Reminder: all of my PR fics are aged up to college age.
Kim loves her new apartment even though it’s small and she’s not allowed to paint the walls anything other than the plain white they already are. The kitchen and living room are all one space and her bathroom is tiny, but at least the space is hers.
The gang helps her decorate, combing secondhand stores and ads online for cheap furniture and kitsch that’ll fit with Kim’s vision--which simply translates to not gross and not utterly broken when Kim factors in the money she’ll need to pay for utilities and food.
Zack shows up with an overstuffed black armchair the day after she moves in and only shrugs when she asks where he got it. He assures her it’s not stolen, and after she tries it out for the first time and realizes how crazy comfortable it is, she stops asking questions and gives him a hug.
By default it kind of becomes the place all the Rangers hang out at when they’re not training or fighting, but Kim kind of loves that too. Billy has a tendency of showing up with covered dishes of food sent over by his mom, and Kim makes a point of telling him how lucky he is every time he does. He always smiles and says “I know” and a little piece of Kim aches for her own mom she’s starting to have trouble remembering.
“I think that girl in Statistics likes you,” Jason says to Trini one day when they’re lounging in Kim’s living room.
Trini, who’s been hunched over the coffee table doing homework next to Kim, drops her pencil. “What?”
Jason leans up from his spot on the ground to rest his weight on his elbow. “The girl, the one with the blue streak in her hair. She likes you.”
Kim narrows her eyes at him, wondering if he’s teasing Trini.
“She does watch you a lot,” Billy adds, not looking up from his own notebook. “I don’t know if that means that she likes you, though.”
Zack sits up on the couch. “Dude, that’s awesome.” He reaches over to nudge Trini’s shoulder with a hand. “She cute?”
“I...” Trini’s blushes, her eyes wide as she turns to look at Kim.
Help me, the look seems to say.
Kim straightens her shoulders and rolls her eyes. “Jason, you’re just trying to distract us from homework. This is why we usually don’t invite you for study nights.”
Zack pushes his face between hers and Trini’s and points at himself. “I’ve been good though, right? I was totally being patient.”
Trini snorts and shoves him back to the couch, causing a round of chuckles to erupt. Just like that, the awkward moment is over.
Still, as they go back to finishing up their homework, Kim finds herself looking at Trini more and more out of the corner of her eye. She can’t help it though, she’s curious.
She makes a mental note to ask Trini about the girl with the blue-streaked hair when they’re alone.
*
One of the other things that becomes common at Kim’s new apartment are the nights when Trini shows up with her backpack and an awkward smile.
They don’t talk about it much, but Kim is glad that Trini knows that her place is always available--especially for nights when Trini and her mom just can’t seem to get along.
Trini shows up the night after the incident over the girl with the blue-streaked hair.
“I brought you a milkshake,” Trini says as soon as the door is opened, a tall paper cup extended in one hand.
Kim rolls her eyes and accepts the cup. “You don’t have to bring something with you every time you come over, you know.”
“I know.” Trini shrugs and gives her a lop-sided smile.
They stare at each other a moment before Kim laughs and steps back so Trini can come in. She sips at the shake as Trini passes, unsurprised to find that it’s her favorite.
“I was just watching some Netflix on my laptop. That cool?”
Trini tugs off her backpack and deposits it next to the couch. “Perfect.”
The couch is comfortable considering she’d gotten it for twenty bucks. It’d been a steal, and she hadn’t told the owner of the secondhand store that she loved that it was a ‘bright pink monstrosity’ (his words, not hers).
“What’re you watching?” Trini asks once the laptop is settled into place over their knees.
“I just started GLOW. Have you watched it yet?” Kim isn’t sure why, but she loves Netflix time with Trini. Maybe it’s because one of the only times Trini seems comfortable sharing her personal space. It’s comforting, especially now that Kim’s living on her own.
“Not yet. Looked interesting, though.” Trini squints at the screen, silently reading the synopsis.
Kim glances at her and realizes that they’re finally alone. “Actually, hey, do you mind if I ask you something first?”
Trini shrugs, still looking at the screen.
“About what Jason was saying yesterday... do you like the girl with the blue streak in her hair?”
“Jen? I mean, I don’t know. She’s nice, I guess.” Trini fidgets with the hem of her shirt.
Kim bites her lip. Trini knows the girl’s name. “So, what if she asked you out tomorrow or something? What would you do?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never... I mean, I’ve liked girls before but I’ve never really--I don’t know, Kim.”
“Wait.” Kim snaps the laptop closed and turns to her friend. “I mean, I know you told me you hadn’t really done much with a girl before, but... never? Nothing?”
Trini shifts so that her feet are pressed against the couch cushion, hugging her raised knees. She licks her lips and picks at the ripped fabric near her knee. “We moved around a lot,” she explains sullenly.
And Kim can’t explain why the answer means so much to her, or why her heart feels like it’s going to pound out of her chest. Trini’s lips are full and look soft, and it’s anathema to Kim that they’ve never been kissed.
“Hey, Trini?”
“Hm?” Trini turns to face Kim curiously.
Kim leans in before she can think.
She groans because Trini’s lips are softer than she’d imagined, and the full bottom lip she’d been staring at only moments before feels like it was made to fit between Kim’s.
Her eyes flutter open as the kiss ends. She bites her lip when she sees Trini’s pink tongue dart out to swipe at the full lower lip Kim already misses.
Kim wouldn’t mind doing that again. Immediately.
But then Trini’s clearing her throat and turning away.
“Can we watch the show now?” she asks in a strained voice.
Kim blinks and combs a hand through her hair. “Oh. Yeah, right, sure.”
As she opens the laptop back up, she wonders what the hell had come over her--and why Trini didn’t seem to like it.
“Sorry,” she mumbles as she reaches out to play. It’s high school all over again, and Kim dreads losing Trini over something... well, not stupid, but something Kim can totally deal with on her own.
Trini’s hand reaches out to cover hers, and it’s only then that Kim realizes she’s shaking.
“Hey,” Trini says in a soft voice, “I just need to... process, okay?”
“Right.” Kim nods, but she can’t look Trini in the eye.
Trini sighs. “I’ve had a crush on you pretty much since the eleventh grade, okay? I really, really need to process this.”
Kim’s head jerks up in surprise, and suddenly she’s giddy and can’t look away from Trini. “Oh. Oh! Okay!”
Trini’s hand falls away from hers as she presses play.
Only a few minutes pass when Trini reaches out to jab at the spacebar, pausing the show.
“Could you please stop grinning like an idiot, Kimberly?”
Part of this universe of the band/Gone Home AU Cherry and I will never write.
“How are you doing tonight?” Lucy’s voice crackles just slightly over the mic. She grins as the crowd cheers. There’s sweat on her face from the lights and the several songs they’ve already performed, but she looks like she’s in her element.
Kara smiles, invigorated by the crowd just as much as the band. They’re her friends, after all, and she’s always thrilled to see them perform. Alex had offered her a chair just off-stage, but Kara couldn’t bear the thought of sitting there. This is going to be one of their last performances all together, and Kara doesn’t want to be anywhere else but the front row, pressed against the wood of the stage as she watches Alex--and the rest of her friends--pour their souls into their music.
“This next song is a special rendition of a classic. My dear friend, and honestly a-fucking-mazing guitarist-slash-singer, is going to be taking the lead on this one,” Lucy steps back and gestures to her right.
Alex grins brightly at the crowd, her left hand comfortably cradling the neck of her guitar as she tugs her free hand through her sweaty hair.
Kara’s heart feels like it skips a beat. Alex is a natural on stage in her dark ripped jeans and ragged white shirt with the hand painted band logo “Super Grrls” in bright red.
“I know you’re all here for some kick-ass music, but I hope you don’t mind if we slow things down just for a minute.” Alex glances down toward Kara as she finishes speaking, offering Kara a wink.
Kara bites the inside of her cheek.
Alex begins strumming her guitar, the lights dimming until she’s alone in the spotlight.
The familiar tune makes Kara freeze, her stomach fluttering as the fingertips of her right hand flutter over the wrist of her left. The night she’d gotten the tattoo, she and Alex had found themselves alone together on the hood of Alex’s beat up old Toyota, staring up at the stars as this song had played over the radio.
It had been the night that Alex had told she was joining the Army.
“You with the sad eyes, don’t be discouraged...”
Alex abruptly shifts her weight, moving so that she’s staring intently at Kara as she sings.
“I see your true colors, and that’s why I love you. So don’t be afraid...”
Kara lips part, unable to look away. There is no doubt in her mind that Alex is singing to her.
The rest of the song passes in a haze, Kara’s mind flooding with too many thoughts. She shouldn’t be here, should never have been here--her parents think she’s off at some study group Kara had stopped going to only weeks after meeting Alex.
Alex, who’s nothing like anyone else in Kara’s world, who smiles that special crooked smile just for her.
Alex, who’s going to be leaving soon.
She’s pulled from her reverie when Lucy is suddenly speaking again, cheesing it up to the crowd as she declares that the band will be back after a short break.
The world stills around Kara, her heart pounding like crazy because she can feel Alex still looking at her, knows that Alex is going to hop off the stage at any moment and Kara isn’t ready to face that look.
The friendly crowd becomes a cloying mass, and Kara knows she needs to leave. Now.
“Sorry, sorry,” she blurts out as she turns to begin awkwardly forcing herself through the crowd.
She can hear the cries of “Kara!” just behind her, but she can’t stop.
The rickety wooden double doors part easily under the force of her sweating palms, and for that first fresh gust of air, Kara can breathe.
The doors swing shut with too much force, and Kara startles at the loud sound.
“Kara,” comes her name again, a soft whisper nearly lost in the cool breeze.
She clenches her fists at her sides, body shaking as she realizes that this, these feelings, aren’t something she can escape.
Kara can feel the warmth of Alex’s hand as it hovers over her shoulder. She expects it to land at any moment, to forcefully turn her so Alex can ask why--but instead, the warmth retreats and disappears.
Kara turns anyway.
Alex’s head is turned away, her hands tucked into her back pockets and her short hair hiding her features. “Sorry,” she mumbles in a low, rough voice.
And Kara, who’s never seen Alex as anything other than utterly than confident, is stunned.
“I’ll, uh,” Alex gestures awkwardly behind herself and combs a hand through her hair.
“Wait,” Kara intones as she reaches out to grasp Alex’s wrist. She stares down at it and bites her lip, marveling at how delicate it feels under her fingertips.
Alex stops but doesn’t say anything. Kara wishes, just briefly, that the streetlight several feet away wasn’t out because it’s hard to read Alex’s expression in the sparse moonlight.
But then her eyes adjust a little more, and she can see the slow, crooked grin that she adores forming on Alex’s face.
Kara doesn’t think about her father and mother, about the perfect life they already have all planned out for her as she steps forward and Alex’s hands settle on her hips.
The first brush of Alex’s mouth against hers is a revelation, all the times they’ve been alone with an air of something she’d never been able to define suddenly making sense. Then she can’t think about that either because Alex’s mouth is hot and intoxicating and it doesn’t seem like they can ever get close enough.
By the time the kiss--kisses--stop, Alex is pressed back up against the wall with Kara’s hands in her hair.
Kara sighs and closes her eyes, her head drooping to settle in the space between Alex’s neck and shoulder.
Alex’s arms are wrapped low and snug around her waist, pulling her minutely closer as they catch their breath.
In the moments when reality creeps in and threaten to overwhelm her with the certainty of a future she’s not sure she’s ever wanted, Kara only knows one thing.
15. A kiss because I have literally been watching you all night and I can’t take anymore.
Nicole’s face is grim as they creep around the wall, her gun lowered as she leads the way to the wide double doors.
She reaches out to the first door handle with her free hand and glances back at Wynonna.
Wynonna adjusts her grip on Peacemaker and nods.
Nicole returns the nod and takes a breath.
The metal door groans and screeches as it swings open, making Nicole hurriedly grasp her gun with both hands. She swings right as Wynonna swings left, but there’s little to see even with the evening sun filtering through the windows.
The building, thought to be long abandoned, is musty and chock-full of dust but not much else.
“Look. Something was dragged through here,” Nicole says in a low voice as she points to the floor with her chin, gun still at the ready.
Wynonna follows the gesture, eyebrows raising as she spots the clean trail that leads back to the sole room in the building. “We might have a winner after all. That’s good; I had a monologue prepared and everything.”
Nicole snorts and rolls her eyes, smiling though still not fully at ease. “Come on.”
Their footsteps seem unnaturally loud against the linoleum. Nicole’s gut clenches tighter the closer they get to the last room. The faded green of the door could hold any number of assailants waiting just behind it, waiting to spring out at them. Her eyes sting as she refuses to blink, refuses to take her attention from their goal for a moment.
Wynonna’s worked with her long enough to know the drill, and again they split as they reach the room. Their earlier procedure with the double doors is repeated; this door is locked but Nicole knows the old wood will give under the right pressure. She inhales through her nose and braces herself, leg forcefully propelling toward the precarious wood.
The door gives with the first try.
Here, Wynonna takes the lead, Peacemaker ready for the pack of revenants they’ve been hunting for the last week as Nicole checks their surroundings one last time to ensure they won’t be ambushed from behind.
Out of her periphery Nicole notices as Wynonna freezes in the doorway--her eyes are wide and she’s slack-jawed as Nicole glances directly at her.
“Nic,” Wynonna says in an odd voice as she holsters her gun, “I think you need to call this in.”
Nicole frowns and steps up behind Wynonna. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark interior. Her stomach feels like it drops down to her feet.
Huddled in the room, faces and clothes filthy from who-knows-what and eyes wide with fear, are eight children no older than eleven.
She does a quick scan, noting no other entrances and exits to the room, and holsters her own gun. She swallows and tries not to think of her own nieces and nephews, instead hunching down to make herself smaller and raising her empty hands up so they can be easily seen.
“Hey, it’s alright now. I’m Officer Haught and this is Deputy Marshal Earp. We’re here to help you.”
*
They stay with the children long after Nicole makes the call, moving them outside and settling them on some blankets Nicole pulls from the trunk of her cruiser.
The nearest hospital is forty-five minutes away, though there’s a fire station with paramedics on staff halfway between them and Purgatory.
Nicole feels unable to leave the children alone, even as Sheriff Nedley arrives at their location with two other officers and grimly begins overseeing the processing of the scene.
“I have a little sister. It’s tough being older sometimes, isn’t it?”
Wynonna’s voice finally penetrates the fog of professionalism Nicole’s been settled in to maintain her composure. She looks away from seven-year-old Steven and nine-year-old Amber long enough to discover that she’s not wrong.
Wynonna is cuddled up to four of the other children, unconcerned at how dirty the kids are, allowing them to remain close and grasp at her arms and shirt.
Though Nicole has long learned to give Wynonna the benefit of the doubt, the ease which Wynonna interacts with the children still catches her off-guard.
Wynonna is smiling down at the little girl huddled tightly into her side, and as Nicole watches, quickly glances away and wipes at her face with the back of her hand.
A lump settles in Nicole’s throat. She tries to swallow it away as the paramedics finally arrive and begin checking the children over.
She isn’t sure how much time passes as she watches over her own little group--her attention wanders over to check on Wynonna and her bunch countless times--but eventually the kids are rounded up and on their way to the hospital.
“The names will help.” Nedley’s voice is flat, and Nicole knows he’s trying to deal with what he’s seen in his own way. “You and Wynonna did good.”
“Yeah,” Nicole agrees hollowly, not feeling good at all.
Nedley reads her mood, reaching out to clap a hand over her shoulder. “Take it easy tomorrow, okay? The paperwork can wait.”
Nicole nods but she’s not looking at him. She restlessly scans the rundown area of Purgatory, seeking something she’s not certain of--until she spots Wynonna disappearing around the far side of the abandoned building.
She bids her boss a quick farewell and hurries to follow Wynonna.
When she rounds the corner she expects to find Wynonna pacing or crying or both, but instead Wynonna is quiet and still, leaning back against the building and staring up at the stars.
“You okay?” Nicole asks as she hesitantly moves closer to Wynonna.
Wynonna stares up at the stars a half-second longer. She shrugs and focuses on Nicole. “Fine.”
Nicole stops an arm’s length away from Wynonna. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, her hands awkwardly settling on her duty belt as she looks down. “Oh.”
She doesn’t know what to do; she’d been ready to comfort Wynonna, to help her try and process what they’d both seen.
“Are you okay?”
Nicole’s hands freeze. She frowns, slowly raising her eyes until she’s again looking at Wynonna. She expects Wynonna to be smiling, maybe ready to tease her or make fun of her.
Instead, Wynonna is silent and serious.
“No. I don’t think I am.” Nicole doesn’t realize the words are true until she’s uttered them.
She sweeps forward but stops just shy of touching Wynonna.
Wynonna sighs and opens her arms. She looks uncomfortable but her sincere, and Nicole sinks into the embrace without further prompting.
“They’re so small,” she whispers into the curtain of Wynonna’s hair.
Wynonna nods almost imperceptibly. “They’ll be fine. They’re young enough to recover from this.”
Nicole squeezes Wynonna tighter, not needing to ask how Wynonna knows that.
She pulls back abruptly, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“No prob,” Wynonna says with a lopsided smile and a one-armed shrug.
Nicole is about to pull back, to suggest she drive Wynonna home when she notices the way Wynonna’s lips are trembling and her blue eyes are shining a little too brightly in the moonlight.
Something tightens in Nicole’s chest, and then she’s stepping closer again and dipping her head down.
Wynonna inhales sharply against her mouth just before their lips meet--but doesn’t pull away.
Nicole closes her eyes and lets the last several horrible hours wash away; Wynonna is warm and welcoming and beckoning her body closer.
You’ve survived more than most will ever know. You’re still here—and that’s not weakness. That’s power. This short but soul-stirring video reminds you that resilience doesn’t always roar—it sometimes just quietly breathes. No need to prove anything today. Just honor your presence. Your story is one of endurance, transformation, and quiet strength. Let this message remind you of the power in simply continuing.
Take a moment for yourself—watch my videos and find the inspiration, motivation, and guidance you deserve. Your journey matters, and I'm here to help you keep moving forward! 💪✨
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