Transparent
A/N #1: If you've seen the season two promo (and if you haven't yet, what the heck are you waiting for?), you might recognize the opening lines of this story. After watching the new promo maybe once or twice or about a hundred times (HA), I was inspired to write a few paragraphs...
A/N #2: Webster's II New College Dictionary defines the word "transparent" as follows: "Easily detected or readily understandable." (adj.)
"Just admit it! You're in love with Lucy!" The words seemed to echo loudly around the cab of the vintage military transport that Rufus had hot wired not long after the lifeboat had followed the mother ship to 1918 Europe, landing them smack dab in the middle of World War I. Hidden in a thick strand of trees, the two men were keeping a close eye on a large Army tent they'd seen Emma Whitmore and Carol Preston enter about an hour ago, hoping desperately that Lucy was safe inside. Wyatt froze at his friend's declaration, uttered with fond exasperation after he had tried (not very successfully) to distract the pilot from his newest obsession, "Hey, let's get Wyatt Logan to put his feelings out there for the whole world to see."
Normally a very private person, the idea that his ever-growing attachment to Lucy seemed to be so easily discerned by those around him made Wyatt distinctly uncomfortable. From an early age, he had considered vulnerability to be a weakness, something to be avoided whenever possible (a personal character trait that had made Jess crazy). So he was dismayed at getting called out on what he did or did not feel for his best friend. Without even looking, Wyatt could sense the knowing expression on Rufus' face. Calling on all his skills and training, he willed himself to maintain a blank facade, desperate to keep from betraying his emotions. (Jesus, was it tattooed on his forehead?)
Bad enough his usually calm demeanor was beginning to unravel from yet another round of worrying about Lucy since she'd disappeared - again - mere hours after her short-lived safe return from 1954 Washington DC and their tentative conversation about exploring 'possibilities.' Desperate to find her, Wyatt felt like his self control was already hanging by the thinnest of threads, and a heartfelt confession of love for one teammate to the other member of the team was just about the farthest thing from his mind right now.
And that was another thing–Wyatt could scarcely believe it was happening again. This kind of shit was just gonna have to stop, because he didn't know how much more he could take. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he'd found it damn near unbearable to turn away from Lucy and climb into the lifeboat and return to 2017 without her. And to leave her behind with Flynn (of all people), when every fiber of his being wanted nothing more than to pick Lucy up, throw her over his shoulder, and escape, Rittenhouse madness be damned.
Wyatt wondered vaguely if Rufus might have inadvertently come up with a workable solution to what seemed to be evolving into a chronic problem with Lucy-could it be that simple? Just admit his love for her, eventually (hopefully) marry the woman, and then never let her out of his sight for the rest of their lives. "Yeah, that could work," he thought wistfully.
Unbidden, Wyatt remembered teasing his "sly dog" of a teammate in 1934 before the other man finally made a move on Jiya, and thought ruefully, "Wow, I guess karma really is a bitch." In spite of his futile attempts to ignore Rufus' pointed observation, the pilot, and for that matter, his girlfriend, were not exactly unintelligent individuals, and they'd both witnessed first-hand his apparently revealing behavior with the way he lost his composure when Flynn abducted Lucy in 1780...
Flashback
To this day, his recollection of the agonizing hours spent waiting less than patiently for the lifeboat to recharge was somewhat hazy, but from the not-so-subtle hints Rufus had dropped since then, Wyatt had acted like a crazy person ("or a man in love," a little voice in his head cheerfully suggested). It certainly hadn't helped that his increasingly conflicted feelings for Lucy, coming on the heels of that mind-blowing kiss in front of Bonnie and Clyde, had been all over the place during that mission.
Of course, he cared for Lucy, she was his friend, his teammate, and it had been entirely on him that he'd been unable to protect her. Trapped in that airless room at H.H. Holmes' 'murder castle' with Rufus, Sophia the architect, and unknowingly, the serial killer himself, Wyatt had over the course of several hours slowly come to terms with his imminent death. In spite of the mission at Mason Industries bringing a surprising new purpose to his life over the past six months or so, the possibility of dying prematurely at a young age had long been a constant in his life since enlisting in the military, even more so after his time in Syria as a Delta Force operative. The years after his wife's death merely strengthened that inevitability in his mind–no doubt helped along on occasion by copious amounts of alcohol.
Of course, while he surely lamented his inability in this instance to protect Rufus, Wyatt's harshest regret was his lack of bravery when it came to Lucy. She was out there somewhere with that bastard Flynn, and sadly, now it appeared he would take his crushing failure to save her to the grave. But shortly thereafter, it seemed this mortal world hadn't yet finished with Wyatt Logan. Mere seconds after they'd heard Lucy's shaky voice on the other side of the supposedly impenetrable brick wall, the door to the room had been opened by the famous Harry Houdini himself.
When she had flown into his arms, he had been struck by a sudden inescapable sense of how right it felt. The rational part of his mind had tried to explain it away as being concerned for a good friend and teammate, but Wyatt's heart secretly rejoiced at the feel of her trembling body held tightly against his. Already resigned to the distressing idea of never seeing Lucy again, he thought perhaps his "Thank God you're okay" whispered into the soft curve of her neck had surprised both of them, but for that brief, heartbreaking moment, he'd never meant anything more in his life.
Wyatt still occasionally woke in the middle of the night with Lucy's name on his lips, terrified for her safety and feeling guilty as hell that she'd been mistreated and suffered God knows what during her captivity. Only Agent Christopher and the NSA-ordered therapist knew exactly what Lucy had endured. She had never shared the details of her ordeal with him, and gutless coward that he was, Wyatt couldn't bring himself to ask. His imagination, though, happily supplied just enough knowledge to ruin his sleep for weeks afterwards.
But naturally, stubborn fool that he was, even after the trio's joyous reunion that day, it had taken a couple more painful missteps on his part before Wyatt could finally admit to himself just how important Lucy Preston was to him. During the team's very next mission to 1882, his distracted, self-centered attitude had indirectly led to her shooting Jesse James, in the back, no less. Maybe if his head hadn't been so far up his ass, he would have realized the depths of Lucy's despair and somehow prevented that desperate, horrifying act. Even worse, Wyatt had turned his back on her when they'd returned, so intent was he on preventing his wife's death. In his heart, he doubted he would ever forgive himself for failing Lucy when she'd needed him most.
And yet, mere days later, he and Rufus embarked on the doomed trip to 1983 Cleveland. Looking back, Wyatt wondered if he had been suffering from temporary insanity. How else to explain his behavior? The devastated expression on Lucy's face when he'd gone to her mother's house in the middle of the night and taken her into his confidence just before they stole the lifeboat was burned indelibly in his memory.
And what a completely screwed-up fiasco that had been, from start to finish. Sitting for who knows how many hours in a cell at the black site prison, all alone with his tortured thoughts, had given Wyatt plenty of time to reflect on his numerous sins, especially those concerning Lucy. Thank God for Denise Christopher. The NSA agent had literally saved his ass by helping him escape the black site. Afterwards, it had taken every bit of courage he possessed to walk into that warehouse in Oakland, absolutely certain that Lucy would still be hurt, angry, and so disappointed in him. Wyatt could scarcely bear the thought that she wouldn't (or couldn't) forgive him.
He should have known better-after all, this was Lucy he was talking about. Steeling himself to be rebuffed or even worse, ignored completely, Wyatt had slowly descended the wooden steps, fully prepared to accept the consequences of his selfish, destructive actions. He barely had time to take a deep breath before a clearly relieved Lucy had hurried across the room and flung her arms tightly around him, murmuring breathlessly, "You're okay," against his neck. Enveloping her slender body in his arms, his eyes stung with emotion at her unexpected absolution. Wyatt knew he could live the rest of his life and never deserve a woman like Lucy Preston.
Eventually, the four of them came up with a half-way decent plan. It went against every instinct he had to send Lucy and Rufus back to a compromised Mason Industries for their new "mission" without his protection while he stayed behind at the warehouse, but it was the only way the team had even the slightest chance of getting the lifeboat away from Rittenhouse. After a quick bro hug and a "see you later," Rufus bounded up the steps, eager to return to Jiya. Casually shrugging away Wyatt's sincere thanks, Agent Christopher had returned his weapon to him before departing as well.
Once he heard the sound of the outside door closing behind her, Wyatt turned to see Lucy sitting quietly on a crate, gazing at him somberly. Pale-faced, she appeared frightened, but resolute, and he had never been more proud of her. Taking a seat beside her, Wyatt took her small cold hand in his, not quite sure what he could say to ease her fears. Their hastily thrown together plans were unlike any mission the trio had ever attempted, and he fought to reign in his own uneasy concerns. With their collective futures, probably their very lives, on the line, it struck him forcibly that if it all went to hell in a handbasket, this could possibly be the last time he ever saw Lucy.
Without warning, he experienced such a sharp pang of raw grief at the very concept that it nearly paralyzed him, and closing his eyes briefly, he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat (it was now or never). "Lucy?" he managed hesitantly, and the soft, trusting smile she gave him nearly took his breath. Now more than ever, in the face of a terrifyingly uncertain future, Wyatt truly meant the words he'd uttered in 1954 (I cannot lose you again).
Before he could even speak, though, she squeezed his hand and calmly warned, "Don't you dare apologize, Wyatt Logan. You can just save your breath. None of this is your fault, although I can tell by your face you've already convinced yourself it is."
"But if I hadn't been so damned determined to save Jess..." Wyatt argued, the bitter remorse rising up in his chest threatening to smother him, only to fall silent at the weary frown she directed at him.
"Stop it. I have only one question for you–could you have lived with yourself if you hadn't at least tried?" At his obvious distress, Lucy relented. "Wyatt, all I'm saying is that after everything we have been through together, I know a little about what drives you. You are one of the most decent, honorable men I've ever known, and you have a fierce loyalty to those people you care about. But you inevitably take too much on yourself. You can't save everyone," she advised gently.
The words fell impulsively from his lips in mild protest, "I don't want to save everyone–just you." Lucy's dark eyes opened wide and a faint blush bloomed across her cheeks as Wyatt held his breath, uncertain of her reaction to his startling confession.
Turning toward him, Lucy sighed and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You already have, so many times. What would I do without you?" and leaned her head on his shoulder.
"I pray we don't have to find out," Wyatt muttered, wrapping his arms firmly around her for a long moment.
All too soon, her phone chimed with an unwelcome message. It was time. She reluctantly pulled away from him, and clearing her throat, bravely admitted, "I'm trying not to freak out, but it's going to be scary going back to Mason without you." Wyatt's heart ached with the strength of his suppressed feelings, but he fully realized that now was not the time, even as he fervently hoped their plans were successful.
End Flashback
"Wyatt? Hey, Wyatt? You with me, man?" His musings were cut short by Rufus waving a hand in front of him. Blinking slowly, Wyatt focused his gaze on his teammate's concerned face.
"Jeez, where were you just now? You got really quiet for, like, more than a few minutes. I was starting to worry. Anyway, I just want to say 'I'm sorry..."
"For what?" Wyatt interrupted with a puzzled frown, not sure what the unexpected apology was for.
Wearing a contrite expression, Rufus shrugged before responding, "For pushing you about Lucy. Here I am, practically the poster child for letting irrational fears and doubts keep a guy from a relationship with an amazing woman for the longest time. To be honest, I never dreamed I could love someone as much as I do Jiya. It's the greatest feeling ever. So, yeah, I guess my own happiness makes me impatient because you are so clearly in love with a certain history professor, but at the same time, holding back for some reason."
In spite of his discomfort with the subject, his friend's obvious concern for Wyatt made him smile. "It's okay, Rufus, I know you mean well," and taking a deep breath, admitted, "I've never been very good with talking about my personal feelings. Jess used to tease me about being a 'human clam," you know, always tightly closed, keeping all of it bottled up inside." He smirked at an incredulous snort from his friend.
"Really?" Rufus snickered. "I find that extremely hard to believe. Imagine that. Master Sergeant Wyatt Logan playing it all close to the vest–no way that could be true," and smiled in triumph when Wyatt growled at him.
"Okay, okay, have your fun, Mr. 'I'm lucky enough to be in love with a smart, beautiful woman who's as geeky as I am' Carlin. And yeah, you called it, of course I'm in love with Lucy. No need to act smug about it, though," he warned, ducking his head shyly at his friend's gleeful expression.
The two men grinned at each other companionably for a moment before Rufus soberly observed, "Not to sound all mushy or anything, but we both know how precious and definitely precarious time is. All I can say is that after Jiya, you and Lucy are my best friends, in any time line, and you both deserve to be happy."
Wyatt's chest tightened at the sincerity in his friend's voice. "Thanks, man, I appreciate that," he said gruffly. "And I promise to consider your advice. Now, as interesting as this conversation has been, I noticed Carol Preston and Emma leaving the tent a few minutes ago. We need to get in there and find Lucy."
Rufus nodded in agreement, and leaving the truck running, cautiously followed Wyatt across the small clearing. Just outside the tent flap, he tapped Wyatt's arm and whispered, "If Lucy is by herself, I'm gonna hang back and give you two a second alone. Now don't forget what I told you. Make me proud, soldier." A quick grin appeared on Wyatt's face as he murmured, "Yes, sir," before disappearing into the large tent.
His knees went weak at the sight of an unharmed Lucy slightly bent over a table, looking at a map of some kind. Creeping soundlessly up behind her, he grabbed her around the waist, carefully putting his hand over her mouth. Whirling around, her dark eyes widened and began to fill with tears as she trembled in his arms. Holding her tightly against him, Wyatt closed his eyes and thanked God they had found her. There was so much he wanted to say to Lucy, and while he had every intention of taking Rufus' suggestion to heart, unfortunately, now was not the time. "Soon, though, very soon," Wyatt promised himself. The two of them had wasted enough time, but not for much longer. The future with Lucy he wanted, needed - and maybe even deserved - was waiting.
A/N #3: I don't know about all of you, but I got all my fingers crossed that Lucy and Wyatt's kiss in the promo is just the first of many for season two. Personally, I really hope they don't get them together and then a certain dead first wife shows up, if you know what I mean :( 'cause that would be a real bummer... My appreciation to all of you for your support and encouragement (especially reviews!) of my stories, it's very gratifying. Thanks so much :))
