602. Chapter 602

Nicole is exhausted. She’s exhausted and she’s drained and she’s terrified.

Because the girl she loves is in one of her rages, and she loves her, god, she loves every bit of her fire, but sometimes, she doesn’t know how to help.

Because sometimes, Waverly doesn’t want help.

Not from Nicole. Hell, not even from Wynonna.

Because sometimes, Waverly believes she deserves to suffer.

Nicole collapses onto the couch next to Maggie, who silently passes her a beer.

They clink their bottles. They drink. They don’t speak.

Just like the old academy days.

And, just like the old academy days, eventually they talk. They don’t look at each other, and there are long stretches of silence between their words, but they eventually talk.

“You know,” Maggie starts this time. “When Alex and I first got together, we made a bet.”

Nicole drinks deeply and grins slightly, shaking her head, gazing directly ahead. “You two always make bets.”

Maggie concedes the point by clinking their beer bottles together again and taking another long swig. “True. But we made a specific bet. That Kara was too mild-mannered, too nice, to efficiently talk her way onto a restricted-access crime scene.”

Nicole snorts. “Well, you must’ve lost that one good.”

“Yeah.”

Another long, long silence.

“My point is, they’re pretty similar, those two.”

Nicole sighs and lets her head sink down onto Maggie’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“Sunshine on the outside, hurricane on the inside,” Maggie murmurs, and Nicole nods into her shoulder.

“She always feels like she has to take care of Wynonna. Even though Wynonna’s never let anyone actually take care of her. She… it’s like she doesn’t want to ruin Wynonna’s image of her bright, happy sister. Because otherwise…”

“Otherwise Wynonna’ll blame herself. Alex too. Yeah.”

For a while, the only sound that passes between them is the occasional sigh, the occasional sip, the occasional shift in position.

Until a loud bang – the kind of bang that makes both of them draw their guns – shakes the Homestead.

They sprint as one body until they find the source, and when they do, they skid to a grateful halt.

Kara has a car – a pink car, looking suspiciously like Doc’s – strung up like a heavy bag, and Waverly has her own, human-strength bag hanging next to it.

There’s a massive dent in the car’s transmission.

A thin layer of sweat lines both of their foreheads, and neither of them have noticed their girlfriend and sister-in-law, respectively.

Kara reminds Waverly to move from her hips, and Waverly reminds Kara to straighten her wrists.

Waverly rages about the bastards that took everything from her, and Kara punches the car apart over the man who tortured Alex, the invasion that nearly took Lena from her, her own parents who let her entire planet die.

Nicole and Maggie exchange a quiet glance, slipping their guns back away, slipping themselves back away, sighing softly in relief that they’re not the only ones who’ve realized that Kara and Waverly need each other.