Seventh 2 Survive (WAYHAUGHT)

34-0.5

Had the scientist's assistant taken lessons in diplomacy, she might have won over Waverly. It wasn't that Waverly wanted to be important. She didn't. She just didn't want to be the reserve to another Earp, second to this Kevin. She'd been that enough times with a sister like Wynonna. Not that she was. It just felt like that. And, with everything else going on.

Nicole stood beside her as they gazed across the Loch. "We best be going," she said, picking up a stone, casting it out over the water. It landed with a plop.

"I guess."

It had been Waverly's decision to leave. Whatever the assistant had discovered, whatever she could achieve by bringing the bees back, Waverly no longer wanted that responsibility. Life was too short, too many others had fucked up before her, for this to be on her to resolve. And, let's face it, a few bees were hardly going to magically make everything all right.

Wynonna was surprised to see them when she opened the door. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

Waverly hugged her sister, letting the tears fall. Thankfully, the news of her arrest for Wheeler's murder hadn't reached the homestead. Her disappearance from the police station would remain a mystery, especially after the footage of her vanishing into thin air also mysteriously went missing, police deciding a cover-up was better than trying to explain the unexplainable. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, neither Waverly nor Nicole revealing to Wynonna what they knew about the future this time, a sadness in their eyes the only clue as to what lay ahead.

Studies at Oxford abandoned, a small farmstead purchased, Waverly's dream of running one realised, both should have been blissfully content. Neither were. Haught toiled day after day to make Waverly happy. Waverly made cakes, disinfected water, and made sure the freezer was stocked with chocolate ice cream. And yet, neither could shake off the gloom which came with knowing the world they were striving so hard to maintain would one day be reduced to nothing more than dust, and bean husks. Nor did they want to be blanked. As painful as it was to know what lay ahead, neither wanted to forget.

When Waverly wasn't baking, she was googling articles on climate change, or posting her opinions anonymously, praying the world would take notice. Every day she would wake up, check her inbox, resign herself to the long fight, even if what she was doing was futile, a whisper into the wind.

No one seemed to be taking notice. There were moments when she contemplated using time travel to wake everyone up, of casually materialising inside the Oval office, of explaining to the current President the future of the planet rested on his shoulders, as it did on the shoulders of everyone. And, every day she stopped herself from suggesting to Nicole she go speak to those in power. And, every day weighed more heavily on her heart.

And then, Nicole's nosebleeds increased, and then came the headaches, which left her bedridden. Nicole remained stoic, but Waverly could tell she was worried.

Nicole put it down to having run out of yellows. Waverly knew she was lying to protect her. She always knew when she was. She knew something was wrong, very wrong. Forced to call a doctor, the prognosis was advanced aging, neither admitting as to why this might be happening.

And one morning arrived, the one Waverly had been praying would not. Nicole lay sleeping, her features that of a person in their early thirties, her organs that of someone in their nineties. Their relationship had been one of acceptance these past months, both trying to navigate what was to be their new fate, Waverly often to be found crying at Wynonna's kitchen table.

It would be that morning when Waverly finally revealed to her sister their fantastic story. As much as Wynonna believed her, there were moments she would rather not have known. "I can't lose her," Waverly said, cupping a full glass of whiskey. "She's all I have."