Deeper In Love
Chapter One (Wyatt)
"I fell in love with her when we were together, then fell deeper in love with her in the days we were apart..." - Nicholas Sparks
Six weeks...
Forty-two days...
One thousand and eight hours...
Sixty thousand, four hundred eighty minutes...
And that's where Wyatt stopped and closed the calculator on his phone because just acknowledging how many seconds it had been since he had last seen Lucy made his heart hurt with an almost physical intensity (three million and something now? That can't be right).
Every night in the six weeks since they had taken refuge in the long abandoned underground silo, when sheer exhaustion nearly brought him to his knees and his weary brain would flat out refuse to cooperate any further, Wyatt would finally fall onto his cot in hopes of even a couple hours of sleep, the smallest of respites from his new messed-up reality. To be fair, he was sharing that same reality with everyone else in their ragtag little band of rebels–Rufus, Jiya, Denise Christopher, Connor Mason, and they were all struggling. (Although it had been kind of amusing when Rufus declared on the second day that living in their new hideout felt like getting dumped off at some kind of bizarre survivalist summer camp.)
Sure, the bunker was safe, but as each tedious day blurred into the next, Wyatt thought he might be losing his mind, mostly from worrying about Lucy, although the unrelenting monotony of their new daily routine was beginning to wear on him as well. The first week after the team went into hiding wasn't quite as bad as those that followed because they were all focusing on getting the lifeboat up and running, in addition to finding Lucy. Rufus, Jiya, and Connor worked practically non stop on repairing the important computer and electrical stuff as quickly as possible, while Wyatt occupied himself with the physical logistics of setting up their new headquarters as well as volunteering his modest cooking skills on most days.
When she and Wyatt weren't working on mission strategies or tirelessly analyzing intel on Rittenhouse, an extremely cautious Agent Christopher came and went at varying times daily, their little group's one link to the outside world aside from their burner phones and laptops. Even so, it felt like the majority of each day had little real purpose. For a guy in his line of work, not to mention his personality, this much inactivity was a hellish form of torture. Staying busy was the only way Wyatt could even attempt to cope with his strong emotions–which were all over the place-and even then, it was difficult to concentrate on much beyond this forced separation from Lucy and his increasing desperation to get her back.
Every day that passed without any new information on Lucy's whereabouts was more disheartening than the one before. Loathe to utter the words out loud, in his darkest moods, Wyatt secretly worried that if it seemed as if Lucy had literally disappeared from the planet, it was likely that she had–traveling through time on the mother ship with her mother and Emma–and definitely against her will. No way would the Lucy Preston he knew (and loved) be a willing participant in whatever twisted power play Rittenhouse was planning.
During his deepest moments of despair, Wyatt would remind himself that Lucy was crazy smart, brave, capable, and most of all, strong. God, she was so much stronger than he was. And he absolutely refused to consider even the slightest possibility that she was no longer alive because he had zero interest in living in a world without her.
He cursed himself a thousand times over for letting her walk away from him the last time he saw her. Lucy felt so right tucked in his arms, close enough to feel her heart beat against his, the sweet fragrance of her soft hair tickling his chin. She had looked tentative, but so hopeful at his confession about 'possibilities' and Wyatt sorely regretted his failure to kiss her before Connor's untimely interruption. He was acutely aware that a rare, undeserved second chance at love and happiness was within his reach, and he swore this time, with this woman, that it wouldn't be wasted.
And so, the endless hours passed at a depressingly glacial pace. He began to use a set of weights that had mysteriously appeared on his cot one day soon after their arrival, trying to pass the time in strenuous, mindless daily workouts. "It was ironic that he was probably in the best shape of his life, yet what good was that when he was trapped like a caged animal," Wyatt thought ruefully.
In spite of their careful efforts to hide it, he wasn't unaware of the subtle looks from the others, all of them seemingly holding their collective breaths in uneasy anticipation of Wyatt suddenly losing his shit. There was apparently an unspoken agreement between them to not talk about Lucy unless he initiated the conversation first, probably in an effort to keep him calm. Turned out to be a wise decision, because while Wyatt did his level best to keep his temper under control, there might have been more than one occasion when his fear and frustration threatened to overwhelm him to the point where he felt like punching the nearest wall.
And as much as Wyatt cared for Rufus and Jiya, he fought every single night to suppress his natural envy that they usually slept entwined on a single cot, lucky enough to have each other to turn to for comfort. The very first night in their new 'home,' when he crept into the sleeping quarters and saw them together, with Rufus curled protectively around Jiya, Wyatt felt such an irrational bitterness rise up in his chest it nearly took his breath.
Of course, he certainly didn't begrudge his friends their happiness with each other despite the circumstances they all found themselves in (he wasn't a heartless asshole), but God dammit, it wasn't fair. Hadn't he paid the price over and over for his countless sins when Jess had been brutally taken away from him more than six years ago? Wyatt had loved his wife, missed her so badly that it had taken most of the miserable time he endured since then to move past the guilt and anguish, at least until the fateful day he met a certain history professor.
And what about Lucy? Practically everything she held dear had been ripped away since this whole time travel, mind fuck of a circus began: her beloved little sister, the father who raised her (was his name Henry?), the career that she had devoted many years to, and of course, her true mother. Wyatt absolutely did not consider the Carol Preston who was currently running the Rittenhouse world domination road show to be Lucy's mother, and he was pretty sure she didn't either.
To come so tantalizingly close to erasing the increasingly threadbare line between teammates at first and then friends and something more, something deeper, sweeter, and then be denied was growing more painful to live with every day. Terrified for her safety, Lucy's absence was a constant weight on his soul.
Thank God for Jiya. After the second time that Wyatt went one on one with a wall, she quietly sought him out, first aid kit in hand. Embarrassed at losing his temper, he had gruffly tried to refuse her offer to bandage his hand, but rolling her eyes in silence, she merely plopped down on the cot beside him and waited patiently until he grudgingly acquiesced. Watching intently as Jiya very carefully cleaned and wrapped his bleeding, scraped-up knuckles, Wyatt told her fondly, "You're as stubborn as she is, you know that?"
Grinning up at him, she quipped, "Hey, I'll take that as a compliment. Besides, I don't want her kicking my ass when she comes back because I wasn't taking very good care of her boyfriend," and he was helpless to stop the blush that slowly spread across his face, much to her unmistakable delight.
Clearing his throat, Wyatt gravely thanked Jiya for being their friend. She casually shrugged away his thanks, and as she began to re-pack the first aid kit, he asked impulsively, "Hey, Jiya, you ever hear the story of the first time I met Lucy?"
Her dark eyes lit up as she exclaimed, "No, but I'd love to, that is, if you're okay telling me." And in that moment, Wyatt realized maybe it would be good for him to talk about Lucy once in a while. After all, the others loved and missed her too...
Flashback
Although he was pretending to be asleep, Wyatt had been very aware when a young woman around his age had been unceremoniously ushered into the lounge and quickly abandoned. He'd been vaguely amused by the barely audible huff of annoyance that escaped her, and could feel her speculative glance. Willing himself to absolute stillness but for the rise and fall of his chest, Wyatt waited patiently–for what, exactly, he wasn't sure–and a heartbeat later, there it was:
"Are you asleep?" the woman whispered hesitantly in a soft voice.
Without opening his eyes, Wyatt responded quietly, "No, Ma'am," and could tell by her faint sniff that she wasn't overly thrilled by his brief, succinct answer. Smirking inwardly, he realized, somewhat surprisingly, that he might actually be starting to enjoy himself. The fact that he'd been assigned here at Mason Industries meant it was probably official government business requiring a military presence, although he had no idea why. Wyatt had learned early on that it was no use to question the military, which usually tended to take its own sweet time, no matter how dire the situation. Far easier to be patient than get all worked up. He could almost feel her agitation and frustration grow, however, with each passing second. Sure enough, just a moment later, she asked him another question, and when he calmly answered, "No idea, Ma'am", then the sparks began to fly.
She inhaled sharply in displeasure before rebuking him, "You know, we're pretty much the same age, so you can stop calling me Ma'am."
Well, hell, now he just had to get a good look at her, and upon opening his eyes, Wyatt had to admit, the mystery female did not disappoint. Of average height, slender but nicely curved, she had dark wavy hair and big brown eyes that were currently shooting daggers at him. He truly couldn't help the half smirk that curled his mouth (not that he put much effort into it) when she pressed her soft pink lips together in disapproval. She was very pretty, he decided, but probably a little too high maintenance for his taste.
Looking back now, it was patently obvious that something about Lucy Preston had intrigued him from the very minute he laid eyes on her...
End Flashback
After his voice dwindled away, Jiya had merely patted his bandaged hand gently, her eyes gleaming sympathetically, and without a word, left him to his thoughts. The very next day, Wyatt had been surprised and pathetically grateful when she texted him several pictures. A few were posed, but most were candids of the trio taken over the past year, even one of a pensive Lucy, deep in thought in front of a computer. His favorite, though, hands down, was a picture somehow snapped without their knowledge. He and Lucy were sitting close together on a sofa in one of the lounges, gazing at each other, and when viewed from a purely objective point of view, the sweet intimacy of their body language alone was a dead giveaway. Not only were they gazing into each other's eyes wearing big smiles, their bodies were tellingly curved toward each other, and Lucy's hand was casually resting on his thigh.
As soon as he stretched out on his cot each night after lights out, Wyatt curled towards the wall away from the others and thumbed through the pictures over and over. It was the one bright spot in his day, and soon became the only way he was able to fall asleep. It took a little while, but eventually, he could feel himself relax, usually for the first time all day. After silently promising the picture of Lucy that he'd never give up, and he would find her, Wyatt would finally close his eyes, and purposefully recall as many memories of her as possible before drifting off in uneasy slumber, in the unlikely event he might dream of her. It hadn't happened yet, but the fragile hope still residing in his soul had thus far stubbornly refused to be extinguished.
During lingering periods of painful self examination, it slowly dawned on Wyatt that all the cold, empty spaces in his heart he thought were beyond salvaging were gradually being filled in by his growing feelings for Lucy. It sounded like the biggest cliche, he knew, but loving Lucy made him want to be a better man.
There were so many little things he missed about her–the scent of the soft floral perfume she always wore, the adorable way her elegant dark brows drew together when she frowned in disagreement with him, those enthusiastic, one-of-a-kind Lucy Preston hugs. Naturally, he was very attracted to her physical appearance, but even more engaging was the fact that she was one of the finest individuals he'd ever met, man or woman. Her sharp intelligence, honesty, compassion, and innate goodness had been evident to him from the very beginning.
Feeling particularly restless this evening, Wyatt began to flip through his mental 'rolodex' of Lucy memories, hoping to sooth the rough edges of his near constant anxiety enough to fall asleep. Luckily, after spending nearly every day together over the last year, there were many to choose from. He could feel himself grow calmer as images of Lucy began to flood his mind...
Lucy rushing into his arms after Harry Houdini unlocked the door to the room at the murder castle...
Her stubborn refusal to leave his crazy, mixed-up ass at the Alamo, and then once they returned, the determined way she and Rufus had put the jerk from Homeland Security in his place and saved his spot on the team...
The fierce set down she'd given him during the jump to 1754 when the team had been stranded and he'd been acting like an asshat...
The wide-eyed expression she wore while hanging on his every word in 1944 Germany as he tried to talk her "over the hump"...
And saving the best for last, his very favorite memory of Lucy: their first kiss...unexpected, intense, an impulsive gesture meant to fool Bonnie and Clyde, but oh so real, no matter what he had unconvincingly told himself (and her)...
Once his mind was finally at peace enough to sleep, Wyatt drifted away, unaware of neither the slight smile that gently curved his lips or the single tear that slid from the corner of one eye.
Alas, his fervent wish for a pleasant dream of Lucy backfired spectacularly in the form of a frightening, soul-wrenching nightmare in which she was in mortal danger, crying out for him to save her. He woke early the next morning with her name on his lips. And the day just went steadily downhill from there.
One lovely feature of the silo was its numerous open areas in lieu of rooms with actual doors. After listlessly pulling his clothes on, Wyatt was making his way down the shadowed, curving hallway when he heard his name. He honestly didn't mean to eavesdrop, but coming to a sudden halt just outside the kitchen area, he could plainly hear Rufus and Jiya quietly discussing Lucy and the depressing lack of information uncovered by the covert NSA team Agent Christopher had hand picked strictly for this assignment.
"Rufus, I'm worried about Wyatt. He's trying so hard to have faith, to believe in the system, and yet, here we are, six weeks later, all of us crammed into this creepy underground commune, no idea what Rittenhouse is up to, and still no news of Lucy. I don't know how much more he can take, poor guy."
"Well, according to the last encrypted email we received from Agent Christopher, the NSA has come up with jack squat in the way of information on Lucy."
"I hate to say it, but it's hard to believe with all the technology at their disposal, there's not a single scrap of evidence after six weeks that Lucy is even alive. And if that thought devastates me, what will it do to Wyatt?"
"Honestly, I'm surprised that with the lack of progress by the NSA, Wyatt hasn't already tried to go AWOL, so to speak, and find Lucy on his own."
"Yeah, that's not likely since all the doors are locked from the outside. How does he not know that?"
"Because Agent Christopher knows Wyatt well enough to assume that eventually, he will just walk out of here and take his chances if he gets desperate enough. One good piece of news is that the lifeboat should be about ready to go as soon as Connor finishes that last set of calculations and after we double check the time dilation equations against the mother board, but of course, we can't take her out without permission...oh, shit..."
Jiya stared at Rufus in confusion as his voice trailed off before turning around to see Wyatt standing a few feet away. A small part of his mind could appreciate the guilty expressions his friends were wearing, but that was getting rapidly swallowed up by a growing wave of anger. Not trusting himself to even speak at this point, he pivoted abruptly and hurried to the closest door. Grabbing a power saw and welder's safety mask lying on the floor, Wyatt began desperately trying, with no success, to cut through the apparently locked steel door. He ignored Rufus yelling at him until the other man cut the power to the saw.
Whirling around, Wyatt began to argue with his friend when the steel door opened suddenly to reveal Agent Christopher. In spite of his vehement protests, she was adamant that he was not allowed to leave. Sick with fear for Lucy and furious at being thwarted, everything Wyatt had kept bottled up inside began to bubble up, eager to erupt. Unwilling to validate the others' concerns about his temper, he practically sprinted to a large open area at the other end of the silo. After spending a good bit of time just pacing back and forth, Wyatt dropped to the floor and began doing pushups, before flipping over and racing through countless sit ups, only stopping when his muscles began to quiver painfully from his angry exertions. Pulling his knees up under his chin, his chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jiya standing there, gazing at him uncertainly.
"Wyatt?" she asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"
Taking a deep breath, he wiped his forehead before answering hoarsely, "No, but I will be." Getting to his feet carefully, Wyatt stumbled past a clearly worried Jiya and headed for the shower room. The nearly scalding water was starting to run cool by the time he finished. Slowly walking over to the sinks, he gazed despondently at his reflection, willing himself to keep it together, for Lucy, for their future. They were close now, he had heard Rufus say so earlier, and Wyatt needed to be ready at a second's notice. Lucy was alive, he knew it in his heart, and she'd be counting on him to find her, and he'd be damned if he would let her down.
"Staying separate from those we love hurts" - Jodi Aman
A/N: After finding out from a spoiler that shortly after the premiere episode opens, the time line quickly jumps forward six weeks, the idea for this popped into my head-what did Wyatt and Lucy experience, and how did they each endure, being kept apart for six weeks under these horrible circumstances? Next chapter will be from Lucy's POV. My sincere appreciation to all of you who read, favorite, follow, and especially take a minute to review my stories. Thanks :))
