New story when I should really be working on other ones! This fic is based on the song Against All Odds (Listen to the Darren Criss Version). There aren't any spoilers for the finale. It's just a story idea that came to me that I wanted to get out BEFORE the finale. Enjoy :)))
For all the bad habits Wyatt has picked up over the years, he has never been a good gambler. Always risking too much when he knows his hand is crap and feeling the negative effects as his pot would empty soon after. He should have learned by now, but instead he takes a deep breath and makes the biggest gamble of his life.
"Lucy, I love you." They're in the midst of a battle for their lives, behind a brick barrier, under the fire of easily two dozen Rittenhouse agents, and he decides now is the best time to make that confession. It had been an ambush. They had figured it was just a standard mission when they saw the mothership jumped to March 7, 1877. End of Reconstruction, Lucy had said. Maybe they are trying to stop it. But they had barely made it into the closest town before they came under fire, and now here they were. Outgunned. Outmanned. "In case we don't make it out of here. I need you to know that." She looks now like she did back what feels like a lifetime ago at the Alamo, her hair which had been in an elaborate updo was now disheveled, falling out of place, her face was matted with dirt, tears brimming in her cognac eyes, and absolutely the most beautiful he has ever seen her.
"Wyatt," she whispers, dropping her eyes as a tear falls. "Not now. I can't…" Before she can finish, he and Flynn jump up from behind the barricade to fire few more shots. She hears a man's scream and a consecutive thud. Another one down.
"How many more are there?" Rufus whispers urgently as the two soldiers come back down.
"Only a couple besides Keynes, Emma, and Carol," Flynn gruffs as he reloads. "Think we can finish them, Logan?" The two men meet eyes and share an understanding nod.
"Let's finish this." They maintain eye contact for a moment more, synchronizing their plan of attack. In another life they could have made great brothers in combat, today is proof of that. They stand from behind the barrier and make their way into the open.
Lucy and Rufus find their way together, holding onto each other as the gun shot's continue to ring.
"We're gonna make it out of this," Rufus keeps muttering, and Lucy wonders if this is the time it might not be true. She trusts Wyatt with her life, and she's reached a place where she trusts Flynn near that much, but they're been lucky so many times. How much longer will luck hold out? They're both pulled out of their trance by a yell from an all too familiar voice.
Wyatt.
She and Rufus forget the dangers and shoot up from behind the wall although by the looks of it there isn't much danger left. The only people moving besides Flynn and Wyatt seem to be the heart, lungs, and brain of Rittenhouse. Emma and Keynes are behind a rack of barrels, with Carol crouched beside them. She was never a fan of guns. Wyatt has visible amounts of blood seeping from his left leg but is still standing and firing beside Flynn who has his fair share of blood staining around a large graze on his shoulder. Keynes makes a bold move away from the barrels before darting down an alley.
"Get Keynes, Flynn!" Wyatt shouts. "I'll take care of Emma." The former terrorist nods and takes off after the Rittenhouse mastermind, leaving Wyatt alone to finish off the ginger heartbeat of the organization.
"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this, Master Sergeant," Emma sneers, stalking out from behind her cover.
"I'm guessing about as long as I have," he smirks. They're gun to gun now. Whoever gets the better shot will be the victor. "Lucy, Rufus, I know you're both thinking of being a hero," he calls to them. "But you stay back." Before they have a chance to disobey his order, shots go off. Both of them go down.
"Wyatt!" They call out in unison, neglecting any possible danger that could remain and run to his side. He's still conscious when they kneel beside him. He grunts to acknowledge their presence but can't do much more. The shot got him in the lower side of his rib cage; he can feel it. He's just praying it's not as bad as it feels but still manages to lift his head to see if he hit Emma.
"Guys." Is all he can manage to gasp. "Emma." The ginger, despite an obvious wound to her collarbone is scrambling to her feet, gun in hand. Both Lucy and Rufus turn, ready to guard their soldier, but someone jumps out first.
"No, Emma," Carol snaps, throwing herself in the middle. "This needs to be over. We have nothing, no one else left. Rittenhouse is done."
"Carol, how can you say that? We can rebuild. Start fresh. This is never done," Emma says, more desperately than they've ever heard. Wyatt feels the cool metal of his gun beneath his finger tips. He grabs hold of it.
"Is it worth it? Is it worth all the lives we've taken?" Carol asks, and to their surprise Emma seems to be affected by the words and begins to lower the gun, but then she hesitates.
"I'm sorry, Carol." Emma lifts the gun and shoots, piercing her straight through the chest. The adrenaline pulsing through his blood allows Wyatt to quickly aim and fire, catching Emma in the head.
"Mom," Lucy whispers, and the sound breaks Wyatt's heart. She hasn't moved from his side, but from the looks of it she might not be able to move at all. Her eyes are locked on the body of her mother and there are silent tears falling from her eyes. He wants to reach out, comfort her, hold her, but he can still feel the blood escaping his body and his consciousness along with hit. He wants to hold out. They need him. Lucy needs him. Dammit, Logan, hang in—