sixthiterationlogs | We the Wicked Ones

WHO: Wynonna Earp
WHERE: Wherever she can find Bobo alone.
WHEN: any time after 9/15, or at least later in the day.
OPEN TO: Bobo Del Rey
WARNINGS: Probably spoilers for WE seasons 1-early 3. Possible sensitive content about kidnapped teenage girls locked in treehouses. And language. And just general Wynonna-ness.

The second she'd heard the name Bobo Del Rey, she'd known she'd have to find him.

Now, she has. She storms into the room like she belongs there- like she has more of a right to where he is than she does.

"Bobo Del Fucking Rey," she announces herself. "Did you know? Did you fucking feed my sister to a demon? Did you have some fucking deal with Miction?"

She isn't afraid to name-drop the demon- and does it purposefully- she wants him to know she knows the name of the thing, something older and possibly more powerful than the Demon Clootie that cursed them both. Something capable of manifesting on a physical plane as a thing from HP Lovecraft's messed up wet dreams.

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His boot connects hard with one of the broken pieces of the table, sending it flying into the wall away from Wynonna. It leaves a big divot and he curses under his breath. The entire place isn't cleaned up and in perfect shape, but he's making it his.

Or he was.

That is going to take some work to fix.

"You don't know that." His voice is low, gravelly. Shoving his hand into the pockets of the long coat he wear, turning to face her though he doesn't move closer. He doesn't trust himself. "We can't know that. We can hope, and you can even pray, but we can't know that. I just know..." His voice cracks and he hates it! Hates the weakness it shows to this woman, of all people. "I know what is happening if we're wrong."

He wants her back. Desperately. Not at that price though.

"It didn't light up at all when I shot my father."

Wynonna has had a lot of time to think about all these details. To search for scraps of hope to cling to.

"And you're right. I don't know it. But I think we can both choose to believe it. And as much as I fucking hate saying this," she has to stop, pacing back and forth a few moments before actually getting the words out.

"We need to have a truce. For as long as we're here, at least. I can't break the curse without Peacemaker, without being in Purgatory. If we kill each other here, we can't help Waverly. We don't have to like each other, we don't have to talk to each other after this- and you're welcome to tell everyone here that I'm the crazy chick who ruined your chance at happiness. Fine. But we at least agree not to tear each other apart."

Bobo had been much too distracted that night to pay attention to peacemaker and how Wade's shooting had happened. After it, he's never thought to ask. Now, this though... He has so many thoughts about what it all means. Even if he can guess why the damn thing responds differently to Waverly... Why not light up for a human bastard like Wade but did for Willa.

It's all a swirling mess in his head and trying to think with her standing there is not the easiest thing. Especially as she goes on.

He turns, hands coming to rest on his hips, staring at her with a furrowed brow.

"It may amazes you, but except for mentioning Wyatt to someone who might recognize your family name? I really have put next to no thought into certain Earps in this place. I've got bigger things to worry about than if you tell others I'm a revenant."

Like the fact that the best he can tell, he's not one anymore. He's not bringing that up though.

"For one? No one is going to believe you," he points out, waggling a finger at her. He can't even get Vasquez to believe him. Not like he can prove it. "So unless you plan to go around ruining my life here? Sure. We can do that. Though you somehow manage to get that gun here and ruin this? I swear I will find ways to ensure you never get back to Purgatory. I'm sure they got a nice jail set up somewhere in those bunkers for murderers."

Not that he's sure of anything. Hell he hasn't touched them but it's worth trying.

"Fucking with each other for petty revenge is just going to fuck over Waverly in the end," Wynonna says, like it's something that it pains her to say.

"I'm not keeping any secrets, but as much as I do think we need a registry back in purgatory for creeps way to in to my sisters, I'm not going to be putting up flyers or writing any exposes," Wynonna says.

"And don't try that gaslighting shit with me again- we've been kidnapped by forces beyond our understanding, and my brand spanking new super-powers have started kicking in. I'm not exactly worried about people thinking I'm crazy, 'cause that's prettymuch the default setting around here."

He can't argue with her on that. Not that he has any plans to let her push him because of Waverly, but despite what some think, he does care about some people. Just not many. Very few not many.

He rolls his eyes. "Yeah, punish those that were sacrificed and tortured. Seems a brilliant idea, because we are totally accountable to human laws. You know, being human and all," he says, voice monotone and unamused.

"Don't start with your rules. You're just another victim of the great kidnapping plot. Here? We're equals, so play your games all you want. I don't listen to you when you're the keeper of my damn fate, I sure as fuck am not going to here."

He laughs though at that.

"They told you about the bunker and the clone theory yet? That's when crazy gets fun."

"I- honestly I don't really care about why I'm here. Or whatever crazy secrets we're supposed to uncover. I have a curse to break, and I can't do that here," says, and starts turning towards the door she burst in through.

"That's everything I needed to say. Anything you want to get in before I leave, besides the predictable insults?"

"Yeah, good luck with that. Best thing that's probably happened for anyone we care about is us not being there," he calls, not moving from where he is, and accepting

"And next time? Knock or I'll assume you're an intruder and make no apologies when I dig the grave."

"I won't be back. I believe you really think you and Willa were in love," she sounds more sad than angry when she says that. Like she'd been hoping she'd be able to lay more blame on him, to take the weight off herself.

"I hope you get to stay here. Robert Svain didn't deserve to die the way he did, and maybe he can rest here. Maybe you even deserve it, for keeping Waverly safe. But I still don't want to look at you."

And after that, he's alone again.

Edited 2018-09-25 00:49 (UTC)

We the Wicked Ones

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