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monokyokyo · 3 years ago

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Flower Boy

An old one but I'm working on a part 2 so I figured I'd share it anyway!

Jongsang (although it's not really focused on), pretty fluffy, Jongho is a florist

Flowers had a range of emotions. From the fiery passion of roses to the sombre colour of forget me nots'. Jongho found comfort in the likes of these pristine plants. After all, he had an entire shop dedicated to nearly every flower the region had to offer. It was such a simple job yet there was nothing he would rather do.

Every day, someone new entered his shop in search of a flower to suit their tastes or situation, and it was Jongho's job to assist them.

The day started out normal. Jongho was rearranging the objects on the front counter when a familiar face strutted in. "Hello Mr Park," He greeted the tall man cheerfully.

"How many times must I tell you? Just Seonghwa is fine." Chuckled the customer as he removed his sparkling sunglasses.

"I'm sorry. What can I do for you today, Mr Park?" Seonghwa shook his head, deciding to just leave it be. His eyes travelled around the small shop, a light hum coming from his lips.

"I'm looking for something that really pops! You know? This couple is really into gemstones, so they're having a crystal wedding." Seonghwa was a wedding planner. Every now and again, usually once or twice a week, he would come to Jongho's store in search of the perfect flowers to impress his clients. He was a rather picky individual and Jongho learned during their very first encounter that he wasn't someone whose time should be wasted.

As such, Jongho got right to looking for the perfect bunch of flowers for the occasion. He glanced around before finally landing on what he hoped was the right bouquet. "Why not freesia?" He suggested. "The red ones represent passion, something these two must have a lot of if they're theming their wedding around their love of crystals. Wouldn't you say?"

Seonghwa nodded at him, a slight grin forming on his face at the bright smile on the younger man's face. "I would say indeed. Alright, I'll need two dozen bouquets. I'll send you the details on the wrapping later." He put his sunglasses on and turned to the door. "Give me a call when you're ready to plan your wedding, hey Jongho? I promise I'll give you the best of the best."

"I'm only twenty," He giggled. "I've still got some time, Mr Park."

Seonghwa chuckled. "Indeed you do." He left, leaving Jongho with a smile on his face.

About an hour or so later, the bell above the store entrance dinged. Jongho looked up from his order and saw a man scanning, somewhat frantically, through several displays of flowers. "How many I help you today?" Jongho asked the customer cheerfully.

The man sighed and sluggishly walked over to the counter. "I need the perfect flower for my boyfriend. He's been going through a lot recently and I need something to show him that I'm here for him..." Jongho tilted his head at this and hummed. He told the man to wait a moment then hopped over to one of the shelves.

"Here," He said. The man looked down curiously at the pink hydrangea in Jongho's hand. "Pink hydrangea for a passionate and emotional romance. You clearly care about him a lot. I'm sure these flowers will show him that." Jongho tilted his head at the light hum of consideration he received, hoping he would take up his suggestion. "I could label the bouquet if you'd like? What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Wooyoung," Jongho didn't fail to notice the way the man smiled at the mere mention of his boyfriend's name. He found it sweet how love two people could share with one another. Words are hard to express, but one could show them through something as simple as a flower. So Jongho made sure to put on the nicest tag he had, and encased the hydrangea a shiny, clear plastic to keep them safe.

"I hope things go well for you two," Said Jongho just as they finished their transaction. He handed the man the bouquet, sending him a grin with it. "Have a good day Mr..."

"San. Choi San," Then they parted ways. It made Jongho feel a certain pride inside, knowing he had the potential to help someone with his flowers. Regardless of if he knew the turnout, at least he was able to provide some assistance to those who would appreciate it. Well, it wasn't always appreciated.

About thirty or so minutes later, another familiar face stormed into the flower shop. The front door slammed open, disturbing the usual calm atmosphere of the store when he stomped in. An empty vase on the counter, nearly cracking it and causing Jongho to flinch from his seat. He let out a yelp in surprise, a small squeak that only made the man in front of him scoff.

"M-Mr Jeong? I'm sorry I-"

"You should be," Growled the older man. He pushed back his blonde hair with an aggressive sigh while Jongho slowly pulled back the clay pot. His brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what could've gone so wrong that he would come back so vexed, especially after their calm encounter last week. Mr Jeong or, Yunho, had ordered a pot of roses for his girlfriend. Could she have hated them that much?

"I-If you don't mind me asking...What happened last week?"

The blonde huffed, though it sounded more like a growl to Jongho's sensitive ears. "She's allergic," The younger male squinted, carefully asking him to repeat himself. "Are you deaf? I said she's fucking allergic!" Jongho flinched back at his harsh and loud tone yet Yunho hardly made the effort to reel himself back in.

"You sold me these damn flowers, giving me this grand speech about how special they'll make her feel and how she'll love them and you know what happens? She ends sneezing through our entire date! Why the hell would you give those to me?!"

"W-Well how was I s-supposed to know? Y-You came in asking for flowers!" The look Yunho gave him had to be the scariest thing Jongho had ever seen...in his shop. He was tall, about six foot, and easily towered over the cowering boy.

"Are you saying this is my fault?" He seethed through his gritted teeth. Jongho gulped, unsure of what to do in this sort of situation. He had never had anyone this angry over roses of all things.

"W-Well, no...I'm not blaming you but...shouldn't you have known?" He flinched yet again when Yunho leered closer, his hands thrown up in what would likely be, useless defence.

"Those roses had to be bugged, sprayed with something, I don't know! You had to have done something to them! We have roses at home for crying out loud!"

"And do you water them?" When Jongho's only response was silence, he lowered his arms, creasing his brow.

"Well...I've never seen anyone water them...but..."

"So...You ordered real roses thinking that your girlfriend wouldn't be allergic...because she doesn't react to the fake roses in your home?" Yunho could only sputter out a string of incoherent words that basically proved Jongho's suspicions to be correct. In response, he sighed then wordlessly pulled out his logbook.

Yunho watched curiously as he flipped through before he landed on last week. Jongho then grabbed a piece of paper and asked for the man's card, which he reluctantly agreed to. When it was handed back to him, Jongho hit him with a frow. "Here is your receipt sir. I've refunded your flowers..." The face alone was enough to make anyone feel lousy but the way his words trailed off just added extra salt to the wound.

So just before he took his receipt and left, Yunho mumbled something under his breath to the boy. "Thank you...for what it's worth...she loved the flowers before she started sneezing..." A tiny grin formed on Jongho's face and it made Yunho sigh, successfully feeling like less of an ass.

Jongho never had aggressive customers. Irritated, sure, but no one had ever gotten that upset with him. It was a flower shop after all. All of that before twelve as well...

The brunette let out a sigh of relief when his phone went off at twelve-thirty, signalling that it was finally his lunch break. Though the day was mostly quiet, he hadn't eaten since that morning and was eager to fill his stomach with some sort of nutrients. However, just before you could put up his 'Back in 20 minutes sign', the sound of the doorbell caught his attention. In shuffled a man with jet black hair, featuring various strands of gold.

His eyes were light red and his face was a little puffy as well. Jongho didn't give himself a moment to mourn his lost lunch break and hastily rushed over to greet the once crying figure. "I'm sorry...Am I bothering you?" He sniffled, wiping whatever remaining tears he had.

"No, not at all! What can I help you with?"

The man fidgeted slightly, eyes wandering around the shop and towards the floor. Clearly, he was trying to look anywhere but at Jongho, something the younger wasn't at all bothered by. "I'm looking for a flower..." He shook his head, muttering how that was obvious. "A gift I mean. I-It's for..."

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to..." Shaking his head once, the customer told him that it was alright, followed by mumbling a few things that Jongho didn't quite get. "Pardon?"

"S-Sorry I um...I just got back from the hospital..." Judging by his mannerisms, Jongho couldn't quite tell if he was a patient or if he was merely visiting someone. "My father he um...isn't doing too well," Well now he felt awful for assuming his condition. "I just wanted to get him some flowers and my boyfriend recommended this place..."

The snap from Jongho's fingers made the older male flinch, put off by the rather bright grin on his face. "You must be Wooyoung! San's boyfriend, right?"

"Y-Yes...That's me..." Jongho had realised his awfully chipper tone wasn't very appropriate and did Wooyoung a favour by calming himself down.

"Sorry...Why don't you browse around and tell me what catches your eye." A slight nod was all Jongho got before Wooyoung began to walk around the store. He tried his best not to follow the young man whilst he strolled about but it was difficult not to be curious. The way he moved was so tired, sluggish even and Jongho knew he wouldn't find anything he would like in a reasonable amount of time.

So, with that, Jongho stood to his feet and made his way over to the mixed-haired male, following his gaze across the shelves. "Anything that's caught your interest?" His sudden question made Wooyoung jump. Jongho apologised as soon as he startled him yet the older only turned away.

"I'm sorry...I don't really know what I'm doing here," Jongho heard his airy chuckle but it definitely wasn't humorous. "I don't know the first thing about flowers or what he would like...I think I'll just go."

Jongho grabbed his arm before he could turn away, earning him a questionable look from Wooyoung. His arm was yanked back and Jongho replied with a nervous laugh. "Sorry. Um, stay right here?" With the soft tone of his voice, Wooyoung couldn't possibly leave yet. So he sighed to himself while watching the young florist run off to the corner of the room, where an array of purple flowers caught his eye.

He came back not too long later with a bouquet in his hands. "Iris'," Said Jongho just as he handed them off. "They represent hope. I hope you and your family have enough, but a little more won't hurt. Stay strong." Wooyoung looked down at the flowers in his hand. Incoming tears were the only thing he saw as they began to fill his vision, eventually clouding it entirely until he felt the water roll down his pale cheeks.

Whatever words he mumbled to Jongho were interrupted by his unstable breaths and cries but it hadn't deterred him in the slightest. Instead of charging him the moment Wooyoung was handed the flowers, Jongho asked him if he would like a cup of hot chocolate. The older male wiped his tears, offering him a slight grin and saying: "T-That would be wonderful..."

Jongho even gave him extra marshmallows to make him feel better.

It was rather late when Wooyoung left. Well, if you count quarter past three to be late - which Jongho did. Although, he didn't mind much. Wooyoung left his store with a smile, flowers and a cheeky bit of foam around his lips. It was good enough for him.

Thankfully, Jongho had gotten to eat a cookie or two while speaking with the mixed-haired male. It was just enough to distract his growling stomach while he helped his few customers. One of which was certainly one of the most intimidating Jongho had seen yet.

A tall stature, black leather jacket, red hair and a dark stare - Jongho had no clue what he was doing in a flower shop of all places. However, he had learned to never judge a book by its cover and greeted the man with a bright beam, just as he did with all his other customers. "Hello..." His voice certainly fit his appearance. It was deep, like it could reach the depths of the ocean if he wanted it to.

"How can I help you today?" Said Jongho, as he waved to the old lady who had just bought a pot of daisies right before the redhead entered.

"I'm looking for some flowers..." As obvious as that may have sounded, Jongho didn't hold it against him though. It was clear that he had never been in a store like this. The poor man looked too scared to touch anything as if he were afraid it was going to burst into flames if he so much as lifted a finger. Honestly, Jongho found it rather cute.

"Of course! What kind?" That didn't seem to be the right question to ask. As all the man did was rock back and forth on his heels, the gears turning in his head as attempted to come up with a suitable answer.

"Um...Pretty ones?" Jongho nearly giggled at how adorable his answer was. He was clueless about flowers and the young florist was ready to help him find the perfect one for his occasion. Walking from behind the counter, Jongho made his way to his titan of a customer and looked up at him. He was quite small in comparison but he didn't mind.

"I'll help you find the prettiest ones around! Who are they for?" Big men like him didn't usually visit Jongho's shop, so it was no surprise when a light blush crept across the customer's cheek and he began to avert eye contact in embarrassment.

"They're um...f-for my mother..." This time, Jongho didn't hesitate to giggle, eliciting a deeper blush from the taller male. "D-Don't laugh! What? Got a problem with me getting a gift from my mother?" The man's tone dropped to a frightfully low level, ending Jongho's laughter within seconds.

"I didn't mean it like that...It's just, I'm surprised. That's all. Not many tough looking guys like you come in here." This time, it was the other male's turn to laugh. A 180 that was nothing but appreciated by Jongho.

"Never judge a book by its cover, I suppose," He sent Jongho a grin and the younger smiled right back. "My mother's been telling me all about this shop, she comes here every Tuesday to look at the flowers and pick up supplies for her garden. She was busy today, so she asked me to pick a few things for her house."

"Oh! You must be Mrs Song's son? Mingi, was it?" The redhead nodded at him, continuing to grin even as he chuckled somewhat awkwardly. "She talks about you quite a bit. The one that sleeps with plushies, right?"

"Yep, that's me. I'll be honest, I'm not much of a flower guy but my mother adores them. Mind helping me pick out something she would like?" Jongho nodded at him, eagerly bouncing up and down in a way that made Mingi giggle.

Despite his rough exterior, Mingi was a rather sweet person. Listening attentively and nodding along as Jongho told him about his various selection of flowers and even giving his own input, saying what and what not his mother would like. Eventually, the two settled on yellow daffodils, quite a few dahlias and a tiny pot of lavender. Once Mingi was completely sure this was perfect, he bid Jongho farewell, promising to come visit again with his mother at some point. The prospect of seeing him again made Jongho grin. Another satisfied customer.

The day was officially coming to a close. Jongho sighed the moment the final customer went on their way. It was a rather old lady and he had just spent the last fifteen minutes explaining that the stamen and anther of her plants weren't insects. A rather draining conversation, as you can imagine. After that, the young man was just about ready to close his shop and head home.

He glanced at the clock, smiling at it finally struck six. Closing time. He trotted over to the front door and got ready to flip to the open sign to close. Yet just before he could do so, the door suddenly swung open and Jongho flinched back in surprise. A hand grabbed his waist just before he could fall backwards, lifting his body to meet another.

Light, sparkling brown eyes met with Jongho's dark ones. His hazel hair managed to look unkempt yet too perfect to fix and his expression was soft but his features were sharp, almost prince-like. He was the epitome of beauty. "Are you still open?" Were the first words to leave his soft lips.

Jongho couldn't find the words or the will to say no or so much as shake his head. All he did was slowly escape his grip, carefully gesturing him into the store. The stranger smiled at him then made his way in. Jongho gulped, watching his every movement. He had seen him before. A delivery boy from the restaurant down the road. The two had never spoken but Jongho knew he existed. Yet he yearned for more.

"Do you know what you're looking for?" He inquired in a voice more akin to a whisper rather than his usual upbeat speaking voice. The older brunette turned back to him. Jongho thought he had done something wrong judging by his stare yet the smile returned to his face.

Slowly, he made his way towards the florist, prompting Jongho to step back until he was pressed against one of the displays. "You," He stated simply.

Blush erupted onto Jongho's cheeks, sending him into an internal frenzy of panic. "M-Me? What do you..." He trailed off when the other male picked a lone rose from the table. Oh...he meant the rose. He told Jongho that he would take it and go, filling him with a heavy heart.

With that, Jongho filled out their transaction, trying his best not to let his gaze travel to the lean figure in front of him. How could he be so intimidating while doing practically nothing?

The man had sweater paws for crying out loud.

Jongho then handed him the rose and a receipt. "Have a good evening, sir..." Yet he hadn't left yet. He glanced up to see the man wrapping a tag around the flower, before he placed it back on the counter. Just before Jongho could question what he was doing, he was hit with another smile.

"Good night, flower boy." Was all he said before he leaned in and placed a kiss on the younger's forehead. Just like, he disappeared into the night. Like a strange yet delightful dream Jongho had experienced in the wake of dawn.

Cautiously, he glanced at the rose that was left on the counter.

Call me XXX-XXX-XXXXX Kang Yeosang I would love to get to know you, Flower Boy

#Jongho #choi jongho #ateez #ateez fluff #jongsang #ateez fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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takadasaiko · 7 years ago

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Such Great Heights: Part Nine (a Wynonna Earp fic)

FFN II AO3

Part Nine

Blue eyes blinked sluggishly open and he felt like he was trying to wade through a thick fog, every thought taking a little longer than it should have to sort through. It took a moment for him to piece together that he wasn't laid out on the main street that cut through the middle of Purgatory, but rather on what felt like a metal floor and was staring up at a ceiling rather than the sky above him. It was freezing, his breath showing as a groan escaped him as he shifted, every muscle in his body fighting the movement. He got turned enough that he could see what looked like the inside of a walk in freezer and the rest of Wynonna's friends and family in various states of wakefulness. None of them looked too worse for wear, even if chilled same as he was.

"Oh good, you're awake."

He turned, finding Wynonna herself standing over him with her arms crossed and the question died before it even made it to his lips. Willa. Grace. He'd lost them, or maybe hadn't even had them at all. That family that he'd been so certain that he loved had been bait, dangled in front of him and he had jumped at a dream life that he wasn't sure he'd even known he could still want. He'd been played for a fool and when he got his hands on Clootie he was going to tear him to pieces.

"Yeah," he bit out, forcing himself to his feet and he reached a hand out, half-frozen fingers outstretched and splayed in front of him, and the door began to rattle. He felt the metal react, the world around him tinging red with the effort and it gave.

The heavy door slammed forward and there was a yelp from the other side as it collided with a Revenant that had been left on guard duty, little good that he did. Bobo was first out and he growled lowly, catching sight of the second guard. He recognized him. Jim… No, Jon, he thought. It didn't matter. He could feel the brand burning his back as he swung the door around and into Jonny boy, slamming him against the wall.

"Where's my gun, asshole?" Wynonna demanded and the Revenant stared up at her with terror in his eyes even as the Heir took hold of the front of his shirt.

"He won't tell you," Bobo grunted, looking around. They were in the back kitchen of a restaurant just down from the sheriff's station. It looked like Clootie had had them dragged in there after putting them under the dream spell, and likely planned to let them freeze to death while they'd happily lived out their last breaths in the dream world, oblivious to the fact that they should have been fighting for their lives. It had kept them placated and given him time to… Bobo still wasn't sure, but he really didn't care. He'd stopped caring a great deal about the people caught of this town long ago and his goal, his one aim, was ripping Clootie to shreds now.

"Bobo, are you-"

"No," he snapped, cutting Waverly's soft question off. He didn't have to hear it to know exactly what she was trying to ask. "No I'm not." He blew past her, heading for the restaurant's exit to the main street.

He didn't quite make it, though. His hand touched the door as he felt the change in pressure, pure power throwing him back not unlike the Revenant that had been caught in his own escape just moments before. Bobo hit hard, snarling as he kicked the newly broken wood door off of him. Clootie stood in the opened entrance, much more whole than they'd last seen him, and a ring resting on his finger. So that had been it. This whole bag of chaos had been so that he could steal that damned ring back.

Bobo hauled himself to his feet, Wynonna close enough that he could speak lowly. "Get Peacemaker."

"What about you?"

"We'll see if there's enough left for you when I'm through."

His blue eyes flickered to the entrance, catching Clootie's golden gaze, and he could hear the screams from beyond the door. The demon's smile was twisted. He always had enjoyed torturing the citzens of Purgatory. "Have a nice nap, Robert?" A deep, rumbling growl escaped Bobo as he bent a little, ready to spring into action, but that only seemed to amuse Clootie more. "After everything, I would feel let down if you just stepped aside."

"There's only one way this ends."

"That's a severe lack of imagination." Clootie chuckled, his boots sounding against the wooden floor of the restaurant. It was empty, just the two of them, and Bobo imagined he'd sent a collection of Revenants around back to head off any attempt at escape by the Earp clan. "That's not something I would expect from you, especially after all the years and all you've seen. Tell me, how was Willa?"

Hatred boiled him over the tipping point and he leapt forward, a snarl on his lips as he had to cut sharply right to avoid a blow aimed at him. Clootie had barely twitched, but power that looked like a streak of blue cutting through the air left the floor where Bobo had just been smoldering and he couldn't move fast enough to avoid the next one.

The hit took him off his feet, slamming him hard and he rolled to a stop, the pain on par with crossing the line. He lay there for a half a moment, coughing and sputtering against it, but a single image pushed through the blow, and he remembered Willa's determined expression as she had held tight to Grace, letting him go to escape the destruction of a world that had been falling down around them.

He grimaced, pulling himself up to his knees, and he held onto the memory like a lifeline. Slowly his gaze focused in on Clootie who had a twisted smile played out across his features now as he moved towards the struggling Revenant. He tilted his head just a little as he reached out, taking hold of the strip of hair and pulling back hard. "Stubborn, but you always did look better on your knees. Stay."

"No," Bobo snarled and the world went red as he pulled hard for anything metal that his powers could reach, and the restaurant was full of it. Tables and chairs, knives, and even a framed piece of art flew from the wall and while Clootie was able to deflect most of it, he couldn't stop the angry Revenant that came at him, knocking him into the ground as hard as he was physically capable.

There was a loud cracking sound as the demon that was responsible for the Earp Curse hit the unyielding floor beneath them and Bobo's hands went around his throat, palms pressed hard enough against his windpipe that he choked against the pressure.

"You," Bobo snarled, and the pain unbearable. Every time he thought he'd hit his threshold, something pushed him past it and brought a new level of anguish into his life. It was the only constant in his life. Everything and everyone else left him, but the one thing that he would have happily let go of - the one thing that he'd tried so hard to let the numbness of time and everything he'd done to survive ebb away at - remained steady and growing. There was always pain, but this… this was too much. "You made me think-"

"Oh no, Robert," Clootie choked out. "I didn't make you think anything. That life, that was all you. And her, of course. She had some part in it dreaming up a world where she didn't… suffer quite like she did."

"That wasn't Willa."

"Was it not?" the demon asked, that terrifying smile back and Bobo wondered when he'd let his grip loosen enough for the other to speak. "Do you really think that a dream could create a person that you loved so clearly? No, she was real, Robert. Real as you are, and you left her there."

"Willa died."

"So did you. Curses are funny things, aren't they?"

The truth of what he was saying sunk in and Bobo felt a terror spread through him. His Willa. She'd been his Willa. Of course she had, and he'd left her there. He'd…

"You never learn your lesson with those Earps, do you?" Clootie asked and Bobo didn't have time to react.

Power slammed into him, picking him fully up and throwing him back hard enough that he went crashing through the front window of the restaurant and into the street. He laid there, sprawled out against the asphalt and staring up at the sky above him, the colours strangely beautiful. It hurt, he knew that on some level, but the physical pain was nothing compared to suckerpunch of knowing that all he'd had to do was drag her with him to save her. He'd failed her again.

He could hear the sound of Clootie's steps and the raspy chuckle. "I'll give you this, Robert, you've always been determined. It's impressive, really. I wondered that day what Wyatt would have seen in someone like you, but I do see it now. That's why -" he lifted one boot and set it back down on Bobo's chest, the pressure causing the Revenant to cough against it - "it's good to see you like this. Broken. It had to happen sooner or later, wouldn't you say? With everyone that's left you, abandoned you…"

"Get outa my head," Bobo managed, but the fight hadn't quite made it back into him yet.

"They're gone. The Heir? She's not going to risk her life to make sure you stumble away from this. All you've done is sacrifice yourself to make sure another one gets away. Same story. Gets a bit dull, doesn't it?"

A shot rang out and he watched Clootie's eyes widen from above him, dark blood blossoming from the exit wound in his chest. It wasn't a kill shot, but it was the first time since Wyatt that anyone had been able to get a bullet past the demon's defences.

The second shot wasn't so lucky, but it did cause Bulshar to release the Revenant under his boot and Bobo turned on his side, wincing against the back-to-back blows he'd suffered and he saw Wynonna moving towards them, Peacemaker in her hand and the shots going off. Doc, Dolls, Waverly, and Nicole were behind her, even Junior with his plastic gun in determinedly steady hands.

"Get the hell away from him," Wynonna said, pulling the hammer back on Wyatt's gun.

Bobo managed to sit up to see Clootie slinking away, finally at a stalemate with the Heir. He was injured, and the moment that he dropped his defences to attack her she'd finish him off for good. It wasn't a risk he'd be willing to take.

Several long moments of silence followed Bulshar's retreat and Bobo leaned against bent knees, feeling sick. He didn't look up as tassled boots stepped into his line of sight. "We've gotta do some damage control," Wynonna murmured awkwardly. "Are you….?"

"I'll meet up later," Bobo managed, still not bothering to look up.

"You want someone to stay with you?"

He snorted, finally letting his gaze travel up to the fifth Heir he'd known. "I'll manage. Run along."

Wynonna rolled her eyes a little at him and turned on her heel. He didn't need her pity. He didn't want it. No one could give him what he wanted. It didn't exist anymore.

"You look like you could use a drink," Wynonna said, trying for a smile and failing miserably as she leaned against the bar next to Doc. He was staring at a shot glass that he'd already finished off, but he didn't seem inclined to move to refill it.

"More 'n one," he mumbled and she rounded the bar to grab another glass.

She could feel his eyes on her the whole way around, but she didn't say anything as she grabbed for the whiskey bottle and filled both glasses neat. They drank, set the glasses down, and she filled them back up again.

Doc cleared his throat. "How's, uh, everythin' goin' with the clean up?"

"Well, he trashed the place pretty good," Wynonna grumbled, thinking back to the chaos that they'd found the BBD offices in. Bulshar had torn through it as he looked for his ring that Widow Mercedes had stolen from him and that they'd tried to keep from him. The fact that he found it was just another setback in a collection of them, but that would be a battle for another day. For now, they'd all gotten out alive and… mostly intact. She winced a little at the utterly destroyed look that seemed to be resting on Doc's handsome features. "You okay?"

He shrugged and pulled in a deep breath. "It was nice," he admitted softly. "You 'n me 'n Alice like that."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wasn't just my dream, Wynonna. Took both of us to make that."

Her lips tugged down and she took another long drink from her glass. "I really don't want to think about that right now, Doc."

"You never do."

"It's hard. I miss her…. so much." She couldn't look at him as she spoke, her eyes focused on every marking in the old wood that made up the bar. She jumped just a little as his hand covered hers and squeezed.

"Me too, darlin'."

She turned her hand over in his, feeling his fingers brush along the skin on the underside of her wrist and she tightened her hold, finally meeting his gaze. "We're going to beat him, and when we do, she's coming home."

"Best do it soon or she ain't gonna remember our faces."

"Yeah." The door to the bar opened and she looked over his shoulder to see Bobo Del Rey shuffling in. It had been hours and no one had had any idea where he'd gone to, but there he was, snow covered and the shock of white hair spiked up from the wind that had started howling outside. Wynonna sighed. "Time to handle that," she grumbled.

"Hey," Doc called, stopping her in her steps. "Go easy on him, huh?"

She snorted a short laugh. "Who are you and what have you done with Doc Holliday?"

He rolled his eyes and waved her off, reaching for the whiskey again as she turned.

Bobo was knocking his boots off at the door as she rounded the bar and steeled herself for the mood that he was bound to be in. She couldn't blame him, not really, but a part of her hoped that the outpouring of rage he'd given Bulshar had helped balance him out a little bit at least. As much as she hated to admit it, he was now an integral part of their team, and this was far from over. "Yo, dummy," she greeted, immediately kicking herself for the teasing greeting that she'd used so often in the dream world. Damn. This was going to be harder than she thought.

He pushed a short breath out through his nose. "Wynonna," he greeted back, those sharp blue eyes no longer hidden behind glasses as he looked over to her. "I take it you managed to get things back under control?"

"More or less. You know how Purgatory is. They prefer an answer that will let them ignore what's really going on even if it's crazy."

Bobo gave a short shrug in response and started for the bar. He didn't acknowledge Doc, but instead grabbed a bottle of liquor without bothering with a glass and found a table in the back corner to sit and sulk away from the others who had started to come in. Wynonna knew the intention had been to drink alone, but she'd never been good at doing nothing before, and right then drinking with Bobo and his problems seemed a lot easier than drinking with Doc and the one that they shared.

"What do ya want, Earp?" Bobo grumbled as she pulled a chair out.

"Oh, you know, to drink away that entire world, mostly," she answered and snagged his bottle, taking a long swig from him.

He grunted a response and took it back the moment she set it down. Wynonna watched him as he drank, set it down, and slid in his chair, slouched and angry looking. She chewed on the inside of her cheeks a little, searching for something, anything, that might help. She wasn't very good at comforting, but she didn't like seeing people she cared about in pain either. Well, that was interesting. She cared about Bobo Del Rey. As much as she'd like to blame the lingering memories from the dream spell for that, she knew it had come before that. "Listen," she started, a few quick drinks back-to-back on an empty stomach leaving her a little more open than normal, "I know this… sucks."

"The depth of your understanding never ceases to amaze, Wynonna girl," Bobo sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Could you let me drink in as close to peace as I can get?"

"No, because I get it." She leaned forward and he leaned back. "That world… that life that we all lived, it felt hella real. Everything about it. I think we lived it in a way and we all…. Saw what our lives could have been." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and all she wanted in that moment was her daughter in her arms to tell her not to cry. "We all lost something."

"Difference is you got a chance to get it back."

Wynonna grimaced at the words and for just a moment she couldn't help but think of him laid out in the snow, face half blown away by a grenade, and neither had believed the other truly loved Willa in the end. She knew now. She knew that he loved her, even if this life had been more complicated than the other. Wynonna swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah, well, I just meant…. You're not alone. Just because we're back doesn't make you any less family. She loved you there and here."

He looked at her like she'd taken a shot at him, pain so deep that it actually hurt her and she didn't want to imagine what it was doing to him. Bobo stood, grabbing the bottle, and she remained rooted in her seat as he muttered something about a cigarette as he walked past her.

She heard Doc scoot his stool away from the bar after the front door closed and she finally turned. "I don't think he's in a talking mood," she warned.

Doc offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes as he followed the Revenant out into the snow.

The snow hadn't let up in the five minutes that he'd been inside Shorty's, not that he'd really expected it to. He had hoped that Wynonna and her little band could leave him alone long enough to actually get something of a buzz going from whatever Holliday had in stock under the bar. No such luck, though, so it looked like he got to freeze his ass off while he drank. They'd be less likely to follow him out into the building mess.

Bobo shoved a hand into his coat, looking for his cigarettes and coming back empty. He checked the other side and his jean pockets and loosed an angry snarl, eyes flashing in irritation. He couldn't catch a break.

The door opened behind him and he whirled, ready to let Wynonna have it if she'd been fool enough to follow him, but Doc Holliday held a pack of cigarettes out as a peace offering. Bobo sniffed, taking the pack and knocking one out, switching the pack for the lighter next and he felt the smoke travel down his throat with the first drag. He took a heavy seat on the curb of the sidewalk outside the bar and gave a lazy motion. "Figure if you share your smokes I'm expected to share my booze."

Doc took a seat next to him. "I do believe you mean my booze, as it came from my bar."

"Which I never saw a dime for."

"Happens when someone kills ya."

Bobo shook his head, a strained laugh escaping him despite everything. It was strange, he still hated Holliday in a way, but when he looked at him he could also see Hank and all those memories of a friendship closer than either of them had ever had even with Wyatt swirling around and fighting for space in his head. It made hating him a little harder.

"It's funny," Doc chuckled, though there wasn't a great deal of mirth in it. "I remember you bein' there when my mother passed. Sittin' out on her porch like we are here, drinkin' and smokin'. Ain't nothin' to say to ease somethin' like losin' someone you love."

"That didn't happen," Bobo huffed.

"Felt real enough to me. Like raisin' Alice an' watchin' those two girls grow up together." Doc sniffed hard, running the back of his hand along his nose. "Spell or not, it happened. Not gonna do any good to deny that."

"'Spose not." Bobo took a long drag from the cigarette and let the smoke escape into the cold night air, a confession riding out on the breath. "I let them go."

Doc didn't answer right away, and that was much more the Hank he knew than the man that Robert had left down at the bottom of the well so many years before. Bobo closed his eyes and dug the heel of one hand into his eye, hoping to alleviate some of the building pressure behind it. "Willa was real. Clootie, he…. I knew it before he said it. Didn't wanna admit it, but I knew it."

"How's that possible to bring her back like that?"

Bobo shrugged. "How's any of this possible? Damn curse."

"And Grace?" The question was half swallowed, like he regretted it before he finished asking.

The Revenant shook his head. She couldn't be real, not from what he knew. Revenants and humans couldn't have children, but… He sighed, reaching for the liquor. "We loved her more 'n anything. Can't love a dream like that," he managed, Willa's words hurting more coming from his lips.

"I am sorry. For what it's worth, we're gonna need you in this fight."

"And here I am. Ain't never gonna catch a break for it, but here I am."

Doc made a small sound of acknowledgement and took hold of the bottle, lifting it. "To…. Willa."

He'd frozen, Willa's name on his lips and Bobo was about ready to tell him to drink or give it over, but he saw how Doc's gaze was focused in on something behind him rather than on him. He turned, squinting against the bright snow, and he saw a figure moving towards them that he'd have known anywhere. Those hazel eyes staring straight at him and her long, dark blonde hair tangling around itself in the winds. Bobo forgot how to breathe.

"I'll be damned," Doc managed. "Are you…?"

"Hey boys," she greeted softly, though her eyes never left Bobo. "I like the new hair."

Her voice shook Bobo from his stupor and he stood slowly, afraid to break yet another spell. There she was, her boots leaving tracks in the snow and she inched towards him almost hesitantly. She stopped, not quite touching him, and stared up at him. "I had the strangest dream."

He reached out, his fingers trembling fingers touching her cheek and she was solid. Real. They were awake and she was real. "How?" he choked out.

She tried for a smile, leaning into his touch and turning to kiss his palm just as he had hers before Doc had dragged him through the portal back to the waking world. "I don't know for sure. Everything was crashing down and then suddenly I was just… waking up at the edge of town."

"Grace?"

Willa's expression fell and she shook her head. "I was alone."

He nodded, trying to keep perspective. Grace had been something that they had created in that dreamworld together, just as they would have here if given the chance. It didn't make her any less real. Just not yet.

Bobo pulled her forward, wrapping Willa up in his arms and he felt hers go around his waist, her cheek pressed against his chest. "We'll get her back," he swore, kissing the side of her head. "You 'n me, we're gonna get Gracie back and then little Wyatt. We're gonna get 'em back." He pulled back so that he could see her clearly, focusing in on every detail of her face. It was her. He was sure it was her.

"I'm here," she promised, reading his anxiety, and she gave him a strained smile. She reached up, one hand on either side of his face and her voice held that determined tone that he loved. "And we will. We're too damn stubborn to let this curse take anything else from us. We're gonna make it happen."

"Wouldn't bet against you," he chuckled roughly and she tipped up on her toes, her lips soft against his and he lifted her up into it, feeling more right in that moment than he had in some time. He wasn't going to let her go again.

They broke after a long moment, her hands still holding him close and his wrapped around her, even as he set her down slowly, leaning down so that their foreheads were resting against each other. He breathed her in, focused, and his teeth clicked lightly as he opened his eyes to look at her. She was smiling a little mischievously. "Looks like we spooked Doc."

Bobo chuckled, kissing her lightly. "Nah, but we're 'bout to have an audience."

"Everyone in there?"

"Just about." She hummed softly, her expression turning a little worried. "Willa?"

"You think they'll forgive me? For what I did here…. We were so close in the dream. I don't want to give that up."

He snorted, a low growl accompanying the almost-laugh. "They do love their second chances, and they saw how much you can love 'em."

Willa shifted her grip, arms around his neck, and he didn't mind pulling her close again. "And you?"

"Nothin' to forgive."

"You sure?"

"I'm in this for life, remember? Ain't nothin' changed with that."

"Except that I died. You don't have to-"

He didn't let her finish as he leaned down and kissed her. He could feel her grin against him and he knew his answer was clear enough. He'd died too. This wasn't then, it was now. The dream had been their own new start and they were too damn stubborn to give up what they really wanted. Freedom meant the power to choose, and Bobo chose this. He chose her. The kiss lingered even as he heard Wynonna barreling out of Shorty's, and he held onto the moment that he and Willa had alone together as long as he was able to.

Notes: Oh wow, that was such a fun ride. I'd love to know your thoughts now that it's done XD

And, for those that are interested, I'm thinking of doing a few one-shots in this 'verse, both during the dream state and after, so if you have scenes you'd like to see (either from offhanded comments or just in general) just drop me a line here or on Tumblr and I'll add it to the list :D

#Wearp fanfic #Wynonna EArp #Bobo Del Rey #Doc Holliday #Willa Earp #Demon Clootie

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