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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 17:06:47 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE She touched his face and he briefly closed his eyes, taking in the sensation. The past little while, he had limited any touches to strictly training. So to feel this, tender embrace . . . was soothing. So when she wrapped her arms around him, he felt it even more. He was used to the one comforting. Offering a hug, or his arms ready to embrace another when required. But now . . . she was comforting him. He knew he did not deserve it, but he had always been selfish in this regard.
She asked him how long. How long had he been in that place. "Long enough." It had felt like an eternity but in this world, might have only been a matter of hours, or even minutes. He did not know. For he had lost track of time and anything else. Focused only on the sheer torture that was inevitable. "The fight is fixed," he added on. And he didn't even have his immortality to prolong it. He had nothing to prolong it. The day would eventually come and it seemed nothing he did in this world would alter it. "And my fate is sealed." And that, was perhaps the most terrifying thing of all; that any actions in this life, would not redeem him for the next.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 16:58:32 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE He hit his head. He . . . yes. He remembered that. But it wasn't that piece of information had left him still in place. She was touching him. Intimately. Or at least, he felt there was something intimate about it. She did not appear to be a physician checking on a patient. And she spoke to him as if she knew him. Yet the more she did, the more he looked at her . . . the more unfamiliar she was. And Doc Holliday never forgot a pretty face. Surely, he would not have forgotten hers. The attempt to process all this had him frozen in place and then . . . she hugged him. His hands did not return the embrace but rather, just stood numbly where they were. He took the opportunity to look around the area.
It was a strange room. One he had never seen the likes of before. Where the hell was he?! His hands went to her upper arms and began to carefully pull her off. "Ma'am, I appreciate you . . . taking in a wounded man." Yes. He had to at least appear grateful . . . hoping this was an act of kindness and not one of, kidnapping. Once he moved her off of him enough, he swung his legs over the bed so that they were on the ground. "But I really must be going." Where was his stuff?! His pistols? His hat? His regular clothes?! He sure as hell wasn't going to find it sitting around, so he rose to his feet, ignoring the pounding on his head. "You haven't happened to see my pistols, have you?" Did she, somehow take them? She seemed to know him . . . what was this ploy?!
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 16:52:03 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE He gave a small smile as she accepted his request, taking a seat across from him and then casually introducing herself. Wynonna. How she reminded him of Wyatt. More so than any of the other heirs. He had not failed to notice that Peacemaker wasn't at her side, but perhaps it was safely at . . . wherever she was residing. He'd gone to the Homestead already and it looked unlived in. Best guess was that she was staying with Gus.
"John," he introduced. Best stick to a generic, popular name than his well known one. 'Doc' might be a bit too alarming right now and he knew he'd have to ease her into this. If that was even possible. "Haven't seen you around," he added, filling his glass with whiskey, noticing she still had enough in her own cup. "You just passing through?" A more relevant question unlike ones that he already knew the answer to. Truth was, he wanted to try and see what her mindset was; whether she was planning on staying or just came for the funeral. He wanted to see just how much convincing he may have to do. For it was time they broke this curse once and for all.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 4:01:24 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE My, my how she was all grown up. While he hadn't known the girls well -- he had left before then -- seeing her now felt . . . well, she was damn beautiful that was for sure. He was getting ready to go up to her when he noticed her look his way. Enough that she got to her feet and approached him. For a split second, he wondered if she somehow recognized him.
But the way she walked, the expression on her face and the words that followed . . . clearly indicated that she did not. "Ma'am," he greeted, touching the rim of his hat and he sat a bit more upright. Oh if only she knew the true answer to the question. He was here for her. He was here in the bar because he owned it. But no. He knew he had to ease into things. "Perhaps waiting for a woman such as yourself," he said, meaning for it to be charming yet . . . the words held the weight of truth. "Care to join me?" He asked, extending his hand towards the seat across from him.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 3:50:12 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE The entire mood shifted and . . . not in an unwelcome way. Just, in a way that he wasn't sure how to talk about this. He seldom was able to when it came to deep conflicts and inner struggles. But when she reached out and touched him, he stilled. His hand limply holding his shirt as he made no move to put it on. His eyes upon it, not even really looking at it. She was asking for more and he needed to give that to her. Because . . . this would not be the last of it if he didn't explain it now.
After several moments of silence, still avoiding eye contact with her, he continued. "When the wish was made with the trophy and we were all trapped in a world without you . . . I died." That much was no surprise. That was oddly enough, the easy part to explain. He slowly brought his gaze to her, knowing there was more emotion in his eyes than he would have liked. But the traumatic memories, the images that kept him up at night and the fear that one day, he would return there . . . was impossible to contain in this moment. "I went to hell, Wynonna." His voice a bit unstable, hating pity and yet there was no other way to deliver this information.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 3:27:41 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE The moment that Doc had been waiting for had finally arrived. He had been waiting a few years ever since his return . . . ever since finding out that Willa was killed. The guilt had hit him hard, but Ward had not been what the other Earps were. Undeserving of the honour of such a title. Doc tried to stop him where he could, but at the end of the day . . . the man refused to let him interfere. Refused his help. And once he found out he was talking to Bobo Del Rey, Doc knew he was too fargone.
So he had left, swearing to return when Willa was of age to be the heir. But, when he returned . . . nothing was as expected. He'd learned of what happened to the Earps, and it broke his heart to see the family end up in such a way. He'd learned of Wynonna's history, yet wanted to see her and get to know her. He wanted to hold faith that they would be better than Ward. That they would make Wyatt proud and perhaps, even end this curse. So, in true Earp fashion, he knew that Wynonna would come here. Which was why he was just sitting in the shadows, waiting for her to enter and it had only taken a couple hours before she did. Seeing her all grown up, brought a smile to Doc's lips and all he could do for the time being, was watch her.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 3:10:11 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE She continued to provoke him. Continued to push him. In ways that he did not want to be pushed right now. He hated that he knew her so well . . . and loved it at the same time. To let himself be known to another, to the woman he loved . . . usually, it was a good feeling. But in this moment, it was backfiring. He didn't want her to know about what had happened. But there was only so long he could continue on this path before she got it out of him.
Little did he realize, that that time would be now. For she had said the words that caused him to break. Words that he knew was a casual insult to another, but ones quite literal to him. The triggering point of where he had been, what he had endured. She thought this about Alice. It wasn't. Not entirely. It was about the very place that she told him to go to . . . and that broke him. He sharply turned, his hand waving to the few bottles of drink aggressively enough to have them smash against the other side of the wall. He didn't even feel the pain it inevitably caused in his wounded hand.
"Well then it's a good thing that I have already been there!" He snapped in the less of a second after smashing the bottles. No. He hadn't meant to say it. He hadn't wanted her to know at all. He'd been carrying this quiet for all this time . . . but now that the words were out there, he could not take them back.He had gone to hell, he thought numbly, his chest slowly heaving from the emotion, fighting back the fear, and avoiding eye contact with her. "So I guess I won't be getting over it." The latter words bitter, as he attempted to side step her again and go for his shirt.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 3:00:21 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE A wagon with no horses? He wished that the most ridiculous thing she had said. But sadly, it was not. She had said more strange things than that, and the strange things just kept going. Talking about the future, and bringing up this . . . Juan Carlo man again. Who the hell was he? Was he supposed to no him? No. Doc surely would have remembered; he liked to pride himself in having a good memory. And then she said they were friends.
That would explain the familiarity . . . but no! This was all utter nonsense! He could hardly entertain it. Yet she seemed so, adamant in her belief in all this. "Well Ma'am. While this has been a very . . . enlightenin' conversation--" He was trying to be polite but there was some sarcasm there. "I am afraid I must depart. But before I do, I just have one more question. Why is it that you are so interested in Wyatt Earp?" Because that was the takeaway here. In all the craziness that she talked about, he just needed to make sure that no harm would come to his friend. That she truly did not pose to be a threat . . . maybe she was just a fan of him. Maybe she was sweet on him. Whatever the reason, he needed to know that once he stepped out of this room, Wyatt was still a safe man.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 2:48:58 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE She was pushing it and pushing it and . . . she tossed his shirt behind her, taunting him. Normally, he would have welcomed the taunts and returned them. Normally when they were this heated, they would argue. Walk away and then know that everything was ok. But this time, he knew his mind was unstable. Too unstable to have this conversation right now. He didn't even know what the conversation to be had was.
She brought up Alice it and felt the sting of it . . . not that it was ever truly gone. A constant throbbing, knowing she must feel the same way about the departure of their daughter. Lie about it. He had to lie about this, all of it? What good would telling the truth be other than getting sympathetic looks from the others. Sad gazes of remorse and pity. He did not want that. He needed to leave. "Get out of my way," he demanded, his voice unnervingly calm. The calm before the storm. But it was her last words that had him snap a little more . . . closing to that brink of breaking. "Damn it woman, get the hell out of my way." She needed to move, or he would move her. Shirt or no shirt.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 2:39:44 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE This woman was living proof that you didn't need a gun to fire. Words could hit hard just like bullets. Because with what she was saying . . . Doc was attempting to process. She knew things about him. Personal things. Very personal things. Things that he had never told anyone, except for Wyatt. Things that were difficult for him to even vocalize. She knew his mother's name. She knew his inner, strongest fear. He'd noticed that there was a way she spoke to him that made it seem as if she knew him, but never would he have thought it was to this extent.
He felt numb, frozen in place, his hand casually rested on his gun but then, it had been there for some time, before she started spouting out. When she first mentioned Wyatt's name. Now, she may still be a threat, but she was a knowledgeable one. He didn't talk about his mama with anyone . . . least of all was he going to do so with a woman in pants. The bit about dying . . . he knew he could justify with word spreading. But the other parts; they were far too personal. So he just stayed quiet, trying to take all this information in while he felt his head spin from it. No. This wasn't right. None of this was right. And yet only one question fled his lips . . . probably the most irrelevant one of them all. "What is a truck?"
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 2:31:42 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE She was pushing him. She knew it. He knew it. Trying to get a reaction out of him and if anyone knew how . . . it would be her. They knew how to push each other's buttons a little too well. But instead of walking towards her and doing so -- not that he even considered it -- he turned away again and took another long drink. Yes. He was angry. Yes, he didn't talk unless he was . . . and didn't touch her unless they were here. The fact that she noticed these things didn't surprise him.
But, he also didn't know how to resolve it. The one person that he always wanted to be near, and now . . . someone he in a way, was trying to avoid. Not because he wanted to either. "And what do you think that is going to achieve?" Hitting her wasn't going to get him out of hell. It wasn't going to bring their daughter back. No. Hitting her would not solve a damn thing nor did he have the desire to do so. He needed to leave. Because if she kept provoking him, everything was going to boil over to the surface. "We are done." For today. And with that, he put the whiskey bottle back on the shelf and going to grab his shirt.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 2:06:00 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE Knowing it was rude of him to face away from her, he quickly tucked his blood soaked fabric back in his pocket and turned to look at her once more -- no matter how, outrageous this entire scenario seemed. She said she wasn't drunk, and he believed her. Mainly because while she was odd, her behaviour did not indicate as such. Nor did he smell any alcohol from her breath.
It might have been better if she was drunk though. Would have made this all make a whole lot more sense. She then spoke of how she was sent here . . . on a spirit guide. A . . . what now? But it was the name that captured his interest. The name of someone that he would die protecting. "What about him?" He immediately question, his protective nature of the man suddenly raising all guards. She said she was here to learn about him . . . why? "Who sent you?" He questioned. They were in a dangerous line of work so if she posed a potential threat -- for Doc was not one to underestimate anyone -- then he would eliminate it as soon as possible.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 1:58:02 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE Win. She spoke of winning. There was no winning, in any of this. In this life, nor the next. What was the point? Every futile step towards redemption. Every attempt made to take the moral high ground. It was all for not. Because either way, he was going to the same place she sent murderous, vile creatures. He felt, defeated.
So no, there was no win. Not in any situation. When she moved to a stand and told him to hit her, he dragged himself up and went over to where there was a bottle of whiskey, taking several gulps of it. Turning his head to glance at her, seeing that she was in position . . . he wasn't sure he had any more training left in him. "Why? Not like I can." He was not one to carry a defeatist attitude. Hell, he was usually the one encouraging Wynonna. But right now, every just felt utterly pointless. So instead of trying to hit her, he just took another swig of the drink.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 1:30:06 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE Doc savoured every touch, every caress, on her skin or his . . . knowing that they didn't get to do this often. That they did not allow themselves to. But when they did . . . damn. It felt glorious -- to say the least. His lips continued to move against hers as she parted them to speak of when he called her a prostitute. The memory brought forth a smile of amusement to his lips.
He remembered it well. Their first conversation. The beginning of it all. He kissed her deeply again before responding with his own tease. "Just as you wasted no time in recognizing that I was just your type." Granted, it may not have been their first conversation but it was among the first few, and how he liked hearing it. With that, his hands moved under her legs, and adjust them, so that her back was once again on the bed and he was on top of her, fingers moving to her underwear so he could start to pull it down, bending her knees to slide it off with ease.
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Greatest Gunslinger that ever lived
"How do you like
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Post by Doc Holliday on Apr 10, 2020 1:21:45 GMT
darlin' I'M EVERYBODY'S TYPE She both answered his question and did not. She didn't quite explain who 'they' were other than referring to them as children and well, it was rather concerning that little children would mark a remark on a woman's ass. Seemed they weren't raised proper. But, he decided to avoid opening that subject and instead, focused next on her name. Which, wasn't any easier to focus on. Seemed that every answer she gave was . . . a peculiar one. And still, there was something about her. Still something that intrigued him instead of just excusing himself from a possibly unwell woman. In the head anyway. And that intrigue only grew when she said that he was all she had.
"Well Ms . . . " He paused for a brief moment before continuing. "Earrmendorf." What a strange name indeed but alas, who he was to judge. "I am not sure what you believe I can do for you. But there may be others better suited for the job." She still spoke to him as if she knew him and he still didn't understand why. "But as I said, far be it from me to keep from helping a woman in need. So what is it you feel the need to tell me?" In that moment, he felt it coming. He pulled out a hankerchief, and turned his head as he coughed repeatedly into it. He knew that he didn't have a whole lot longer, and it was part of the reason he wasn't entirely certain how much use he could be to her. Not that that had ever stopped him before.
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