Teddy had left long ago, leaving Lucy and Wyatt alone in his room. She sat in her chair, telling him about the mission, and assuring him that Teddy had kept her safe. Something kept glinting in the low light of the room, but she was too afraid to mention it, afraid that something had changed while she'd been gone.
She was selfish in not wanting to ask him about his wife.
His wedding ring had caught her attention when she'd first sat down in the chair, but she'd tried to ignore it, tried to quell the worry that crept into her heart. Jessica was back, somehow, and he was married.
It was the only explanation, or so she'd thought. Ever since she'd gotten back, though, Wyatt had been even more affectionate than usual, always brushing his fingertips across her hand, fitting his hand to her knee, leaning in closer and pressing kisses to the crown of her head. Surely a married man would not do that with a teammate.
It wasn't until he mentioned, "home" that she finally figured it out.
She was married to Wyatt. She was his wife.
"What did you just say?" she asked, frowning back at him, not sure she'd heard correctly. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. He chuckled, pressing another kiss to the top of her head as she stared back at him, dumbfounded.
"I said to tell the girls that I'll be home soon," he repeated. "Don't tell them I'm in here, that'll just make them worry." Lucy nodded, her face still blank as she tried to make sense of this new timeline. "Just say I had to stay behind. Mission stuff, you know." She nodded again, still reeling. The girls…
"Do you mean," she began, still frowning. "Our daughters?" she asked, and she could feel her face heating up at the mere thought of having children with Wyatt. But then he frowned back at her, asking if she was okay, and she knew it was true.
Not only was she married to Wyatt, but she also had two kids with him.
They had his eyes. Of course they did, she thought as she scrolled through her phone. They were five and seven, and Lucy still had no idea how that had worked out. She'd only met Wyatt a little over a year ago; how could she have two kids, that were clearly made the old-fashioned way judging by their appearance, that were that old?
"Lucy," Agent Christopher called out, and her eyes snapped up from her phone. "Are you okay?" she asked gently, and Lucy nodded, smiling quickly.
"Yeah, sorry, this timeline is just a little different," Lucy whispered, glancing back down at her phone. Their names were Amelia and Layla.
Amelia was seven years old, top of her third-grade class, brilliant like her mother. Lucy grinned down at the picture of her making honor roll for the fourth time in a row, tears in her eyes as she saw how happy her little family was.
She was happy.
Layla stayed at home with Lucy, it seemed, and would start Kindergarten in the Fall. There were plenty of pictures of Lucy and Layla on mini adventures around San Francisco, all historical landmarks. Layla posed next to a number of statues in the parks Lucy's mother would take her around when she was younger. There were photos of her sitting at Lucy's desk at Stanford; so she was still a professor here.
"So, what changed?" Rufus asked, sitting down next to her. She wordlessly handed him her phone, making a point of using her left hand, her engagement ring and wedding band glinting in the light. "Whoa," he breathed, noticing the new ring instantly. "Noah?" he asked, and she shook her head, pushing the phone towards him.
Rufus frowned, taking the phone from her, and his eyes widened as he scrolled through the photos.
"He doesn't know," she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. Rufus glanced at her before continuing to scroll through the pictures.
"Hey, it's me," he muttered, smiling softly. Lucy leaned in to look at the picture. Rufus was grinning from ear to ear, and the girls were hanging off of his arms like they were monkeys and he was a tree. They looked even younger in this picture; Layla couldn't have been more than two, making Amelia only four. "Uncle Rufus," he read the caption underneath the picture. "They're adorable, Lucy," he whispered, scrolling back through more pictures.
Lucy had never been one for social media, but the Lucy in this timeline had posted everything.
She did the cliche "tummy picture once a week" while she was pregnant with both girls, and had Amelia in the pictures when she did it with Layla. She had pictures of her and Wyatt holding their newborn babies, and pictures of Wyatt asleep with a baby on his chest, a Star Wars movie playing in the background.
Layla's first tooth, Amelia's first Easter, the girls' first Christmas together, their first trip to Disney World, Layla learning to swim, Amelia getting her orange belt. An entire life she hadn't lived, hadn't known she wanted to this badly. But, she did. She wanted so desperately for this life to be hers, to have two girls with Wyatt's eyes and her nose, to live this life with him.
"Lucy," Rufus' voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up, amazed to realize that she was crying. She sniffled, wiping her eyes.
"I want it," she whispered, so soft she wasn't sure Rufus had heard her. "I want it," she repeated, and Rufus frowned down at her. "I want it to be real, I want this to be my life." She looked back down at her phone, scrolling through the photos again. "I've seen it and I want it."
"Mom!"
Lucy looked up as two girls burst through the door, immediately latching onto her. She gasped at the sudden rush of affection, looking at the girls wrapped around her middle, mumbling about how much they missed her.
She recognized them instantly. Layla and Amelia.
"Lia said the time machine made Daddy sick," Layla mumbled into Lucy's waist, and Lucy brushed her daughter's hair back, smiling softly.
"Daddy's just taking care of mission stuff," she replied, remembering what Wyatt had told her earlier. "He'll be home with us soon, I promise." Layla nodded, accepting this answer and buried her face in her mother's middle again. Lucy huffed a laugh as she hugged her girls.
"When will he be home, Mom?" Amelia asked, and Lucy shrugged, unsure of what she should tell her.
"As soon as he can," she whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of Amelia's head. The girls let go of her waist, each taking one of her hands and dragging her towards the exit, complaining that they'd been there all day.
Lucy waved goodbye to Rufus over her shoulder and he chuckled, waving back as Lucy was whisked away by her daughters.
Their house was gorgeous. Four bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, spacious living room and kitchen, nice-sized backyard riddled with jungle gym equipment for the girls to play on, and a small pond in the front of the house where Lucy assumed Wyatt took the girls fishing, as she'd seen in her photos. She wasn't too far from her mother's house, the house where she grew up.
Lucy hadn't even considered the possibility of her sister somehow being alive until Layla had tugged on Lucy's shirt and asked when Auntie Amy was coming over.
She'd almost dropped the plate of chicken nuggets she'd just made.
"What did you just say?" Lucy asked, bending down and gripping Layla's shoulders, her eyes wide. Layla tried to shuffle back. "No, baby, you're not in trouble," Lucy soothed, and Layla relaxed, twirling in her mother's hold. "I just need you to repeat what you said."
"When is Auntie Amy coming over?" she asked again, and Lucy pulled Layla into her arms, hiding her face in her daughter's hair, knowing she was going to cry. She pulled away, handing Layla her chicken nuggets, sniffling over the sink as she gathered the dishes she'd dirtied preparing dinner.
"Layla, she's coming over tomorrow morning, remember?" Amelia reminded her sister as she pulled her chicken nuggets apart, dipping them into the honey mustard on the edge of her plate.
Layla sighed dramatically, rolling her little eyes, and Lucy bit back a laugh. "I know that, Lia," she muttered, tearing her chicken nuggets apart as well. "I meant what time."
"You said eight, right, Mom?" Amelia asked, and Lucy smiled, nodding. It was still so strange to be called 'Mom' and she wondered how she'd felt in this timeline when she'd been given the title. She made a quick mental reminder to scroll back through her videos to try and find a video of Amelia's first word.
"Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?" Layla's small voice drifted through her thoughts, and she turned to her daughters, smiling softly.
"Daddy will be home soon," she whispered. "Now, eat up and then get in your pajamas." The girls nodded, and Lucy bit back a sigh of relief at having navigated the whole bedtime situation correctly for the time being.
"Are you gonna check my homework?" Amelia asked as she deposited her plate into the sink. Lucy nodded, thinking that definitely sounded like something she'd do.
Amelia was unfazed by Lucy's ineptitude and quickly handed her a bright blue folder with her name written on it. Lucy smiled at the messy handwriting, so much like her own. Layla stood on her tip-toes, reaching up and pushing her plate up onto the counter.
"Here, baby," Lucy whispered, taking the plate from her small hands and gently placing it in the sink.
"Thanks, Mommy!" Layla cried, taking off after her sister, bounding up the stairs into their rooms to get changed for bed.
Lucy collapsed onto the couch in the living room, flipping through Amelia's homework, smiling at her chosen topic for her History essay: the assassination of Abraham Lincoln.
The front doorknob jiggled, and Lucy froze, her eyes snapping up at the sound. Her heart pounded in her chest as she watched helplessly as the door was pushed open. She was about to scream Wyatt's name, even knowing he wouldn't be able to help her, when the man entered the house. She sank back into the cushions, her heart rate returning to normal as she frowned up at him.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, standing immediately to help Wyatt into the house. He grunted as she threw his arm over her shoulders, closing the door and locking it. "You're supposed to be in bed," she chastised. Wyatt rolled his eyes, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
"Nice to see you too, honey," he murmured, and she blushed. "Where are the girls?" he asked, untangling himself from Lucy and limping toward the stairs.
"They're getting ready for bed," she muttered, following him as he tried to hobble up the stairs. "Wyatt, you need to go back to Mason."
"Luce, come on," he whispered, turning around to face her. "I'll stay in bed here," he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to Lucy's neck. "Maybe you can stay with me," he whispered, his nose nuzzling her jaw. Lucy shut her eyes, tilting her head back as Wyatt moved closer, his hands circling her waist, kissing up her jaw.
She definitely wanted to take him up on that offer.
She reluctantly pulled away, sliding past him as she made her way up the stairs. "I have to put the girls to bed," she explained before ducking into one of the bedrooms. She pressed herself up against the closed door, her eyes shut tight, breathing heavily.
It wasn't exactly the same as when Noah had tried to coax her into bed; Lucy actually knew Wyatt, and those same feelings had already been there. But, it almost felt like cheating. She wasn't really his Lucy, after all, and he needed to know what had happened.
"Mommy?" Layla's small voice broke through her thoughts and she snapped her eyes open to find Layla standing in her Disney Princess underwear, struggling to pull her nightgown over her head, her arms flailing above her. Lucy giggled, kneeling down in front of the small girl and gently tugging the nightgown over her head.
"There's my girl!" Lucy cheered, and Layla giggled, throwing herself into Lucy's arms. "Have you brushed your teeth, yet?" she asked, and Layla shook her head, pointing at the door.
"Lia hasn't come to get me, yet," she whispered, her wide eyes watching the door as she spoke.
Sure enough, a few moments later, Amelia gently pushed the door open, holding a Frozen toothbrush out for Layla. Lucy scooped Layla into her arms, relishing in how small she was for five years old, and followed her girls into the bathroom.
"Mom," Amelia whispered as Layla busied herself with squeezing way too much toothpaste onto her small toothbrush. "Did I hear Dad?" Lucy nodded, gesturing to their bedroom.
"He just got home, but he's very tired, so he'll come say goodnight later." Amelia nodded, turning to pull the toothpaste away from Layla.
"No, I need more!" Layla cried, reaching for the toothpaste. Amelia gently pushed her sister's hand away as Lucy leaned over the sink and took the toothbrush, dripping toothpaste, and held it out in front of Layla.
"Smile nice and big!" Lucy whispered in her daughter's ear, and Layla immediately spread her lips in a wide grin, baring her small, white teeth. Lucy giggled as she gently brushed Layla's teeth, and Amelia brushed her teeth next to her.
"Story time, Mommy?" Layla asked once Lucy had told her to rinse and spit and had washed the remaining toothpaste off of the toothbrush. Lucy frowned at the clock on the wall; it was already much later than she'd thought.
"Auntie Amy is going to read to us tomorrow morning, Layla," Amelia gently reminded her sister, and Lucy smiled at how helpful her other daughter was. She reminded her of herself when Amy was younger, albeit a little younger. When Amy was five, Lucy had been twelve.
"Okay, girls, time for bed," Lucy urged gently, helping Layla off of her footstool, holding her tiny hand. She led the girls to their rooms, following Layla into hers to tuck her into her bed.
"Goodnight, Mommy," Layla whispered dramatically, and Lucy giggled for the hundredth time since meeting the girls.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," Lucy whispered back, leaning down to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Sweet dreams, cupcake," she whispered, smoothing her hand through Layla's soft brown curls.
Lucy poked her head into Amelia's room, seeing her arranging her stuffed animals so that she was almost surrounded.
"Want me to tuck you in?" Lucy asked warily, knowing that at seven, she herself had been pretty independent. Amelia glanced up, considering. Finally, she nodded, sliding down under her covers.
Lucy smiled, making her way over to Amelia's bed, sitting on the edge as Amelia snuggled down, pulling her stuffed elephant closer. She brushed Amelia's hair back, her breath catching as Wyatt's bright blue eyes stared up at her.
"Dad was hurt, wasn't he?" she asked softly, and Lucy startled out of her thoughts. She nodded solemnly, offering her an encouraging smile as she leaned closer.
"He's going to be fine, though," she whispered, kissing her forehead. "He just needs some rest. Nothing could keep him away from you two." Amelia nodded, turning on her side, pressing her face into her stuffed elephant.
Lucy reached over and turned the light off before heading towards her own bedroom. The bedroom that she shared with Wyatt.
She paused just outside her room. She hadn't thought of that; she'd share a bed with Wyatt again, and this time, they'd sleep. Lucy briefly wondered if they'd do more than sleep but quickly squashed that thought down. Taking a deep breath, she pushed her bedroom door open.
Wyatt was spread out on top of the covers, his arm propped up on a pillow as he scrolled through his phone with his good hand. Lucy sighed, shaking her head, plopping down on the bed next to him. He smiled warmly at her, shifting so that his arm was wrapped around her. She took his phone from him and held it out.
"What did the doctors really say?" she whispered and Wyatt chuckled, kissing the crown of her head. She could do this; Wyatt had already taken to pressing soft kisses in her hair in her timeline. She'd been shocked the first time he'd done it, after a particularly bad mission where she'd almost been buried alive, but had since grown accustomed to the wave of calm that would wash over her.
"They said I could go," he whispered. Lucy looked up at him, her eyebrow raised. He sighed, leaning forward to brush his nose against hers. "They said I could go as long as I stayed on bed rest for the next week." Lucy nodded, very aware of how close he was to her.
"Then, you'll stay in bed," she whispered, not trusting her voice to speak any louder. They were in a bubble, just the two of them, and she was afraid she'd break it. He smirked, and her heart pounded as he leaned even closer, his lips just barely brushing hers.
"I wasn't kidding, you know," he breathed, and she shivered as his lips gently touched hers as he spoke. "You could stay in bed with me." He leaned forward that last bit, capturing Lucy's mouth with his.
It was even better than she remembered.
This Wyatt kissed her just the same as her Wyatt, although he was a bit more enthusiastic. Lucy pressed back against him, sighing into the kiss, her fingers softly stroking the stubble on his cheek. His arm circled around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him as he drew his teeth over her bottom lip, making her gasp in surprise. His tongue tangled with hers, and Lucy completely relaxed in his arms as they explored each other's mouths.
"Ah," Wyatt hissed, and Lucy quickly pulled away, her hands flitting over his chest. "No, it's fine, baby, I'm fine," he quickly assured her, seeing the worry in her eyes. She glanced down at his chest, remembering his other injury.
"Cracked ribs," she whispered, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide. Wyatt reached out, shaking his head, pulling her hand down into his.
"Lucy, it's fine, it just surprised me," he tried reassuring her. He leaned forward, gently kissing her again, brushing his lips over her cheek, her nose, her eyelids, whispering that he was fine over and over again.
"We should probably postpone any strenuous activity," Lucy whispered and Wyatt huffed a laugh against her cheek before pressing a kiss there.
"I suppose you're right," he relented, leaning back. She rolled over and turned the light off, snuggling down in Wyatt's arms, careful to wrap her arms around his middle, resting her head in the crook of his shoulder.
It was nice, being held like this by Wyatt. It was better than she'd imagined, and a wave of guilt rushed through her as she realized she still hadn't told him that she wasn't really his wife. She bit her lip, hiding her face in his chest, his gentle breathing and strong heartbeat already lulling her to sleep.
She'd tell him tomorrow.