what the infamous Wyatt Earp sees in you."

The grip had loosened enough that he could take shallow breaths and fighting was useless, so he leveled his best glare. "I've been told I have a quick wit," he managed and the demon chuckled.

"A wit won't shield you," he warned. "But a friend? A friend makes quite the shield. Gun down, Deputy Marshal. Humans really are such fragile creatures. I'd hate to break him." There was a sudden jolt of pain and Robert tried to swallow the cry that escaped him, his back arching at it tore through him. He remained suspended, Clootie spinning him around so that Wyatt could see the pain played out across his features.

He forced his blue eyes open, meeting Wyatt's gaze. There was disappointment there, an understanding that things were not turning out as expect and…. that they would have if it had been Doc Holliday at his side instead of Robert Svane. Robert was a fine, loyal friend, but he wasn't useful like this. He wasn't sure what had ever made him think that he could be. He had only gotten in the way.

"Alright," Wyatt said at last, lowering his weapon a little.

Blue eyes closed briefly as he heard Clootie make a triumphant sound behind him. This was bigger than him. Bigger than that moment. If they didn't do something here and now, more innocent people would die. He would not be the reason they were hurt. "Wyatt, take the shot."

"Robert…"

Clootie was laughing now, entertained by it. "It sounds brave when you know he won't."

Blue eyes snapped open again, catching Wyatt's gaze and holding it. Willing his friend to hear him, to do it. "Take it."

It all seemed to happen at once. The small nod, Wyatt raising his gun, and the shot going off. The bullet tore through Robert, into his left shoulder through his chest and out the back, and suddenly he was tumbling to the floor, the demon releasing him.

He laid there a long moment before the pain hit, and it hit hard. Robert gasped as he curled around himself as he tried to gain his bearings and think through the it. He felt hands on him and he started to fight until he heard Wyatt's calming tones. "Easy, friend. I've got you."

He looked up, finding Wyatt on the floor with him, easing him up just a little and he found the change in position helped lessen the pain just a little, making it easier to breathe. "Did you-?"

"We got him. It struck him in the heart. He's not long for this world."

Robert blinked hard, hearing Clootie cursing and hissing out some sort of threat he couldn't make out. He focused in on his friend. "Good."

"You're going to be just fine, Robert. Padre is fetching the physician and you'll be whole in no time."

His vision was blurring, but he could still see the hints of worry played out across his friend's face. "Wyatt?" The other man didn't answer, distracted by something, and Robert winced as a fresh wave of pain stole his breath from him. "I'm sorry. I meant to help you and I… got in the way."

That pulled him around just a little, at least enough to offer the injured man a thin smile. "Nonsense. What other friend do I have brave enough to do what you did? Thank you, Robert. I…. I'm going to make this right. Somehow, I'm going to make this right."

Robert loosed a long breath in the form of a sigh, desperately trying to focus on the words, but he was losing the fight with consciousness. Wyatt was there, though, and he wasn't angry with him. Somehow, he almost seemed proud of him, and that made it worth the pain.

Robert woke to voices. At first they sounded like they were down a long tunnel, distant and garbled, but as he broke the final layer of consciousness he finally made the padre that he and Wyatt had come to see. He shifted, grimacing hard at the painful reminder that he'd taken a bullet to the chest…. He wasn't sure how long ago.

"I wouldn't move too much," the padre said and Robert could smell the alcohol on his breath. Juan Carlos. He wasn't sure that he'd ever given him his name directly, but it had been in the letters that Wyatt had received. Father Juan Carlos.

"Wyatt," Robert choked the name out, his throat dry and painful.

Juan Carlos motioned for him to stay put for a moment before grabbing a glass with what looked like water in it from the bedside table. "Take it easy, Robert. You've been sleeping for a couple of days. Wyatt couldn't wait."

"What?"

"Told me to tell you that he'd gone looking for an answer he thought John Henry had. The doctor assured him that with rest and treatment you have a good chance of pulling through."

"Do I?"

"I imagine so. You seem like the stubborn sort."

"Padre, we need to go. They will find a way to bring him back if we don't seal him in the ground. We've waited too long."

Robert squinted at the new voice from the door, realizing for the first time that his glasses weren't perched on his nose, and the padre reached for those as well, fitting them there. A woman at the door came into focus. Blonde and beautiful, but there was something about her that didn't set well with him. Nothing about Purgatory set well with him anymore. The sooner he could get out of here, the better.

"You said we need three, and the town's torn up enough without finding someone to help with that."

"He can."

"The doctor said he needs rest."

"I'm right here," Robert snapped. "Don't talk around me like I'm not. What can I do?"

The woman stepped forward, her gaze studying him carefully. "You were with Wyatt Earp? Helped him to kill my husband?"

One of Clootie's wives. The witch, Robert thought. He set his jaw. "I did my part."

"Then do the next. Help us keep him in the ground."

Blue eyes shifted to look at the priest, the unasked question hanging in the air and Juan Carlos nodded. "We can't hold the other two without her help."

"It's in my best interest to make sure all three never come back here. Wyatt's bullet never should have been able to kill him, but I slipped him something that made him vulnerable. If he comes back, I'm a dead woman."

Robert nodded solemnly, shifting again until he was able to sit. It hurt like hell, but he thought that if he could get on his feet he'd be alright. "What is it you need me to do?"

"I need you to be bait," Constance Clootie said, her voice far sweeter than her words. "They'll smell the blood on you and they'll come. We'll be ready for them. Do this, help us secure them and my demon husband, and they won't be able to go after your dear friend Wyatt. He might even escape with his life."

"Robert," Juan Carlos warned, but he shook his head.

He'd told Doc Holliday that he'd be willing to ride to hell and back for Wyatt, and he would. He'd be willing to die for the man if need be, and right now, Wyatt needed him to make sure that he remained outside of the demon's grasp. "I'll rest when it's done."

Notes: I have such mixed feelings about Wyatt. I want to hope that there was more to him than fleeing the curse and then trying to track down Doc while Robert lay dying. Maybe he went looking for Doc because he'd known about the demon and Wyatt hoped he had an answer for him? One can hope. I also hope we get more information (and flashbacks!) in the third season. I'd love to see Wyatt and Robert flashbacks and get a better feel for that friendship.

Hope you guys enjoyed this one. It's a bit longer than usual.

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Free

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Bobo's boys uncover something dangerous during the dig for Constance and the Stone Witch finds a new way to force Bobo to continue looking for her sons.

Free

His patience was wearing thin. After over a decade of digging with nothing to show for it, it damn well better be. Constance's promises were ringing hollow more than ever as Bobo made his way out to the dig in the middle of the night. It was late, he was tired, and he was done. Done with her pretty words and hints at escape. The lead was a lie. That much he knew. That much he was sure of. There were other ways, and they were finally within sight. Continuing to follow the promises of a witch he should have put a bullet in a century ago was never going to end well. He never should have struck the deal with her.

Bobo pulled the bike around on the dark road, the dirt loose beneath the tires as he killed the engine on it and dismounted, eyes scanning the area. It was strange to remember that there was a day many years before when he couldn't see five feet in front of him without his spectacles perched on his nose. His eyes were sharp now, enhanced like the rest of his senses, but the price for it was steeper than he would have ever agreed to if he had been given the choice.

"Boss, over here!" one of the Revenants called and Bobo looked over. They'd found something during the dig. They hadn't said what, but they didn't have to. Not with where they were.

"Anybody touch it?"

"No, boss. We left it, just like you said. Boys ain't even completely sure what it is. Didn't wanna bother you with it, but you said-"

"You did good, Peeper." Bobo followed with the tall Revenant to the dig site. It was getting colder and the ground would start to freeze soon. It would be a good enough excuse to quit the dig without drawing attention to it. By the time Constance caught on that it wouldn't begin again, he and Willa would be over the town line and, if it all worked like he thought, the whole damn curse could be done at last.

They approached the band of Revenants standing around their trash can fires to stay warm and Peeper lead him over to the hole in the ground, yelling at someone to redirect the floodlights and for the slacking workers to get back to it.

Bobo waited, his expression even as they finished scraping the dirt away. He could see the wood beneath. He could feel the call. It sent a chill through him that had nothing to do with the autumn weather. He could see the reaction from the others as they looked for the source. They didn't know who was in that box. Most of them had no idea how the curse began.

"Well that is quite a find," a voice chirped, drawing everyone's attention around to the blonde woman approaching. Constance Clootie was dressed to the nines as she always was, picking her way around the rubble in her six inch heels. "Robert, hard at work I see."

Bobo growled lowly at the sight of her. "Come to pay your respects?" he snapped.

"Just to check in." Her gaze shifted over to the casket and they flashed an eerie blue, making the Revenants around it nervous.

"Take a walk, boys," he instructed.

"Oh, privacy," Constance almost giggled and Bobo rolled his eyes. If she thought he was in this for anything other than his freedom she was delusional.

The giddiness wore off as quickly as it had come and she frowned. "We can't leave him exposed like this. He can't open it from inside with the seals in place, but if someone were to find him even those may not hold him in there."

Bobo's gaze swept the area. "We should have burned him the day he died."

"It would only burn his cage away," she answered flippantly. "You should move him."

He grunted and shot a glare to the rotting corpse of the demon that had damned him. As much as he hated it, she was right. He couldn't end Clootie. Not permanently. An Heir might, but he still hadn't met one that he would trust to handle the task. No. The best option was to break the curse when Willa turned twenty-seven. There might be a day Clootie rose, but they'd be long gone, and he wouldn't be stupid enough to come running back to help end him again if it happened.

"How close are we, Robert? My boys-"

"Will have to wait. Ground's gonna freeze soon."

"You're telling me that you're stopping?" she hissed, indignation sharpening her voice.

"Till spring. Patience, Constance."

There was no warning as her magic lashed out at him and he felt it rip through his body like thousands of needles. He gasped, not able to draw enough breath in to cry out fully, and he fought against it until it finally drove him to his knees at her feet in the dirt. He bent over, gasping and sputtering against it, as she loomed over him. "There's no time for a delay, Robert. You've delayed long enough."

"I don't control the damn weather," he snarled back and felt her take hold of his hair and pull hard so that his head was jerked back at an awkward angle, staring straight up at her.

She was silent for a moment, watching him and studying him. He forced himself to meet her gaze defiantly. She might have him on his knees, but she didn't own him. He refused to let her.

Constance tightened her grip on his hair and pulled back just a little more, leaning down directly in his ear so that he could feel her breath there as she spoke. "How's Willa?"

Bobo froze and he could almost feel her smile, still far too close for his liking. He cringed as she pressed a kiss to his ear, and stood. Without warning she used her magic to put him face-first into the dirt. "Clean this mess up and find my boys, Robert, or I'll take away the only thing of value you have left: your hope."

He grunted as she gave him a sharp nudge to the ribs before leaving him to find a new hiding place for her demon husband.

The sun was coming up and he still hadn't gotten any sleep. He was covered in dirt, sore from digging as well as the beating he'd received. It would subside in a few hours, but the anger wouldn't. Neither would the fear. Not until he knew she was safe.

He didn't go back to his trailer, but watched his back to make sure he wasn't being followed before making a beeline for the Reservoir. He made it up the metal rungs in record time, barely knocking before opening the door, not completely sure what he'd find. Leaving Clootie exposed simply hadn't been an option, but the idea that Constance might know where the hidden Earp sister was terrified him. "Willa?"

The blonde woman stirred on her bed, her eyes fluttering open. "Robert? What's wrong?"

He loosed a breath, relief flooding through him. "You're alright," he breathed.

She looked a little worried at that as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, padding over to where he was still standing at the door. Willa reached up, her hand resting on the side of his face. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Bobo leaned into her touch, craving the physical certainty that she was there and she was safe. Yes, she was his way out, but she'd become more.

"Robert?" She touched his chest, trying to draw his attention, and he winced a little, pulling a frown from her. "What happened?"

His eyes opened and reached down, pulling her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her palm. "Constance Clootie knows," he finally managed. "I don't know how, but she knows."

Willa's gaze turned darker, calculating. "Where I am or just that I'm alive?"

"Not sure," he admitted softly and she tipped up on her toes, pulling him to meet her there. Bobo sank down into this kiss and he felt her hands move to tug his coat off his shoulders.

"Then," she managed, not quite breaking the kiss off, "there's no rush." She pulled back, meeting his gaze and there was something in her eyes that sent a chill up his spine. "She wants to be on your good side. She wants you to find those bones for her, and we have less than a year. Do what she wants, don't give her a reason to come for us, and then we're done. We're gone and she burns with the rest of them."

"Less than a year," he murmured.

"Less than a year," she assured him, kissing him again. "Now come to bed. I wasn't ready to wake up yet."

He let her pull him, leaving his coat in a heap on floor and he toed his boots off, following her into the bed. He was still covered in dust and dirt, but she didn't seem to care as she curled up, her head on his chest and an arm draped over his middle. The pain was starting to subside already, and he listened to her breathing even out to help calm himself, finally bringing a hand up to stroke her dark blonde hair. She sighed against him, already inching back towards the sleep he had interrupted. She thought she knew about the dangers they faced, but she didn't. She couldn't. Not from her perch here in the treehouse. It was up to him to make sure that no one hurt her, even if that meant bending to the Stone Witch a little while longer.

Less than a year. After all the years he'd suffered he could handle whatever Constance had to dish out. Then they'd be free.

Notes: I'm a timeline nerd and it's one of the things that shows seem to mix up a lot with continuity. In 1.02 Bobo talks about the fact that they've been digging for 15 years looking for the Stone Witch's sons' bones, but in 1.13 he tells Waverly that he rounded up people to help with the dig when Constance stole Willa away days before her 27th birthday. That would have been just a little over a year before Wynonna came to town, as Wynonna and Willa are less than 2 years apart in age. So this is the best way for my brain to fill in that gap.

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: His Angel

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: A little girl is adopted by Ward and Michelle Earp and given the name Waverly. 

His Angel

It was something when he thought about it, the way that technology had advanced from the moment he'd woken up in that church in 1929 to find his old friend's death had finally kickstarted the curse that Clootie had cast on him and now. Transportation, communication, day-to-day gadgets that they wouldn't have dreamed about in his day. He handled it in stride, like the others. They didn't have much choice in it if they wanted to retain any grounding in the here and now that they found themsleves in. It didn't make it easy for some. There were still Revenants that refused to step foot into a moving vehicle and Bobo himself wasn't overly fond of the new cell phone fad that was beginning to crop up, but it was what it was, and if they were smart, they'd use it in any way that they could to get a little closer to the end to the curse that trapped them in Purgatory.

Then, sometimes, there were personal benefits as well.

Bobo Del Rey had left the name Robert Svane many years ago. It had been dangerous to hold onto and while there weren't many Revenants that knew his face, his name was one that could easily be passed around. Still, a very small part of him - one that he wouldn't admit to anybody - wanted to hold onto something. He didn't have anything left of that life, but as technology progressed he had found a strange and unique opportunity to find information outside of the Ghost River Triangle, and within the last few years he'd found something of personal interest: a family line that had settled in New Mexico with the name of Svane, and that line could be traced back to a Richard Svane, born 1837.

He could barely remember his brother's face now with the years and hell between them. So much had happened, and if he were honest, he hadn't given Richard - or any of his other siblings, for that matter - a second thought in decades now, but as he stared at his brother's lineage he could see him in their eyes. Many of them were the same blue as his own and a similar shape. They were lanky and thin, each one of them with an accomplishment of some note under their belt. Well, Richard always had been the one their parents had counted on.

For several years it was a passing hobby. He had connections in many places outside of the Triangle, and the ones he had in the little town that his brother's family had settled in kept an eye out for anything interesting. There wasn't a lot of news until the call came in. There'd been an accident. Richard's some-odd great-grandson and his wife had been killed, leaving a newborn baby girl alone with no family claiming her.

Bobo didn't consider himself a rash or sentimental man, but in that moment he had been both. Possibly stupid too. Scratch that. Definitely stupid. He had given the order and the girl was on her way to Purgatory before he'd truly thought it through. What the hell was he supposed to do with her when she got there? Keep her in the trailer park? Raise her amongst Revenants? Even if that wouldn't open him up to all kinds of problems, that was no place for a kid. He knew those demons, and many of them were just that before their trips to hell and back. No, he couldn't take her there.

But she didn't have anyone else, and he knew that this curse he was caught up in had the tendency to reach out and take hold of people connected to those under it at the worst of times. There was a reason that the only Earps from Wyatt's direct line always seemed to be in Purgatory.

The problem was he had no one to trust in his usual circle. It was one thing for someone outside of Purgatory to know he was orchestrating this, but someone inside? No, they would have knowledge - or at the very least suspicions - that he had no interest in anyone under him having. His place of leadership with the Revenants was based on respect and fear. Risking that would put him back to the start after sixty-five years of tireless work on it.

So it had to be someone outside of his usual circle that he could still trust.

Bobo had met Michelle Earp only once, but he knew her by reputation. She was a good person, as people went. She was kind and patient. She had to be to have married Ward Earp. She was odd, quiet, and there were rumours. Whispers. She knew things long before they happened. He hadn't seen any proof of that until he approached and she seemed to know the question before it was spoken. She didn't ask for details, didn't make any demands of him. A little girl needed a home and she had one in the Earp household.

Now, as Bobo lingered at the edge of the county line, thinking back on the marathon of events that he'd tumbled into, he was really starting to question his own sanity. He'd seen multiple trips to hell drive other Revenants mad. Maybe this was how his own madness was finally showing. He'd taken that final step from eccentric to batshit crazy.

He could see the vehicle approaching across the bridge and he shifted, waiting as it drew closer. It pulled around, the engine shutting off and he saw a face on the other side of the windshield he hadn't seen in person in some time now. She had passed through Purgatory years before in search of a relic she hadn't found, but what she had found was a collection of cursed men and women stuck inside the Ghost River Triangle. She had stayed for months, researching and poking at anyone willing to talk to her about it, even though most weren't. She'd caught his attention and then, in turn, she had found him fascinating. He found her useful. One could really never have too many outside connections. He couldn't remember how many years ago that had been now, but he could see the grey starting to dust her dark hair these days.

"Bobo Del Rey," Becky greeted as she stepped out of the van. "Damn if you haven't changed a bit in twenty years."

He smirked a little. She was a collector of myths and stories and she'd never stopped asking him for the details of Wyatt Earp's Curse, and he suspected she'd always known more about it than he had shared. It fascinated her. It wouldn't if she had been caught in it.

"She handled the trip pretty well for as little as she is," Becky said as she moved to the back door, revealing a tiny little girl tucked into a car seat in the back. "You want to meet your niece?"

"Pretty far removed to be that," Bobo said roughly, and watched as Becky picked the baby up out of the buggy and walked towards him. He didn't expect her to shuffle the child into his arms and his eyes widened at the bundle as she settled in there, Becky making sure he had an arm under her tiny head before fully releasing her. It had been more than a century since he'd held a child, and he wasn't sure he'd ever held one this small, but she looked up at him curiously, completely and utterly unafraid of the demon cradling her.

"But you're kin," Becky answered with a shrug. "That means something to you, doesn't it? I mean, it's not like we don't have a foster system in Maldito. She wouldn't have been on the streets."

He grunted, his gaze fixed on the little girl. Finally he looked up. "Thank you."

"Honestly, there are worse things you could have called the favour in for. You two going to be okay? It's a long drive back and I should…"

"She'll be alright. I've made arrangements."

"'Course you have," she chuckled and pulled bags full of…. stuff from the van. Bobo wasn't sure he knew what all it would be for, but with two girls already he wagered the Earps would. He'd made the right call. He had to believe that. There was no turning back now.

"You take care of him," Becky told the little girl with a wink and she was back in the van and driving away, leaving Bobo holding onto an innocent little girl that had somehow trusted him enough to doze back off in his arms.

He didn't have long with the little baby that could have easily been the last of his line. Richard's descendants in Maldito had been the only ones he had found. That didn't mean they were the only ones around, but no one else had claimed the little girl. At least here he could keep an eye on her.

"That's a sight you don't see everyday."

Bobo turned, careful not to move too quickly and jolt the little girl in his arms. He had tried to put her back in the little buggy Becky had brought, but somehow he couldn't let go. It was strange, but in the few moments he had left with her he didn't really care.

Ward Earp stood there, his typical cross expression set deeply into his features. It was mixed with a little bit of surprise this time, though, like he hadn't quite believed that he'd find Bobo Del Rey with an infant. It wasn't like there was any precedent for it. "She yours?" he asked after a long moment.

Bobo lifted one off-colour eyebrow. "I've heard that ain't even possible," he answered.

"Until it is," the Heir huffed and shook his head. "Keep your secrets. Michelle already talked me into it." He glanced back, the woman in question lingering a few yards away, and when he looked back he lowered his voice. "You are never to approach my wife or any of my family without me there again, you hear me, Del Rey?"

"Seemed better to ask the one that would actually do the watchin'," Bobo said with his head tilted just a little and he eased himself to his feet, the baby stirring in his arms and she yawned.

"You don't have to tell me where she comes from, but…. why us?"

The question pulled the Revenant's attention. It was a fair question. "Ironic as it is, your homestead may be the safest place in the Triangle."

Ward seemed to accept that and Michelle moved forward to get a better look. The little girl was waking up, those big eyes watching. Bobo found himself wondering if they'd always be that same shade, or if they'd settle out into a darker hue. He seemed to remember the photograph of the girl's mother having darker eyes.

"She likes you," Michelle said as she approached.

"She won't remember me," he answered gruffly.

Michelle reached out, her finger against the baby's cheek. "She's beautiful. You're doing the right thing." She looked up, meeting Bobo's gaze directly. "A good thing. You've probably saved her life, you know."

He snorted. That was a bit much. Ward's wife seemed to be under some misconception of exactly what he was and what something like him was still capable of. Good was a definite stretch. It really was best that he was letting her go.

"Storm's coming. We should get her home," Ward said shortly, shooting Bobo a skeptical look.

"I swear, if I find your boys got ahold of another couple of tourists and that's where she's from…"

Bobo chuckled at that and Michelle reached out, taking the little one from him. He pushed down strange sensation of loss as he passed her over. He couldn't keep her. There was no way. He cleared his throat. "What'll you name her?"

"Waverly. Wynonna picked it out when we told her and Willa they'd have a baby sister."

The name hit Bobo like a physical blow and he was glad he no longer had ahold of her. He might have dropped her in surprise. Waverly. His angel. He'd almost written the encounter off as a dream.

Michelle Earp was watching him with a strange, knowing look. "We'll take good care of her, Robert," she promised. "The girls will love her. We'll love her."

Bobo nodded numbly and risked reaching out, his rough finger against her smooth little cheek. "Goodbye, Waverly," he whispered and she watched him sleepily.

He hadn't expected it to hurt to let her go. He hadn't expected to feel much at all about a child that he didn't even know. But he did know her, in a way. He'd been waiting for her since the day he'd died. Waverly. His angel. The demon and his angel kin. What an odd world this was.

Notes: I've had a couple of ideas on how Waverly and Bobo are connected after he called her 'kin' in the season2 finale, but this is my favourite so far. I really like the idea of her being a descendant (even if not directly) of Robert's while Wynonna is Wyatt's descendant.

And hey! This one was finished just in time for Waverly's birthday. It seemed fitting to go up today

I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. :D

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Graveside Confessions

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Bobo wakes up after Wynonna's near death experience and makes a detour to Willa's grave.

Graveside Confessions

The cold was the first thing he noticed. From fire burning every inch of his skin, the flames eating at him from the outside in and then the inside out, and then suddenly his lungs were frozen so that he could barely draw a breath in. The change was sudden and jolting, leaving him attempting to gasp and finding he couldn't.

Then it struck him. Snow. He was buried under the snow.

Bobo sat up, a deep growl escaping him as the snow fell away and the Ghost River Triangle came into view. He was back.

He sat there for a long moment, his mind racing with the rush of emotions that always accompanied a return from hell. There was the confusion, but that was waning now. The rage was taking its place, aimed at everything and nothing all at once. Betrayal, pain, suffering, and all because he'd tried to do the right thing once. The wound Wyatt left in him so many years before seemed to fester with each trip down south. It burned into him like hell's fires so that he could almost feel the wound itself that had done him in. The curse had some to do with it. Revenants were made to hunt down and be driven to destroy the Earp line. It was a fight to keep ahold of himself every time, to retain a choice. He'd won each time he'd come back and he just had to focus to regain control. It was a process, steps to bring himself around to the moments before the last Heir had killed him. Sitting in the snow he counted back, the memories replaying and it grounded him in the here and now.

He remembered Wynonna Earp waiting at the line. An act of mercy. There had been something so grimly stubborn in her expression that as he'd stood there, feeling the burn of the curse that wouldn't allow him to leave in one piece, he could have sworn he'd seen Wyatt in her eyes.

Then it hit him. The why, and his thoughts were overtaken by a different gunshot entirely and he leaned forward, bent over his knees and a name tumbled from his frozen lips.

Willa.

He could hear her screams, her angry voice as she shouted at Wynonna. He hadn't been able to help her. He had been laid out on the snow, the blast breaking bones and tearing through him to leave him limp and useless to help her. He'd tried. He had wanted nothing more than their freedom in that moment.

Bobo groaned, feeling stiff as he shifted, the cold reach deep now that he'd just sat there for so long. He couldn't just stay there though. There were things to do. There were always things to do, especially upon a return. Wynonna must have been dead, a new Heir coming to age. He wondered just how long had passed this time.

Slowly, with more grunting and grumbling than usual, he picked himself up off the ground, dusting his long coat off as best he could. At least that had returned with him.

He moved slowly towards Purgatory, his steps heavy. The Revenants that had been with him at Shorty's would have likely migrated back to the trailer park. They'd felt safer there, even if it hadn't been true. There was no telling what chaos they'd brought to Purgatory in his absence and he needed to regain control as quickly as possible.

His feet didn't take him to the trailer park though, no matter how much he knew that they should. Instead they sent him in the opposite direction, taking back paths to avoid prying eyes. No one knew he was there, and this might be the only chance he got at some privacy.

The cemetery was quiet in the morning hours. There were no funerals being held and if families were visiting gravesite they weren't anywhere near the one he was aiming for.

Fresh snow was piled on top of the stone, but the front had been swept off as if someone had been there recently. Blue eyes surveyed the area one last time before Bobo squatted down on his heels, his forearms resting on his bent knees. The headstone had been there for years, but now she was really gone.

He wasn't sure he really knew how to mourn anymore. Was he supposed to talk to her? Say goodbye and beg her forgiveness? Wonder if she would beg his if their roles were reversed?

Bobo blinked hard, his vision blurring a little as he stared at her name. "It wasn't supposed to turn out this way," he whispered, his voice rough and pained. "I was gonna save you. I was gonna save us both."

Willa didn't answer him. He doubted that they'd even buried her there. The Old One had had ahold of her, feeding off the darkness and the anger and the bitterness that she'd kept with her so long. He couldn't even find it in himself to hate Wynonna for what she'd done. It had been a mercy, just as the shot that had dragged him back to hell. He'd asked her if she'd loved her sister, but it had been a cruelty born out of the bitter pain he'd been in. He knew the answer. He just had needed someone to hurt as badly as he had in that moment.

Somehow, though, speaking to the unresponsive stone with his lover's name on it made him feel…. something. It wasn't better, but it made him feel something. Something was better than the aching numbness that threatened to eat him alive now.

"I heard you," he confessed softly, his eyes slipping closed. "What you said to Wynonna about going it alone." He wasn't sure how he felt about it. It was one more betrayal. One more Earp that had put the knife deep in his back and twisted it. He had to wonder what made him so leavable to this family…. and why the hell he kept coming back to them. Always back to them in some way or another. He hated Wyatt, but he loved him. He blamed Wyatt, but he missed him. Love and hate, betrayal and loyalty. It was complicated and messy, and it hurt either way. He reckoned it'd be the same way with Willa. It was never simple with an Earp.

Blue eyes drifted open again and Bobo felt a rare tear escape as he reached a trembling hand to his lips and then to the stone. "For what it's worth," he breathed, "I'm sorry."

He waited a long moment, but only silence followed. He knew it would. People like him didn't get closure, just another gaping hole in whatever was left of his soul.

Bobo sniffed, finally releasing his grip on the gravestone and he stood slowly. Things needed to be done. He had let himself be distracted from his original goal long enough. She couldn't hear him anyway.

He turned, ready to start the trek across town to handle whatever idiots had gathered at the trailer park, when there was a rush through the air, words whispered just out of range for him to hear, but he felt them wrap around him, locking him in and tying him down.

When blue eyes opened again he was on a padded floor, flat on his back and staring at a padded ceiling, his arms tied down to his chest. Bobo shifted, trying to pull free, but found it fastened snugly against him. Everything was wrong. Everything, and he wasn't quite sure why.

Notes: As many of you know, I have many complicated feelings about Bobo and Willa and I'm still trying to shift through them all. Really, it boils down to that it breaks my heart. I feel like, at least in the end, Bobo loved Willa more than she loved him. I'm not sure if it was always that way or if the darkness she was fighting inside and out finally just consumed. I lean towards the latter since we saw that Juan Carlos approached Bobo (a demon) over Willa (a human) to try to talk them out of their plans for going through the gate. He thought he had a better chance at appealing to Robert's goodness than Willa's, and I think that says a lot about just how far Willa had gone at that point and that Bobo didn't see it.

I would love for Bobo to get some form of closure on some things before the show eventually (many MANY years from now, I hope) ends. I feel like right now, on top of the darkness that he has to deal with due to the curse, he has so many open emotional wounds. Can someone just give the man a hug?

As always, I love feedback, and this one kind of made me want to cry writing it. I'd love to know your thoughts if you have any.

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Promises

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Waverly shows Bobo her drawings and asks him to make her a promise.

Promises

Waverly shows Bobo her drawings and asks him to make her a promise.

The day was closer to its end than its beginning, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows and the breeze was showing signs of turning cool across the Ghost River Triangle. It kicked up unexpectedly, always from the same direction as Bobo Del Rey broke from where he had been keeping to the tree line and moved into the open field. He was later than he intended and he wondered if she'd still be waiting.

She was, and he found her perched on the fence that marked the line between the Earp Homestead and the land beyond. She was bent over, a board or something in her lap, and she was scribbling away as he approached, completely unaware of anything around her. A stray twig crunched under his heavy boot and she looked up, a bright smile flashing across her face. "Bobo!"

Bobo suddenly had the youngest Earp sister launching herself at him, feet barely touching the ground as she leapt from the fence, and he took a knee to get down to her level. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt her bury her face into the fur-lined collar of his jacket. "Where've you been?" she asked, pulling back and turning the best glare she could muster on him.

He offered her a quirked smile. "Miss me?"

"No," she huffed and hugged him again, her actions countering the words.

"Not sure I believe you."

She grinned at him, but released him abruptly as the wind kicked up again and her papers that she had been working on scattered. Waverly leapt for them, chasing after the fleeing project. Bobo moved as well, his longer stride and curse-enhanced reflexes helping him head off some of the papers that had blown a bit further with the gust.

They were drawings, he realized as his fingers closed around a set. Crayon drawings, but not half bad for a little girl her age. Scribbled in her childish handwriting were names. Mama. Daddy. Wynonna. Willa.

In every drawing there were smiles all around except when it came to the drawings Waverly had done of herself. As Bobo flipped through the handful of pictures he saw the same, drawing after drawing.

A small huff drew his attention as the youngest Earp sister flopped dramatically on the ground next to the fence, papers crumbled in her hands and she set to straightening them out. He settled next to her, his back pressed against one of the posts, and he watched quietly as she worked.

"I can't find yours," she said after a minute.

"Mine?"

"Uh-huh."

He hadn't seen another one escape, but that didn't mean it hadn't laid itself out somewhere until the next gust of wind picked it up and gave away its position. "These are good," he prompted, choosing one from her stack. It was of all three girls and Ward standing around what looked like a table with a big cake on it, Happy Birthday scrawled across so that the letters were actually longer than the cake itself. Two little girls with Wynonna and Willa written next to them wore little hats, like some sort of party, and even Ward had one on. Little drawing Waverly stood apart without a hat. "Where's yours?" Bobo asked, catching her gaze.

Waverly ducked her head. "I don't get birthday parties."

He wouldn't claim to know a great deal about little girls and what was normal and what wasn't, but even Bobo knew that birthday parties were something that most children had these days. Especially if their sisters did.

"But Willa and Wynonna do?"

"Daddy remembers theirs."

Bobo felt his temper flare at the meaning behind the words and pulled in a breath to steady himself before his anger showed too clearly in front of the little girl. Ward Earp was a special kind of bastard sometimes. At least Bobo had an excuse for the cruelties he dealt out. Hell burned the good right out of a man, but even he didn't take out his own disdain on a child that had no choice in the matter. Waverly might not be Ward's biologically, but there was no reason she should ever have to know that. It was no wonder she preferred spending time out with him rather than with her family.

"Look!"

Waverly's voice brought him out of his seething thoughts and he saw her leap up, chasing after the stray drawing. He held it up triumphantly when she caught it and the sadness was pushed back for a little while longer. She shoved it in his face. "It's for you," she told him cheerfully. "See? It's you and me."

There were no names on this one and Bobo's lips quirked up at the corners at the sight of a smiling Waverly in the drawing. It was the first one he'd seen her smiling in and she looked so proud of herself. This little girl was far too pure to be Ward's anyway. Clever and sweet, open and honest. She really was the goodness left in the world.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"I love it."

"Good." She settled herself back down next to him, leaning up against him. There was no hesitation to trust him and he wrapped an arm around her. "You know what I want for my birthday, Bobo?"

"What's that, Angel?"

He felt her nestle in closet. "You."

"You got me," he swore softly.

"Always?"

He loosed a short breath through his nose. She couldn't possibly understand what always meant for someone - something - like him. She was looking at him though, with all the wonder and hope a child could muster, and he didn't think he could deny her anything. "As long as you want me, Angel."

She untangled herself from him and stood up, brushing her jeans off before extending her tiny hand. "Promise?"

Well, at least Ward had taught the kid one thing right. Bobo chuckled as he straightened, reaching his own much larger hand out to take hers. "Man's word is all he's got," he said and they shook, the promise sealed between them.

Notes: I'm having more fun than I should be allowed to have with this little series, and honestly, amidst all the betrayal and the heartache and the suffering, baby Waverly is such a breath of fresh air both to write and for poor Bobo here. Originally I was going to follow this up with a small scene of either Waverly thinking back while staring at the closed off well or Bobo remembering it from inside the well and trying to fight Clootie and losing, but then I decided I didn't want to ruin the happy fluff.

I need these two to be close again. Desperately, desperately need it.

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: In It Together

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

One Shot Summary: Robert Svane tries to keep a low profile as the newly resurrected Revenants tear through Purgatory upon Wyatt's death, but trouble seems to find him in more ways than one.

In It Together

The world around him had changed in the last forty-some-odd years and Robert hadn't been there to see it. It was a learning curve, and one he hadn't been prepared for. Not that he'd been particularly prepared to die and come back as a demon. That hadn't been the intent when he'd told Wyatt to take the shot.

Chaos had rained down on the little town of Purgatory the first few weeks after the resurrections. He knew some of the faces of the men that were thieving and raping and killing, throwing the new sheriff - well, maybe not so new, but new to them - into a fit trying to keep up with them. Robert kept his head down as best as he could, watching as eyes flashed red when he looked too long. If he and Wyatt had thought it was bad under Clootie, this was quickly spiralling even further out of control as every outlaw Wyatt had put down raged against their prison. If Wyatt's son had made it to Purgatory yet, he certainly hadn't made himself known.

The saloon had become his own personal haunt. He'd never been much of a drinker, but as time ticked on he found that it was his only escape. He had no way to leave the area - he'd tried crossing the line, testing the parameters, but had found that to be a painful mistake on his part - and the townsfolk were looking at strangers with suspicion worthy of everything that was happening around them. They didn't know. How could they? They'd been caught up in the Earp Curse the same as he had himself, even if they had a much quicker escape than he did.

"The boys don't know you."

Robert pulled in a deep breath, focusing on the half-empty glass in front of him and hoping to everything that the burly man to his right would go away if he ignored him hard enough.

"Hey," he said, shoving Robert a bit, "you deaf?"

"Just trying to enjoy my drink alone," the dark haired man said, blue eyes shifting just a little to glare at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Who are you?"

"No one," he huffed, and wasn't that the truth? He was no one. Nothing. He'd been a shield and a useful tool tossed away the moment it'd served its purpose. This was exactly why he didn't like to talk to others at the saloon. He wasn't even sure if he was Human or Revenant. Either way it would be best to avoid him.

"No, I know your face. I saw you some…. years ago," he said," the other said, leaning in towards Robert as if he were trying to goad a response out of him. He was testing him. Revenant, then. If he actually knew him or recognized him was anyone's best guess.

"Please, I just want some peace." His voice was a bit more pleading than he'd been going for and a terrifying grin split the Revenant's face. He'd just made himself a target. Only a couple of weeks in and he'd managed to make himself a target.

"You know where you are, friend?" he asked, pulling the stool closer. "We've taken over this place."

"And who's we?" Robert popped off, his nerves rubbed raw, but he regretted it instantly as the creature took hold of his collar, all but dragging him from his seat.

"I think you know," the other Revenant snarled, eyes flashing red in Robert's face. He could see the others gathering behind him. There were at least five, eyes glowing and dangerous. From what he knew of the curse, they couldn't kill him, but they could certainly bring the pain.

The first one threw him off the stool, sending him tumbling into the mix. Robert stumbled, finding himself landing on his knees in front of a drawn weapon. "Let's see if he bleeds like us," the Revenant said.

Robert brought a hand up, hoping to shield himself, and he forced himself to meet the other's eyes. A pair of red eyes went wide suddenly, returning to their original grey as blood dribbled out of his mouth he tilted slowly, falling to his knees in front of Robert and as he fell face first, Wyatt's friend saw the knife buried in his back.

The others froze, looking around, but no attacker was evident. Robert swallowed hard as another gun swiveled around to him and before he knew what was happening it was being ripped from the hand and pulled into his own. He was doing it.

That same realization seemed to spread as the others backed away, eyes wide and Robert could see the fear made evident in the way their eyes lit red, hell's brand showing on their faces. He stood slowly, dusting himself off, and he let his own eyes flash red as he straightened. "Now," he said, his voice steadier with a power he'd never known during his life as a Human rushing through him, "get."

They scurried as instructed and he waited until they were gone to loose the breath he'd drawn. It left him shakily and he closed his eyes, the gun feeling heavier in his hand now as he turned and set it in the bar, eyes on him from all around, but no one dared to comment. He knocked back the rest of his drink, feeling it burn all the way down.

"May I join you, friend?"

Robert turned, finding a thin man standing there with an amused look in his eyes. He snorted, motioning before turning to the barkeep to signal for another one.

"You have a gift."

"I have a curse," Robert answered immediately.

"As do so many here in the beautiful town of Purgatory," his new companion answered. "A few have shown… talents since we woke up. Nothing like that though."

"Your point?"

"People will talk."

Of course they would. He'd hoped to lie low longer than this though.

"Lou Maddock," He introduced, extending his hand. "And who might you be?"

Robert finally looked over to him, finding him watching him curiously and waiting, but he didn't move to take the hand.

"Come now, friend. We're all in this together. You won't last on your own. Gotta trust someone, right?"

He loosed a breath. It was only a matter of time anyway. "Robert. Svane," He finally answered, grasping the still-extended hand.

Lou's eyes widen just a bit. "I know that name. No wonder you've been lying low." He chuckled as he sipped at his own drink. "May want to choose a new one."

He knew him, but he was still sitting there. Still drinking with him. He didn't seem afraid, even as the Revenant behind them groaned, resurrecting slowly with the knife still deep in his back.

"You don't have to worry about me. Your secret's safe."

"Why?"

Lou flashed a smile, his eyes red. "Because we're all in it together, and sooner or later the chaos will end and there'll be a few that rise to the top. I like to place my best early." He held up his glass, that smile never quite fading, and waited. Robert snorted a rough laugh and clinked his own glass to it. An alliance might not be the worse thing to form. It wasn't like they were going anywhere any time soon.

Notes: I wrote a great deal of this story yesterday while traveling, and then this morning I log onto to find a fun video of the WE panel from DragonCon and Michael talking about Bobo's trust issues and how he's been betrayed by so many people he's put his faith in. It seemed to line up nicely with this little one shot.

I'd love to know what you think of these! Are there any you'd like to see in the future?

[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Aftermath

FFN II AO3

Series Summary: One-shots following Robert Svane through his journey to becoming the Revenant Bobo Del Rey. Not written in chronological order. Pre-canon through current events in SyFy's Wynonna Earp.

Story Summary: In the wake of Ward's death (and losing his way out), Bobo has to find his next step.

Aftermath

It was late, and while most of Purgatory was crawling into their warm beds in their safe little homes, the trailer park was in the full swing of celebration. Music blared, a bonfire lit the sky, and no one would say a damn thing. The Earp Heir was dead, shot by his own daughter with Wyatt's own gun. The new Sheriff Nedley was in over his head and his officers had been run off the property without shutting down the party that had been going for a week straight and didn't seem to be winding down any time soon. The fact that they had gotten off as easily as they had and hadn't been ripped limb from limb was a miracle within itself with the way things were going. There was very little controlling them when they got like this. No point in trying.

"You don't look happy, boss. Why ain'tcha happy?"

Bobo Del Rey turned his glower on the Revenant that had spoken, not bothering to straighten from his hunched over perch on the hood of the old, rundown car just outside the circle of drunk, whooping demons and their human familiars. He didn't say anything, but watched his silence make the other increasingly more nervous with each second that passed. Finally he rolled his eyes, digging out his pack of cigarettes. He knew his mood was sour when watching them trip over themselves bored him. "What?" he demanded, and the Revenant was reaching forward with trembling hands to light his cigarette for him.

"Y-you said to let ya know if the law came back."

Bobo loosed a frustrating snarl as he pushed himself off the car hood. He should toss whatever poor soul that idiot Nedley had sent into the pit of drunken Revenants. That'd teach him how this town worked. The sooner he got it through his head the sooner things would even back out. The demons would drink themselves into a stupor soon enough and the law would learn. As long as they kept to themselves the humans should do the same. There was a balance that kept things moving. Ward had gotten that. Of all his complaints about the late Heir, he had at least understood that sometimes you had to give to take. He'd about been ready to give what Bobo had needed to take freedom for his girls. They were going to end this damn curse, but no. Things had gotten out of hand, and then the Seven had wanted to kill the oldest Earp girl. Trembling, terrified little Willa Earp. She had tried so hard to be brave.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, flattening the mohawk down as he walked, his cigarette dangling from his lips. He took a long drag as he rounded the corner, a little surprised to see Randy Nedley standing there. Well, he was an idiot, wasn't he? Maybe he'd run out of cops to send.

Bobo flicked the butt of his cigarette at the new sheriff's feet, watching it bounce off his boot. "Nedley, to what do I owe the displeasure?"

Nedley looked him up and down. They'd had a couple of run ins over the years, all with Ward heading up the conversation. Bobo didn't think that he had the full story. Most people didn't. They just instinctively knew who held the power in this town, especially with a dead Heir. Usually it wasn't voiced. It looked like it would continue to go unvoiced, even if not unnoticed. "Sheriff Nedley now. You sent one of my officers to the hospital earlier tonight."

"I haven't touched any of your boys," Bobo answered, flashing his teeth as he smiled. "If he came onto this land and started… riling one of my boys up, well. Guess he got what's coming to 'im."

"Listen here, Bobo. I'm not just gonna let you-"

"Let me?" Bobo asked, moving towards the man and he leaned in. "Do tell, Sheriff. What are you going to let me do?"

To his credit, Nedley didn't flinch. He held his ground as Bobo snarled and he could see the anger in the Human's eyes. There were rumours about what went down at the Homestead that night. No one had any proof and they wouldn't get close enough to get any, but there were rumours, and if Bobo had to place his bet, he'd have bet Nedley believed little Wynonna Earp wasn't as crazy as everyone said she was. That he knew the Revenants had had something to do with it, even if he didn't know what they were called.

There just wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Nedley snorted, eyeing the collection of Revenants and familiars that had gathered to see if the boss man would leave the new sheriff breathing for at least one more night. "Keep it down, Bobo. And keep your boys in check."

Bobo held his gaze for a long moment, daring him to say more. When he didn't he cracked a grin, waving. "Buh-bye."

Laughter echoed behind him and Bobo straightened a little. The Revenants around him started to disperse, heading back to the bonfire. He grabbed one by the collar. "That fire spreads and it'll be you that gets thrown in, got it?"

"G-got it, boss," the trembling Revenant managed. Bobo released him and watched him dart back with the others. That would keep them busy for a while without things getting too out of hand. He needed a break. And possibly a drink, but definitely a break.

He pulled a cigarette out and lit it as he walked, his boots kicking at the snow at his feet and he inhaled the smoke, feeling it travel down his throat and into his lungs, releasing the nicotine into his system. It had all gone so wrong so fast. It had taken a long while for him to convince Ward that he wasn't planning to use this to double cross him. Heirs were naturally slow to trust him, and after the first one he hadn't been overly quick to trust them either. It usually didn't matter, but this time… this time it'd mattered. This time he'd been so damn close he could feel it.

He was going to walk free of the curse. Finally, after everything, he was going to breathe free air again.

And then the shot had gone off and Ward had cried out. The middle sister had stood there, Peacemaker trembling in her hand, and that's when everything had gone to shit. The Seven had known the plan - take the Heir and no one was to harm the baby - but without the Heir they were ready to tear his daughter apart. There was no reasoning with them, no smooth words to coax them out of their bloodlust frenzy. There was only the promise.

I'll kill her myself.

Bobo looked up towards the sky, squinting a little at the flecks of snow that were falling down. He had walked all the way out to the Reservoir. It didn't surprise him. He needed to check in anyway.

There was a small light in the window, like a kerosene lamp, and he saw her silhouette in the veiled opening. She was still, but if she had seen him approaching he couldn't be sure. He moved towards the tree, fingers extending as he pulled at the metal that had been driven deeply into the trunk. The spokes came out towards him as he called, forming a ladder of sorts, and he started climbing. It was dark and late, but he'd promised to be by that day. After everything, his word still meant something. Most of the time.

He wrapped his knuckles against the door and waited. There was a sound inside, but then no word and he pushed it open very slightly and waited, listening for word that he shouldn't enter.

It came in the form of a dull knife bouncing off the wood, aimed about where his head was and he sighed. He'd had too long of a day to come here to this.

"Are you done?" he groused, pushing it the rest of the way open.

Willa Earp glared at him. "I can see it from here, you know. I know what they're doing. They're celebrating. My daddy's dead and they're celebrating."

"They are," Bobo answered honestly as he entered the treehouse. "And as far as they know, you're dead too. You're welcome."

"I didn't thank you."

"I didn't exactly expect Ward to teach you girls manners."

She was on her feet and taking a swing at him now, her small fist landing where he'd been standing just seconds before as he stepped back and out of her way. Well, she hadn't settled down any since his last visit. She might have even gotten worse.

"You son of a bitch!" Willa growled.

He caught the next swing, his grip loose around her wrist but holding it firm. "You got a mouth on you, little Earp. You need to keep it shut if you know what's good for you. You may be pissed at me, but I saved your life. What they'd of done to you…." Bobo closed his eyes, reining himself in. She was a child. She might be the future Heir, but she was a child. It'd been a long time since he'd had to remind himself how to speak to one.

"Don't try to make it sound better. You took me prisoner. You want me… for something."

Bobo let her wrist go. "I ain't gonna hurt you," he said lowly, taking a step back.

"What, demons don't hurt little girls?" she popped off and he snorted. He found her watching him, curious and wary. "So what are you going to do with me?"

That wasn't the question, wasn't it? He huffed, taking a heavy seat on a chair that he'd brought up for her. The treehouse was old and rundown, hardly ever used, and he'd had to be careful over the last week. Bringing food was one thing, but bringing too much else while they were watching could get people curious. The last thing he needed was one of the Seven coming to the treehouse and finding the young, future-Heir hidden away by their leader. That might be difficult to explain. He'd put a lot of work into scaring the other Revenants into submission over the years. He had no interest in having to start over.

"Hey!" Willa Earp growled, snapping her fingers in front of his face to gain his attention.

Bobo blinked at her.

"Whatever Daddy promised you? I'm never going to give it to you," she told him firmly. "Never."

He stood, towering above her and she crossed her arms over her chest and leveling a glare worthy of her name. She was a spitfire, and maybe she'd be willing to help him someday, maybe she wouldn't. Constance Clootie was already dropping hints after the failed attempt at escape. She hadn't gotten past his boys to him yet, but he'd heard the whispers. She had a lead. Something other than the prophesy. He just had to give her something in return.

Bobo couldn't see the future and at this point, with his hopes dashed again, he didn't dare bet on it. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with her, but she was Wyatt's blood. He didn't stick his neck too far out for them anymore, but most of them in the crosshairs of a hunting party weren't children either. "You," he snarled, leaning in and finally watching her flinch, "need to keep quiet. They think you're dead, and that's the only thing keeping you safe. Who would you rather go up against? The one that saved you or all of them that want to tear you apart?"

That sent her shrinking back just a little and Bobo pushed a long breath through his nose, nodding a little and starting for the door. He needed to go before he said something that he regretted.

"Hey." He turned, finding her standing there. "Could you bring me some paper and pencils?"

"Why?"

"I like to draw. It's boring up here."

A long moment ticked by. "I can manage that."

"And a burger from Shorty's?"

Bobo's lips twitched at the corners. "Don't get greedy, little Earp" he said, but he saw the way her expression eased very slightly. She heard the rough attempt at a tease.

He wasn't sure what would happen, but somehow he wanted to save Willa Earp. Somehow he wanted to give her a chance to survive.

Notes: I have such mixed feelings about Willa, I really do. But I do love Nedley, especially after this season. I hope to have him pop in and out of these stories as he's trying to get his footing under him as sheriff.