the wine, the beer, the whiskey are the only things that fix me

[pacificator]

Who: Wynonna Earp & you!
What: recuperating after March-April, reaping consequences, etc
When: backdated to late April-May
Where: the Saloon (the old Post Office)

Content Warnings: Alcoholism, a little light cannibalism, others to be listed as needed

Comments

wildcarding this shit (just after tim tells him some Things)

[questioningmermaids]

There's a roiling feeling he has in him, the badge on his hip that's not his feeling particularly weighty. March's jaw is clenched as he moves forward in the snow, step after step precise and a lot quicker than he normally is. He's walking with a purpose.

His jaw unclenches to bite down hard on the toothpick between his lips, completely lacking one of his usual brightly coloured overcoats. He'd abandoned them quickly, rushing out of his cabin with an amount of alacrity that he usually only reserves for running for his life.

"Wynonna?!" He's shouting it from halfway across the street, voice unusually high. "Wynonna!"

[pacificator]

She's made sure Kate got back to Irving safely, and she's made sure Edward isn't anywhere near anyone he could hurt, accidentally or otherwise, and if she just thinks about those two facts and focuses for a moment on cleaning up the mess she made high-tailing it out of the saloon earlier, maybe she'll be able to hold it together for long enough to get through the next few hours.

...Except then she hears March shouting from outside, and she's going to open the door just as he comes storming up. Her head is still aching from the shock of Little's screams, and his bellowing only earns him an annoyed glare. "Jesus, what now?"

[questioningmermaids]

"We can start with the fact that Tim is a mess," at this point, March is all but shouldering his way into the entrance, completely ignoring that glare, "work our way up from there."

He's barely looking at the other, half glaring around the place like he's expecting to find...something. What? He doesn't know. He puts his hands on his hips and spins, finally addressing his whatever-they-are and seeing his own tired annoyance mirrored right back at him in hers.

"What the fuck?"

[pacificator]

She's forced to step back so he can come in, and she does, but not without staring after him in annoyed bewilderment. "Tim's always a mess."

Slam goes the door, and then she's turning toward him, moving at a limp thanks to the fucking alien bite on her thigh that got all opened up again during her race to the church. "Why the hell are you coming after me about it?"