[ Not for one moment does she think the trail of blood, bright and fresh even under underwater green gloom that hangs over the world, doesn't lead to her home. Of course it does, it always does. Daddy, Willa, Waverly with that noose around her throat. Of course the violence and the death has followed her here, of course it's bared its fangs and gone, once more, for the people she cares the most about. Welcome home, Wynonna.
She'd started running at the first drops of blood, and now she's sprinting, hair flying like a flag, her heart hammering in her chest as she runs and slips on the snow and picks herself up and pushes forward again, as fast as she can up the walkway to the porch of this absurd cabin and the slumped figure there. ]
Tommy!
[ Her voice is a hoarse yell, ripped from the deepest parts of herself as she reaches him, as she falls to her knees next to him, hands reaching for his coat, his clothes, trying to see where the blood is coming from, and there's so much. There's so much of it. His shirt is soaked with it, and so are her gloves. ]
Hey. Hey. Can you hear me? Thomas— Tommy. It's me.
[ She swallows against a thick throat, a sob in her voice. No, no. She is not losing him, too. She finds the place where he's bleeding and wads cloth against it, puts pressure on it, then forces a watery smile into her voice. ]
Polar Sun
She'd started running at the first drops of blood, and now she's sprinting, hair flying like a flag, her heart hammering in her chest as she runs and slips on the snow and picks herself up and pushes forward again, as fast as she can up the walkway to the porch of this absurd cabin and the slumped figure there. ]
Tommy!
[ Her voice is a hoarse yell, ripped from the deepest parts of herself as she reaches him, as she falls to her knees next to him, hands reaching for his coat, his clothes, trying to see where the blood is coming from, and there's so much. There's so much of it. His shirt is soaked with it, and so are her gloves. ]
Hey. Hey. Can you hear me? Thomas— Tommy. It's me.
[ She swallows against a thick throat, a sob in her voice. No, no. She is not losing him, too. She finds the place where he's bleeding and wads cloth against it, puts pressure on it, then forces a watery smile into her voice. ]
I'm here. I came home. I came back to you.