double trouble

by sophyy_earp

Summary:

What if the Earp gang accidentally ends up in the year 2005 and run into 16 year old Wynonna Earp…?

Chapter 1

Shorty’s is quiet for once, so quiet it is almost unsettling. No Revenants, no gunfights, no cursed artifacts rolling across the floor. Just Wynonna, Doc, Waverly, and Nicole clustered around a table, enjoying a moment of something dangerously close to normal.
Which, naturally, doesn’t last.

“Okay, what the hell is that?” Nicole asks, pointing to the counter where a dusty, old-looking porcelain bowl sits. None of them remember it being there before.

It is white, well, maybe it has been white at some point, now the color of old paper and forgotten bones. Around the rim, tiny carvings spiral in tight patterns. In the very center sits an engraving of a clock. Not a fancy mystical one, either. Just a clock. Like something you’d find hanging in a dentist’s office.
Waverly approaches first because of course she does. “It looks ancient,” she murmurs, brushing some of the dust off. “But… the clock dial is modern. That’s weird.”

“Weird?” Wynonna scoffs. “Waverly, it’s a bowl with a clock. That’s not weird, that’s a magical cereal bowl. Bet it keeps Lucky Charms crunchy for eternity.” She taps it twice like she is testing a melon. “Behold: the Bowl of Breakfast Preservation.”

Doc raises a brow. “Darlin’, I have seen many cursed objects in my time but none quite so-….”

He doesn’t finish.
Because the bowl pulses.
Literally. Like a heartbeat.
And then….

FLASH.

A blast of white light swallows the bar, the walls, the air, and all four of them. Wynonna’s scream is the most dignified of the group, mainly because she doesn’t have time to come up with something clever.
The world yanks sideways.
Then drops them.

Nicole is the first to speak. “Okay. Show of hands. Who else thinks Wynonna jinxed us?”

Wynonna groans into the ground. “For the record, jokes should not be grounds for magical punishment.”

Waverly stands, dusting off her jeans. “Everyone okay?”

“Not my first abrupt relocation,” Doc says, brushing off his coat with dignity he absolutely does not possess in that moment.

They look around. The townscape is familiar but… off. Buildings look younger. Newer. Wrong.

Nicole squints at something nailed crookedly to a nearby bulletin board. “Hey-…hold up.”

She walks over and rips free a paper calendar, the kind you only see in old movies or your grandma’s kitchen.
At the top, in faded blue ink: MARCH 2005

Nicole blinks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Waverly freezes beside her. “Oh no.”

Wynonna stares blankly. “What’s wrong? Did we get teleported to tax season?”

“We’re in the past, Wynonna!” Nicole snaps. “This says 2005! And I don’t know how reliable time-magic bowls are, but it seems pretty clear that-…”

Wynonna waves her off, trying not to look concerned at all. “Yeah, okay, relax. Time travel Tuesday. That’s Purgatory, Haught Wheels. Get it together.”

Nicole opens her mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. She turns to Waverly. “Your sister is impossible.”

Waverly shrugs helplessly. “Trust me, I’ve known her longer.”

But Wynonna is already scanning the area. “Calendar or no calendar, we need the magic cereal bowl to un-teleport ourselves. So let’s find it before this turns into some kind of Back to the Future paradox where I accidentally make out with my own parents…” She looks at Waverly. “…or yours… again.”

“Wynonna!” Waverly shouts.

“What? I’m just saying, it happens more often than you’d think… in time-travel movies.” Wynonna stands, boots crunching gravel. “Whatever. Fine. We find the stupid bowl and get home before dinner. Easy.”

Except nothing in Wynonna Earp’s life is ever easy. Because as they round the corner near the old high school parking lot, they stop dead in their tracks.

Sitting on a low concrete wall, cigarette dangling from her lips, legs crossed in ripped black jeans and a leather jacket patched within an inch of its life, is a sixteen-year-old Wynonna Earp. Her hair is longer. Her frame a bit smaller, wirier. Her posture screams defiance and loneliness all at once. And she has not yet perfected the present-day blend of swagger and pain. This Wynonna is all raw edges.

Nicole’s mouth drops open. “Holy crap.”

Doc stares like he is seeing a ghost. “That is…”

“Me,” Wynonna finishes quietly.

They watch her in stunned silence. Young Wynonna doesn’t notice them, too busy flicking ash into something beside her.

Something white.
Something porcelain.

Waverly gasps. “Is that-…?”

“ THE BOWL!” Wynonna whisper-shouts.

The magical, time-warping bowl is currently serving as sixteen-year-old Wynonna Earp’s makeshift ashtray.

Present Wynonna’s eye twitches. “Oh, come on! I know I was a disaster at that age, but an artifact ashtray? That’s low even for teen me.”

Waverly grabs her arm. “Wait. Wynonna. If we approach her, we might mess up the timeline. What if she recognizes you? What if this changes something important?”

“They wouldn’t let me run for president anyway,” Wynonna says, shaking her off. “We need the bowl. And I’m not letting Baby Me sprinkle Marlboro ashes into our only ticket home.”

Doc nods. “We must retrieve it. With care.”

Nicole sighs. “This is going to go terribly.”

Waverly looks between them, clearly torn. And then she exhales in defeat. “Okay. Fine. But be careful. Don’t tell her too much. Don’t reveal anything personal. Don’t-….”

Wynonna is already striding forward.

“-or just ignore me entirely. That works too.”

The three of them exchange a collective, doomed sigh and then follow Wynonna toward her sixteen-year-old self.
They stop a few feet away from the teenage version of Wynonna, who is flicking ash into the mystical time-travel cereal bowl like it owes her money. She doesn’t look up right away. She’s too busy brooding at the pavement like it personally wronged her.

Present Wynonna clears her throat.

Young Wynonna glances up, instantly suspicious. Her eyes narrow. “What.”

Not hello, not who are you, not even do you have a light. Just what. Sharp and defensive, like the word is a shield.

“Hi!” Waverly blurts, way too cheerful. “Um…nice… evening?”

“It’s three in the afternoon.” Young Wynonna deadpans.

Waverly freezes. “Right. Yes. Totally what I meant.”

Nicole steps in, trying to look authoritative but approachable. Cop mode, but friendly cop mode. “We were actually hoping we could talk to you about that bowl.”

16 year old Wynonna holds it closer. “My ugly ass ashtray? Why do you care about it, deputy ginger spice”

Present Wynonna chuckles and grins at Nicole, clearly amused by seeing her younger self also giving Nicole a hard time. “Good one. But that’s not an ashtray, kid. It’s-….well, long story, but we kind of need it back.”

“No,” Young Wynonna says immediately.

Present Wynonna blinks. “You didn’t even think about it!”

“I did,” the teenager replies. “I thought no.”

Doc attempts diplomacy. “Young miss, that object is of great importance to us-….”

“Cool, grandpa” Wynonna Jr. interrupts. “Still mine.”

Present Wynonna folds her arms. “Okay, listen. You don’t want that bowl. It’s dusty, old, and probably cursed.”

Young Wynonna shrugs. “So am I.”

Present Wynonna winces. “Wow. Mood. But-…seriously, we just need it for a minute.”

“Nope,” Young Wynonna says again, popping the ‘p.’ “If you want it, I want something in return.”

Waverly’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want… compensation?”

The teenager leans back against the concrete wall, flipping the cigarette and throwing it on the ground, right in front of Nicoles feet, clearly trying to make some ‘anti cop’ statement. “You guys are weird. You show up out of nowhere, you look like you walked out of a thrift store explosion, and you want my ashtray? Yeah, you’re paying up.”

Present Wynonna puts her hands on her hips. “Okay, what do you want? Money? Snacks? Pack of gum? Because I’m gonna be real with you, we’re on a time crunch.”

Her younger version stares at her deeply. “Information….and yeah money won’t hurt either”

“Information? Like what?” Waverly asks, instantly alarmed.

“Like,” the teen says slowly, eyes sharp and far too perceptive, “who the hell you people are.”

Nicole mutters under her breath, “Great. Now we have the answer to whether you were always so stubborn, Earp.”

Present Wynonna kicks Nicole’s boot lightly. “You’re not helping.”

But young Wynonna hears it.
She straightens, eyes narrowing even further. “Earp?”

Everyone freezes.

Waverly mouths silently: No no no no no….

16-year old Wynonna stands from the wall, bowl tucked protectively against her ribs. “How do you know my name?”

Present Wynonna tries not to panic. Her jaw stretches into a painfully forced smile. “Ha! Funny story! Really funny, actually…like pee your pants funny, depending on your bladder strength and sense of humour-…”

The teenager steps closer, studying all four of them, gaze lingering a second too long on the adult Wynonna’s familiar cheekbones.

“Do I… know you?” She asks slowly.

Present Wynonna’s eyes widen.
Waverly’s heart drops.
Nicole silently curses.
Doc looks between them all, deeply unhelpful.

Young Wynonna tilts her head, frowning as she peers into Wynonna’s face, nose scrunched like she’s trying to place a memory.

“You look…” she begins.

Present Wynonna panics. She sticks her hands out in front of her face like jazz hands. “OLD! I look old- but hot eh?! I moisturize poorly! And life is stressful! Anyways, bowl please!”

But teenager Wynonna is not buying it. Not even the tiniest fraction of it. Her eyes go wide, not with recognition, but with realisation.

“You guys know me.”

Waverly squeaks, “Nope! No! Not at all!”

“You totally do,” young Wynonna says, clutching the bowl tighter.

Nicole sighs, defeated. “This is going great.”

“Tell me who you are,” she demands, taking a step back “or you’re never getting this thing.”

They all stare at each other.

Present Wynonna groans. “Ugh. I hate dealing with me.”

Nicole snorts. “Imagine how the rest of us feel.”

“Not helping, Haught Wheels,” Wynonna growls.

“You’re a lot but we love you” Waverly says diplomatically.

Wynonnas younger version clears her throat loudly, tapping the bowl, their bowl, against her palm like she’s ready to shatter it just to spite them.

“Okay, since you’re all done with the group therapy session,” she says flatly, “how about you tell me who the hell you are and why you know my name?”

Present Wynonna sighs. “Right. Fine. Whatever. Cards on the table.”

Nicole winces. “Wynonna… are you sure?”

“No,” Wynonna says bluntly. “But we’re running out of options, and she’s clearly not going to hand over the bowl just because we asked nicely.”

Doc nods in agreement. “Honesty may be our best approach, given the circumstances.”

Young Wynonna narrows her eyes. “You know… for people who want something from me, you’re being really vague.”

Present Wynonna gestures to herself with both thumbs. “Okay, kid. Deep breath. Because this is about to sound cracked-out even for Purgatory. I’m Wynonna.”

Her younger self just stares at her.

Present Wynonna continues, slowly and clearly, “Wynonna Earp. You. Me. Same person. From the future. Time travel. Magic bowl. Blah blah cosmic nonsense.”

Silence.

Chapter 2

Nicole winces again. Waverly offers a small, hopeful smile. Teenage Wynonna blinks once. Twice.
Then bursts out laughing. Hard.
It’s sharp, wheezing, almost painful laughter but she can’t stop. She clutches her stomach like she’s going to fold in half.

“You-….” the teen wheezes, pointing at Present Wynonna, “…-are not-….me. No way. Nope. Absolutely not.”

Present Wynonna crosses her arms. “Wow. Rude.”

“I mean, look at you!” Wynonna Jr. continues, still laughing. “You’re old!”

Present Wynonna’s jaw drops. “Okay, first of all, rude again. Second, I’m not that old. I’m barely thirty”

“Well…mid thirties,” Nicole replies.

Present Wynonna glares. “You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“We don’t even sleep together!” Nicole protests.

“Couch. Haught. You’re on it.”

Young Wynonna waves dismissively. “No. No way you’re me. You dress like a biker aunt. You talk weird. You hang out with a cowboy, a way too tall redheaded cop, and a girl who looks like she stepped out of a college brochure.”

“Hey!” Waverly protests. “I do not-…okay maybe a little.”

The teenager squints harder. “And time travel? With an ashtray cereal bowl? Really? That’s your angle? You couldn’t even go with something normal? Like… government experiment? Weird cult? Accidental drug trip?”

Present Wynonna pinches the bridge of her nose. “Kid, I wish any of those were less believable than the actual truth.”

Young Wynonna holds up a finger. “Okay, lady-who-claims-to-be-me-from-the-future, if you’re me… prove it.”

Nicole groans softly. “Here we go.”

Doc lifts a finger. “Young miss, I assure you, we mean you no harm. We merely seek-….”

“Proof or get lost!” young Wynonna interrupts.

Present Wynonna groans. “God, I was such a brat.”

“You still are,” Nicole mumbles.

“STILL not helping, Haught.”

Waverly steps forward carefully, hands raised in a gentle please-don’t-run-or-stab-us motion. “Okay. Proof. Wynonna… young Wynonna… look, I know this is weird. But there are things only you would know about yourself.”

The teen skeptically lifts a brow.

Waverly swallows. “When you were nine, you got that scar on your left knee because you tried to skateboard off the barn roof after Jesse dared you. You told everyone you fell feeding the chickens because Dad was furious.”

Young Wynonna stiffens.
Waverly presses on, voice softening. “And when you’re upset, you do that thing where you rub your thumb against your finger like you’re flicking ash, even if you’re not smoking. You’ve done it since you were little.”

Young Wynonna glances quickly at her own hand, currently doing exactly that.

Her eyes sharpen. “Okay. So you know some stuff. That doesn’t prove anything except that you’re all creepy and probably stalkers.”

Present Wynonna sighs loudly. “Perfect. Love that for us.” She steps forward. “Fine. You want something only you would know? Something I would never tell anyone else?”

Young Wynonna crosses her arms, bowl tucked defensively under one elbow. “Yeah. Try me.”

Waverly tenses. Nicole gives Wynonna a please be careful look. Doc folds his hands solemnly. Wynonna inhales slowly.

“You’re terrified of the dark.”

Young Wynonna scoffs, instantly defensive. “What? No I’m not.”

Present Wynonna doesn’t blink.
“Not because it’s dark,” she continues. “You’re scared of what happens when it gets quiet.”

Something flickers across Young Wynonna’s face, quick, involuntary.

Wynonna goes on, words painfully gentle.
“Because quiet means you’re stuck with your own head. And your own head?” She gives a humorless laugh. “It’s loud. Mean. Won’t shut up about every mistake you’ve ever made.”

Young Wynonna stops breathing for a heartbeat.

“You hate bedtime,” Present Wynonna says softly. “Hate it. You’d rather pick a fight, sneak out, sleep in the damn barn, anything than have to lie in that room alone with your thoughts.”

Waverly’s eyes soften. Nicole’s expression cracks with recognition. Doc lowers his gaze in respect. Wynonna’s voice falls even quieter.

“So every night, every single night, you sleep with the radio on.”

Young Wynonna’s shoulders jerk, like someone hit a nerve she didn’t know was exposed.

“Not music,” Present Wynonna adds gently. “Not talking. Just… static. White noise. The kind that fills up the empty places so you don’t have to listen to yourself think.”

The teen freezes. She looks like someone pulled the ground out from under her but told her to pretend she’s fine. Her grip tightens around the bowl like it’s the only solid thing left.

“How… how would you-….?” she tries, voice cracking, throat tight. “Nobody knows that.”

Wynonna gives a sad little shrug.
“Yeah. I know. Because I never told anyone either.”

“But…” the teen whispers, trying desperately to rebuild her armor. “But that-…That could just be-…you could’ve-… You’re probably just….really observant.”

It’s a terrible cover.
But it’s the only one she has.

Doc murmurs, “Stubbornness is indeed a family trait.”

Present Wynonna throws her hands up.
“Oh COME ON! You think I guessed the brand of trauma that keeps you up at night?!”

Young Wynonna hugs the bowl closer, retreating behind sarcasm and suspicion like a shield.
“Well… maybe! You don’t know me!”

The older Wynonna points directly at her.
“I am you!”

“…Still don’t believe you,” she mutters, because Wynonna Earp would rather die than admit she’s shaken.

Present Wynonna looks ready to scream into the void. “Unbelievable. I cannot believe how annoying I was.”

Young Wynonna fires back instantly: “Then imagine how I feel!”

Chapter 3

Waverly steps forward, soft and careful.
“Wynonna… think about it. The scar. The radio. The way she talks. Doesn’t any of it make sense?”

The teen opens her mouth, then closes it again. A long, stubborn silence. Then finally, with a tiny crack in her voice she mumbles
“…Maybe.”

Wynonna throws her hands in the air. “THANK YOU.”

Young Wynonna scowls. “Don’t get excited. I said maybe.…Okay. If you are me from the future… then… like… why are you here? What’s with the ugly bowl?”

Present Wynonna points at it dramatically.
“That thing? That… that is a time-traveling cursed cereal dish from hell.”

Nicole adds “We accidentally activated it.”

Waverly gives her sister a look “Wynonna couldn’t keep her hands off it”

Doc bows slightly. “And thus, we arrived in your era.”

Young Wynonna stares at the bowl, then at them. “Fine. you’re from the future, tell me some future stuff. Real stuff.”

Waverly chuckles awkwardly. “I mean… some of it is personal…”

“GOOD. That makes it better.”

Present Wynonna groans. “Oh, great. I forgot how nosy I was.”

Young Wynonna points at Waverly.
“So you’re all grown up now babygirl. Do you have a good life? Are we close?”

Waverly blinks slightly weirded out by hearing a 16 year old call her babygirl. “Me?”

“Yeah. What does your future look like?”

Present Wynonna hesitates. “Uh… well… she… uhhhh… ends up dating someone.”

Young Wynonna gasps dramatically.
“Dating?!?! A BOY?”

Nicole coughs. Waverly turns pink. Present Wynonna smirks.

“Not exactly. We thankfully got rid of Champ” Present Wynonna says, earning a approving nod from Nicole. “More like… a girl.”

Young Wynonna’s eyes grow even wider.
“A GIRL?! WAVERLY?! No. Way. WAVERLY?!”

Waverly’s blush intensifies but she nods smiling a little. “It’s not….I mean…. It wasn’t planned-….”

Nicole awkwardly lifts a hand. “Uh. Hi.”

Young Wynonna stares between them. “…YOU?!?!”

Nicole winces. “Yeah me. What’s wrong with that?” She looks at Wynonna, and mumbles “please don’t tell me your younger self was homophobic” but before Wynonna could answer, young Wynonna points at Nicole with wide eyes.
“You’re the cop? Waverly ends up dating a COP?!”

“Technically sheriff, but yes.” Nicole adds but is interrupted by the teen once more.

Young Wynonna turns to Waverly with a hint of betrayal in her eyes. “You date a COP?!!”

Waverly covers her face half embarrassed half laughing. “god please stop yelling.”

Young Wynonna turns back to older Wynonna. “Okay. Fine. One thing checks out. Cop girlfriend. That’s wild.”
The teenager swings her attention toward Doc. “And what about you, cowboy? What’s your deal?”

Doc gives a polite little bow, eyes twinkling. “I… ride with your older self, as it were.”

Young Wynonna squints suspiciously.
“You mean you ride with her… or you RIDE with her?”

Present Wynonna chokes. “OH MY GOD-…WE DO NOT NEED TO-…”

Doc smiles slow.

Young Wynonna smirks, eyebrow raised.
“So older me bags a hot cowboy. Not bad for future me.” She high fives herself still grinning.

Present Wynonna glares at Doc.
“Stop ENCOURAGING her.”

Doc looks far too pleased. “I have done nothing, darling”

Young Wynonna steps closer to him, eyes narrowed but… evaluating.
“So… you and me. Huh?”

Doc clears his throat, adjusting his coat.
“The version of you I know is… formidable.”

Young Wynonna grins.
“I mean, obviously.”

Present Wynonna groans loudly and gently pushes her younger self back to where she was standing just a moment ago. “I’m gonna die. I’m literally watching myself flirt with my boyf-….doc. This is a nightmare.”

Young Wynonna shrugs.
“Hey, he’s cute. We have good taste, that helps your case.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Wynonna, please don’t flirt with… yourself’s future boyfriend.”

Nicole mutters, “This timeline is a disaster.”

Young Wynonna finally sighs and looks at the bowl, then at the group, really looking this time.

“…Okay,” she says quietly. “If you’re really me… and you’re Waverly…”
She hugs the bowl to her chest once more.
“….Then I guess you need this back to… time-warp yourselves to old-people future-land.”

Present Wynonna blinks.
“…Wait. Are you-…Are you actually believing us?”

Young Wynonna exhales sharply.
“I don’t WANT to. But… yeah. I think I kinda do.”

Present Wynonna’s face softens, only for a second. Then her voice cracks into a tease.
“Took you long enough.”

Young Wynonna fires back, “Shut up, future me.”

Nicole lets out a snort-laugh she immediately pretends she did not make.

Young Wynonna holds up the bowl.
“So. What do we do now?”

Present Wynonna sighs.
“Well… now we figure out how to get this stupid bowl to send us home.”

Young Wynonna smirks.
“And you promise you’ll come back someday and tell me the rest of the future?”

Present Wynonna shakes her head. “Absolutely not. Timeline.”

Young Wynonna rolls her eyes.
“Ugh. future me sucks. You’re all about rules and timelines. I swear you almost sound like a cop”

Present Wynonna grins.
“You have NO idea.”

Young Wynonna taps the bowl with her fingernail like she’s checking a watermelon for ripeness.
“So, once I hand it over you just disappear?”

Waverly shrugs “I hope so”

Doc tilts his head at the bowl. “The object responded to contact earlier. Perhaps it requires similar activation. Though I do not recall any intentional… ash-flicking.”

Young Wynonna shrugs. “Well, you’re welcome. I preheated it for you.”

Present Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Hand it over.”

The teen hesitates, not out of fear, but more Wynonna-stubbornness. “…What if it doesn’t work?” she asks, quieter than expected. “What if you’re stuck here? Like… forever?”

Waverly steps forward first, her voice soft but steady. “Then we’ll deal with it together. We always do.”
Nicole nods, crossing her arms with a brave-but-not-brave face.
Present Wynonna sighs, dramatic and put-upon. “Then we deal with it. But I swear, if I have to hang around long enough to watch Teenage me in the wild, the universe owes me hazard pay and so much whiskey for handling it.”

Nicole snorts. “Please. You can barely handle adult you.”

Wynonna points at her without looking.
“COUCH, HAUGHT.”

Young Wynonna finally extends the bowl toward them.
The moment Present Wynonna reaches for it young Wynonna pulls it back against her chest. “WAIT!” Her eyes spark with mischief.
“One more question.”

Present Wynonna groans, head back. “Oh my GOD, child, I swear-…”

Young Wynonna points between Doc and Nicole and Waverly like she’s trying to solve a conspiracy board.
“If babygirl” she points aggressively at older Waverly “is dating HER” she points at Nicole “and YOU” she pokes Present Wynonna in the shoulder “are shacking up with Cowboy Pornstache over there…”

Doc touches his mustache proudly.
“I do try.”

“…then does that mean I turn out okay?”

The air softens. Present Wynonna stares at her younger self. This prickly, defensive, lonely girl holding a magic bowl like it’s body armor. And Wynonna, real Wynonna, the weary one who’s survived everything life has thrown at her, says gently

“You don’t turn out perfect. But you turn out you. And that’s pretty damn good.”

Young Wynonna swallows, throat bobbing.
“…Okay. Good enough.”
Then she instantly ruins the moment by shoving the bowl into Present Wynonna’s arms so suddenly she nearly drops it. “Alright, Future Me. Make with the time travel.”

Nicole clears her throat. “Okay so… last time this thing activated, Wynonna touched it and insulted it, right?”

Present Wynonna shrugs. “That’s my usual method of communication with cursed objects.”

Waverly watches the bowl cautiously. “Maybe it needs a specific phrase? Or some kind of trigger? Something it reacted to the first time?”

Present Wynonna raises her hand. “I DID call it a magic cereal bowl.”

Nicole sighs. “I highly doubt that that’s an ancient magical phrase, Earp”

But Wynonna is already lifting it like a sacred relic.
“BEHOLD!” she booms.
“THE BOWL OF-…holy shit look I’m doing it!”

BZZT.
A faint pulse of light flickers inside it but then nothing happens.
Present Wynonna grins proudly. “Look! It LIKES me.”

“It did literally the opposite from what you wanted. we’re still here. ” Nicole says.

Waverly grabs the bowl, speaking to it like it’s a nervous pet.
“Okay, okay… magic bowl… time bowl… uh… chronobowl? Could you please, very politely, take us home?”

Nothing.

Doc strokes his beard. “Perhaps physical contact from all of us is required.”

Nicole nods. “Could be. Everyone touch the rim at the same time.”

Present Wynonna wiggles her eyebrows. “Nicole, scandalous.”

Nicole just stares at her. “Touch. The. Bowl.”

They all gather around it, Wynonna, Waverly, Nicole, and Doc, each placing a hand on the rim.

Young Wynonna stands back.
“Okay… good luck. Or… good future. Or whatever.”

Present Wynonna meets her gaze.
“You’ll be alright, kid.”

Young Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, feelings, gross, go.”

Waverly smiles at her softly. “We’ll see you soon… in a way.”

The teenager rolls her eyes and shrugs like this whole emotional exchange makes her itchy.

Nicole counts down.
“Three… two… one…—”

The bowl starts to buzz again and a weird light appears around them.
“Oi little me! Stop smoking. It makes our hair smell gross.” Wynonna yells and then points her attention back at the bowl “Please work, you stupid breakfast bowl!!”

Light erupts. The ground drops out. The air spins sideways. Young Wynonna shields her eyes and watches the world swallow them whole. They vanish. The bowl clatters to the ground at her feet, empty, no longer glowing, just a porcelain dish again.
She stares at the empty pavement.

Then mutters to herself grinning “…I end up with a hot cowboy.”

Notes:

You’ve reached the end! I hope you enjoyed this little time travel fic :) let me know what you think.