39. I Knew That From the Day I Met You

       After listening to Wynonna’s pathetic excuse for punching the Officer, Gus made her way upstairs, lightly knocking on Waverly’s door. She didn’t hear an answer, so she cracked the door open, peeking her head in. “Sweetheart?” Her heart shattered, seeing the girl curled up in the fetal position, facing away from the door, the sounds of her cries echoing off the walls. She walked in slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, resting her hand on her side. 

       “It’s all my fault, G-Gus,” she sobbed.

       Gus pursed her lips. “How’s it your fault?” 

       “She wouldn’t be h-hurt if I wouldn’t have gotten all upset with her in the f-first place.” She flipped to her back. “And I’m still so mad at her and I’m trying not to be, but- but I still am.” 

       “And that’s ok. It’s ok to be mad. But you shouldn’t blame yourself. Couples fight and it's perfectly ok. You’re not supposed to agree on everything. Maybe she shouldn’t have blown her top at you, but sometimes things happen in the heat of the moment.”

       Waverly sniffled. “I yelled at her cause I didn’t want her to get hurt, and because I did, Wynonna hurt her! It is my fault!” 

       “Wynonna had no right to do that to her. It had nothing to do with you. She just involves herself in everyone else’s business. She’ll learn.” 

       “She’s just a shithead,” Waverly mumbled, wiping her face off. 

       “Yea . . . She is.” Gus laid down next to her. “Are you going to be ok, Dear?” 

       “I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to do now.” She was speaking barely above a whisper. 

       “Well, the first thing you need to do is talk to Nicole about it. Nothing’s going to happen until you work out your differences.”

       “I . . . I don’t know if I can talk to her yet. She probably doesn’t want to talk to me, either.”

       Gus sighed, rolling to face her with a small smile. “Take all the time you need, Honey. She’s a good kid. She’ll wait for you if she’s ready before you are.”

       Waverly rolled onto her side. “You think so?” She asked, wiping her face on her shirt. 

       “I know so.” 

       She sighed, biting the side of her lip. “It just hurts so bad.” Another tear escaped her eye. And then another. And another. Before she knew it, she was sobbing in her aunt’s arms. 

___

       Nedley got Nicole out of the cruiser and up to the ER room desk. The nurse looked up at them from her computer, handing them a clipboard. “Fill this out and we’ll get to you as soon as possible.”

       Nedley gave her a smile, leaning closer to the counter. “Ma’am. My Deputy most likely has a concussion. I’d like her treated immediately.”

       She sighed, pushing the clipboard closer to him. “I’m sorry about that, Sir. But there are probably 3 other people in that waiting room also with concussions. She’ll have to wait her turn.” 

       “Sheriff, it’s fine,” Nicole slurred, shifting her weight on her feet. 

       “No, it’s not fine,” he huffed, turning back to the nurse. “Maybe I should be more clear, I-” 

       “Seriously, Nicole?!” She sucked in a breath, rolling her eyes painfully at the voice. 

       “Shoot me,” she muttered, turning her attention to the tall woman gawking at her face from the doorway. Nedley looked at the redhead funny. 

       “With me. Now,” Shae ordered. Nedley raised his eyebrows at Nicole, who nodded. He walked them towards her and they walked down a hallway to a room. “Can you not last a month without hurting yourself?!” 

       “Apparently not,” she sighed, laying back onto the bed and pulling the rag away from her face. 

       “Nic!” 

       “Don’t call me that,” she snapped, throwing her a glare. Nedley cleared his throat. “Right. Sheriff, Asshole. Asshole, Sheriff.” Shae glared at her, slapping some gloves on. 

       “Haught,” he chastised. 

       “Sorry,” she mumbled, shifting back to the woman. “Just fix my face so I can go home, alright?” 

       “Maybe if you’d shut up, I could.” Nicole blinked her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Shae leaned closer to her face, pushing around the gash, wiping it down with clean gauze. “You smell like booze,” she mumbled. The redhead blew in her face. “Dickwad.” She began to flush the wound with saline or something, Nicole guessed. “What did you even do ?” 

       “Didn’t you just tell me to shut up?” She asked, tipping her head. Shae shot her a look, looking up to her boss for the answer. 

       “Bar fight,” he confirmed, resting his head on his knuckles, elbow leaning on the arm of his chair.

       She looked back down at her ex, who wasn’t quite meeting her eyes. She stopped flushing her face, pulling her hand away and squinting her eyes at her. “Getting your boss to lie for you now, aye?” She asked with an amused smile.

       Nicole sucked in a breath. “Would you stop being so damn nosey and just fix my fuckin’ head?!”

       The doctor rolled her eyes, walking over to the cabinet to gather more supplies. “Does Waverly know about this?” She questioned, sticking a needle in her face, numbing the area.

       Nicole clenched her jaw. “Shae!” She barked in a warning tone.

       She put her hands up, setting the needle down. “Sor-ry,” she mumbled. The Officer crossed her arms, looking away from her. She stitched up her face quietly. “14 stitches . . . Gimme your hand.”

       Nicole blinked at her. “Why?”

       “Because I am your doctor and I want to see it,” she informed in an annoyed tone. The redhead grumbled something under her breath, pulling her splint off and propping her hand up on the table in front of her. Shae looked it over. “I’m just gonna take these out now,” she sighed, running her finger along the stitches on her fingers. 

       “Right now?!” 

       “It’s all the way healed, I mise well.”

       Nicole pursed her lips, giving her the go-ahead. She took them all out, looking it over some more. “Can I leave now?” 

       “Doc, would you check her damn head. She smacked it against the ground when she got knocked out,” Nedley grumbled.

       She widened her eyes. “Knocked out?! Why didn’t you tell me that?!” She grabbed her chin, twisting her head, only now recognizing the purple lump on her forehead as something to worry about. 

       “You didn’t ask.” 

       “Yea, let’s hope your brain isn’t bleeding.” She walked out of the room. Nicole groaned deeply. 

       “She’s a bundle of joy,” Nedley grumbled.

       Nicole laughed slightly. “Hard to think I married that at one point,” she slurred.

       He widened his eyes. “Oh.” That explained a lot. 

       Shae returned a few minutes later with another doctor. “You’re getting a CT scan and they’re x-raying your hand.” 

       “Why? I didn’t do anything to it.”

       “If it’s healed, I can take the pins out and you can start physical therapy early,” she informed. The redhead nodded, liking the sound of that. 

       “Let’s get to it!” Nedley clapped, standing up.

.  .  .

       Nicole plopped into the front seat of Nedley’s car with a yawn. She moved her wrist around, not yet used to being able to do so. She had been diagnosed with a mild concussion, but the good news was that her hand had healed all the way (quicker than normal, Shae had said) so she got both pins taken out and had her first therapy appointment scheduled for the next week. She was able to move all her fingers but could tell it was different than before. And they were still very stiff. “I’m coming to work tomorrow,” she informed when he got in the car. 

       “3 days, Haught. Doctor’s orders.”

       “Nedley. I’m coming to work tomorrow,” she repeated. “Please.” Her voice broke at the end. She knew she needed something to occupy her brain. She couldn’t handle having nothing to do all day long, letting her thoughts being able to rule her.

       He looked at her pleading eyes. “Fine. You’re off Active Duty, though.”

       She nodded, swallowing the lump crawling up her throat. “Thank you,” she mumbled. He smiled, pulling out of the parking lot. 

       Sheriff Nedley parked his car besides Nicole’s house and she gathered their trash from the burger joint they had stopped at on the way home. He got out of the car. She climbed out after, cocking her eyebrow at him. “What?” 

       “What?” He asked. 

       “I dunno, you got out of the car.”

       He chuckled. “Am I not allowed to?” 

       “I- I don’t know,” she laughed. 

       “I want to make sure you don’t fall and bust you ass getting in the house,” he joked. “And I could maybe pay a visit to that cat of yours.”

       She shook her head with a smile, fumbling the key around on the lock, pushing the door open. “She doesn’t like men.” 

       “Well, she likes me,” he beamed, looking down at the orange feline purring up against his legs.

       She scoffed, watching him coo to her, bending down and stroking along her back. “I don't get it, she barely lets me pet her. She really likes something about you and Wave- . . . rly . . .” A bullet struck her in the heart hearing her name come out of her mouth.

       Nedley stood up, walking slowly over to her. He stopped in front of her, tilting her chin up so she met his eyes. “Nicole.” A tear rolled out of her eye. She was desperately trying to keep it together in front of him, but the softness of his eyes broke her walls down. She shook her head, letting it all out, stepping forward and clutching her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. 

       “I really fucked up, Randy,” she whispered.

       He hugged his arms tighter around her shaking body. “No you didn’t, quit. She’s going to forgive you.”

       She balled up the back of his uniform in her fists. “She won’t. Sh-she hates me now.”

       “No she does not. You know that.”

       “You heard her, she doesn’t even want to talk to me!”

       He sighed, pulling back, placing his hands on her shoulders. “The first thing she asked me was if you were ok, Nicole. That girl does not hate you.”

       “She did?” She sniffled.

       He nodded. “Just because she isn’t ready to talk with you does not mean she hates you. She needs time to work everything out. And she probably thinks you aren’t the happiest with her at the moment anyway.” 

       “I’m not . . .” She mumbled. 

       “See . . . You two are gonna last, I can already tell. But, even the happiest people fight. Give it time. Give her time. Let her work herself out and then she’ll come to you.” 

       “But what if she doesn’t?” She asked, worry on her face.

       He gave her a smile. “Haught, I’ve seen how she looks at you. She’ll come back, I can guarantee you that.”

       She nodded, wiping her eye with her hand, other being too sore to even bother trying to. “Ok . . . Ok, that makes me feel a little bit better.” She hugged the man again, a little less forcefully this time. 

       “You’ll be ok, I promise. Try and get some sleep tonight, that’s an order.” He pat her back and she pulled away with a laugh. 

       “Yes, Sir . . . Thank you.”

       “You don’t have to thank me for everything, ya know,” he informed.

       She smiled, deciding whether or not to ask the question she had been wanting to for a while now. “Why . . . Why’re you always so nice to me? Nicer than you are to the other Deputies?”

       He shrugged, hooking his thumbs on his belt and turning for the door. “You’re special, Haught. I knew that from the day I met you.” He reached over, petting the cat on a shelf by the door.

       She smiled at him, hearing the sincerity in his voice. “Night, Sheriff,” she nodded.

       He tipped his hat at her, opening the door. “G’night, Nicole.” It wasn’t until she heard his car pull away that she moved from her position leaning against the wall, swaying towards her room, somehow managing to change into some nightclothes. She cleared a spot on her bed, pushing her uniform and utility belt that she had thrown onto it earlier to the side, crawling onto it. 

       She tried to fall asleep, but her head was refusing to shut up. The pain from her concussion and shiner was one thing, but the thoughts racking around were a whole different story. She sighed, figuring she’d have to pick up an energy drink or two tomorrow morning.

.  .  .

       Waverly’s alarm went off, not that she needed it, though. She turned it off after one beep, having been awake the whole eight hours she was supposed to be sleeping. She crawled out of bed, grabbing her work clothes and slumping off to shower and get ready for her shift. 

       After she was all ready, she walked downstairs, seeing a pot of coffee already made, most likely by Gus. She poured a travel mug full, adding 10 pounds of sugar in hopes it would sweeten her mood up a little. She looked towards the steps, hearing feet coming down. She groaned internally, seeing Wynonna. “Morning, Waves,” she mumbled.

       Waverly walked past her, not even meeting her eyes. She walked out the front door, spotting Gus along the front of the house planting flowers. “I’m goin’ to work,” she said quietly behind her.

       The older woman stood, brushing her knees off. She saw the bags under her eyes and the frown pasted on her face, but she wasn’t going to push her anymore. How she handled the situation was her choice in the long run. “Alright, Sweetie, have a good day.” She gave her a kiss on the forehead. 

       “You, too,” she said with the best smile she could manage. Waverly headed off to Shorty’s, hoping no one tried to test her patience today. 

___

       At 4 AM, Nicole got tired of twisting and turning in bed. She changed into her workout clothes, downed a random 5 Hour Energy that she found in her cabinet, and headed upstairs to her gym. 

       She ran for a good two hours, music pumping through her ears. Was it making her head throb? Obviously. Did she care? Not at all. When she grabbed her water bottle once, she noticed that she grabbed it with her right hand, reminding her that she was somewhat able to use it now. She smirked, turning off the treadmill, walking over to her bench press and loading the bar up with the weights. She hadn’t been able to properly work out her arms in nearly a month and she could see the difference it had made. She spent about an hour doing different intervals, starting at 90 lbs, working her way up to 150 lbs. After she got bored with that, she moved over to her dumbbells, doing some curl-ups. When she felt her hand start to strain, she figured it was time to stop before she screwed it up. Checking her phone, it was almost 8 o’clock, so she went downstairs and showered, getting dressed in her uniform and heading out of her house. She picked up a pack of Monster from the gas station and drove to work, her shift starting at 9 o’clock. 

       Her eye looked . . . as expected. It was very red and swollen, only just starting to form the purple bruise around her eye. Her cheekbone looked like it stuck out an extra inch from all the swelling around her stitches. The side of her forehead had a bruised goose egg that felt like it hurt when she hovered her finger above it. She closed the visor mirror, climbing out of her car and walking into the building. “Haught!” Nedley called from his office. She hadn’t even walked past his door, so she had no clue how he knew she had arrived.

       She set the case down outside of his door, walking into his office. “Yes?” 

       “You want something to do today that’s not paperwork?” He asked, a small smirk teasing his lips.

       She narrowed her eyes jokingly at him. “Do I?”

       He stood, walking around his desk and out his door. “Follow me!” He smiled. 

       “Hold your horses, I just got here!” She picked the case up, walking to her office. She walked over to her desk, seeing her blue hoodie splayed out across it, half the things on her desk either knocked over or on the floor. She bit the side of her cheek, picking it up, running her thumb over it. She shoved the case of energy drinks in her bottom drawer, pulling one of the cans out and walking over to her coat rack, hanging the hoodie up and meeting Nedley back outside his office. “Ok, let’s go.” He walked them down a hallway, down some stairs and to a room she had never been in before. 

       “This . . .” He flicked the light on. “Is the Evidence Room.”

       She already had a feeling of what he wanted her to do, seeing the state of it. There were random boxes on the floor and tables instead of on the shelves. “Do I get to organize everything?” She asked, looking towards him and taking a drink. 

       “Only if you want to.”

       She thought it over, slowly nodding after a few seconds. “I’ve got nothing better to do,” she shrugged.

       He clapped her shoulder. “Have fun! Come find me if you’ve got any questions.” She nodded, giving him a small smile as he walked out. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, pushing her earbuds into her ears and getting to work. 

.  .  .

       The brunette put out her best smile and wave for the customers. The sugar in her coffee had not surprisingly failed to lighten up her mood. She was still trying to be optimistic, though, keeping herself busy at all times, not wanting to let herself focus on the bad.

       “Hey, Wave?” Rosita called. 

       “Yea?” She answered, wiping down the opposite side of the bar where someone had spilled their drink. 

       “Can you give me a hand?”

       She turned around, seeing her carry a box of new liquor over to the shelf. “Give me a second,” she mumbled. She finished cleaning up the mess, wiping her hands off on her pants, and knelt down next to her to help stock. “Why didn’t someone do this before we opened this morning?”

       Rosita looked over to her with a cocked eyebrow at the snarky comment. “You ok?” She asked softly, touching her arm.

       Waverly looked from the hand on her arm to her face, mouth coming open slightly. “Y-Yea, I’m fine,” she assured, continuing with what she was doing. 

       “Are you sure? You seem kinda upset today.”

       Waverly pushed herself off the floor, having put the last bottle up. “I’m fine, Rosita.” The woman still kneeling had a hurt look on her face from her snappiness. 

       “Waves?”

       She sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the voice coming from behind her for the second time that day. She grabbed her purse from under the bar. “Figure out what Wynonna wants. I’m going to the bathroom.” She nodded, standing up and walking over to the older Earp sat at the bar. Shorty and Nedley had agreed to let her use the station’s bathroom whenever she needed to. It was only like 5 minutes from Shorty’s. She stomped out of the bar and got into her Jeep, letting out a puff of air. She started the car, pulling away. 

       When she walked out of the bathroom, she saw the back of the redhead as she threw two black cans away in a trashcan. A storm of anger bubbled up in her. She smacked the light off and marched over, swinging the Sheriff’s door open, slamming it behind her. 

       Nicole spun around quickly at the noise, smacking her hand on her holster. She saw there was no commotion in the pit so she cocked an eyebrow, wondering which door slammed. 

       “Nedley!” The Sheriff ripped his glasses off his face, looking up at the girl and standing up. 

       “What?! What’s wrong!?”

       Waverly sat in front of his desk, crossing her arms. She sputtered a few sounds before taking a breath, closing her eyes. “What’d the doctor say?” She mumbled quietly.

       He pursed his lips, sitting back down, scooting his chair in. “She got 14 stitches in her cheek and the scan showed a mild concussion.”

       Her eyes widened. “Stitches?” 

       “Wynonna’s ring ripped a gash open,” he informed.

       She shook her head around. “Ok. Next question.” She raised her voice, “Why are you letting her work with a concussion?!” Nedley looked behind her, seeing Nicole staring into his office from the door, slack-jawed. The brunette looked at him weirdly, turning around to see what he was looking at. She saw nothing.

       Nicole crouched down behind the door when she saw Waverly’s head start to turn. Looking like a creepy stalker girlfriend probably wouldn’t be helpful right now. She walked on her knees past the door and window, standing up and rushing back downstairs. 

       Nedley let out a sigh. “It’s not my place to poke around in ya’lls business. You know that, I know that, Nicole knows that . . . But. This isn’t just her job. It’s her life. She’s the most dedicated Deputy I’ve ever had. And I will agree with you. Sometimes she pushes herself too far. Does more than she can handle. Hell, she worked a 30-hour shift one time because we were struggling with a case. I get on her ass when I see her in here at 4 AM when her shift ended at 10 the night before . . . She reminds me of myself. That’s how I was. Your father hated it.” He took in a breath, leaning back in his chair. “Keep your mouth shut about this because I don’t want her to have a heart attack just yet. Not everything is set in place. But . . . When I decide to throw in the towel, she's taking over as Sheriff.”

       The brunette’s jaw dropped. “Nicole as Sheriff?” She asked breathlessly. 

       “Yes.” 

       “Nicole Haught?”

       “Yes, that very one.” 

       “My Nicole?” 

       “Yes, Waverly. Her.”

       She grinned widely. “Really?” 

       “Who else would I pick? Lonnie?” 

       “That’s fair . . .”

       He nodded. “You didn’t hear this from me, but trust me when I tell you that she is sorry.”

       Her smile turned to a snarl again. “Well, she should have thought about that before she decided to be an ass.” 

       “She realizes that,” he assured. 

       “She better,” she mumbled under her breath. “I’ve got to get back to work.” She stood up, heading for the door, turning back and tapping her fingers along the doorframe. “Thanks, Sheriff,” she said, mustering up a smile. 

       “Anytime, Waverly.” She left with a small wave, heading back to Shorty’s. She still had a lot to think about. 

.  .  .

       The rest of the day for the girls rolled by, Wynonna continuing to be ignored by Waverly, Nicole organizing the whole Evidence Room. Their nights had been the same as the previous: Waverly sobbing into her pillow for an hour or two, Gus having to come and calm her down again. And Nicole breaking down after finding the weird veggie straw chips she kept in the house for a certain brunette. 

       Neither of them slept well again. Nicole had a 3 AM shift anyway, so she was able to distract herself. Waverly, on the other hand, didn’t have to work until 7 that night. She got out of bed at 6 AM, walking downstairs and wrapping herself in a quilt, playing some music and opening up the book she had been reading. 

       If distraction was what she was looking for, she got it. “Waverly, Dear, will you eat something, please?” Gus asked.

       She looked up at her from her book, rubbing her eyes. “I ate breakfast already,” she mumbled. That was a lie.

       “Hun, it’s 2 PM.” Her eyes widened. She hadn’t realized how much time had passed. 

       “Oh . . . I’m not hungry.” She looked back down to her book.

       Gus pursed her lips at her. “Ook,” she sighed. “Let me know if you want me to make you something.” 

       “Mm.” Gus shook her head glumly, starting a sink of dishwater. The brunette slowly lifted her eyes from her book, hearing the beginning chords of Thinking Out Loud play from her phone. She flicked the blanket around, trying to find it to change the song. Still not knowing where it was, she jumped up off the couch, laying on her stomach, feeling around under the couch for it. She felt a piece of paper, so she pulled it out to examine it. Her heart jumped up to her throat. 

       It was the contact card Nicole gave her when they first met. 

       She pushed her back against the couch, holding it in both of her hands, looking down at it. A movie reel of memories rolled through her head. She was reminded of all the beautiful things about the redhead that she had been ignoring and the wall of stubbornness she had built up crumbled. She dropped her head, closing her eyes and choking out a sob. Gus spun around. “Waverly?”

       She looked up at her. “I- I’ve got something I need to do.”

       The older woman smiled. “Do what you need to do.”

       She nodded, fumbling her hand around under the couch again, finding her phone. Gus tossed her the keys and she left out the door, climbing in her Jeep, trying to calm her breathing. She opened her phone shakily, looking at the family tracker app she and Nicole shared. She put the car in drive and directed it out of the driveway.

___

       Nicole decided it would probably be smart to clean up their mess from the party as soon as possible, so after work, she headed straight there. She plugged her earbuds in, blasted some music, and started picking up bottles, shoving them into a trash bag. 

       She was by the couch when she felt a hand touch her arm. Her heart stopped. The redhead dropped the bag, pulling her gun out of the holster as she spun around, grabbing the thought-to-be intruder by the throat and shoving the gun against their chest.