“Doc is complicated. My relationship with him is...complicated.” Wynonna sighed heavily. “He was Wyatt’s best friend. The father of my kid. God, he’s an asshole and a half when he gets in his more ornery moods. And he’s hurt me more than I could ever really explain. To anyone or even myself--Like, that’s a level of introspection that I’m never going to be comfortable with. I hate him.”

“At the end of the day I know he has my back...” 

Wynonna laughed, though there wasn’t too much humour in it. She debated just out and out lying to Pete before quickly abandoning that in favour of the truth…Most of it, anyway.

“A bit of both. He owns Shorty’s and he’s…my...” She cleared her throat and looked down at the bar top. “My...baby daddy.”

Wynonna side-eyed Doc, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Henry are you jealous?” She allowed herself a moment more of amusement before shrugging. 

{ @dochenryholliday }

Alice’s existence was in a constant state of amorphous reality to Wynonna. Not her actual existence, no. That was the one thing that she knew for sure. 

She had the stage view for that whole show so she was damn certain about that fact.

What often changed for her–in the sleepless hours where she couldn’t get her mind to stop running in fucking circles–was how Alice looked. 

Sometimes her hair was dark as Henry’s with her eyes. Others she had bright, piercing blue eyes and her naturally dark blonde hair (it had darkened as she got older. Sometimes with the help of Lady Clairol.) Then there were even times where she had somehow inherited some long dormant streak of ginger hair that could rival Haught’s hair.

“I don’t know. They change sometimes, right? I heard that somewhere. That even if they have blue eyes when they’re babies it can change as they grow up.”

Unless she managed to put down each and every Godforsaken reverent, she’d never really know, would she?