Prologue

Lucy startled awake, blinking into the night and unsure of just what had woken her. Only as her eyes slowly began to adjust to the inky darkness did she come to focus on what had roused her.

Or, more accurately, who.

Her future self was crouched there in front of Lucy's cot, the same hands that were balled up under her pillow also, paradoxically through the grace of twisted time travel rules, resting lightly on her shoulder and on the edge of the thin mattress.

"Come on," the older Lucy whispered. "Get up."

Lucy furrowed her brow. They'd saved Rufus. He was back, safe and sound and alive. Also likely asleep. So she was increasingly confused as to why she no longer was. The whole point of their future selves spending an extra night had been to get much-needed rest before navigating themselves back to their own time.

Except, Lucy was realizing as her mind started to catch up, it was looking like maybe that had been a cover for something else.

Her older self was fully dressed, no borrowed pajamas in sight. And as Lucy shook away the grogginess, that same older self flipped on the small lamp at the head of the bed and shoved a pile of what Lucy recognized as her own clothes at her. "Let's go," the elder Lucy urged softly. "Get dressed."

Pulling herself up to sit, Lucy shied away from the bright light, now more perplexed than ever. "What?" she asked sleepily. "What are you talking about?"

"Get dressed," her older self reiterated. "I need to show you a few things."

Begrudgingly, Lucy threw her legs over the side of the bed. As much as she'd have liked to protest, these mysterious future versions of herself and Wyatt had come through, as promised, and Rufus was back. So, while she was still unsettled around her future self, unnerved by this… daunting, tough, self-assured version of herself that she just couldn't envision herself ever becoming, Lucy felt overwhelmingly indebted to her for helping them save Rufus. So she supposed she could just go with it. Really, the older Lucy was just plain intimidating. So it's not as if she felt she could have said no anyway.

Still listless from the haze of sleep, Lucy eyed the small stack of clothing, not looking forward to the chill of the cold, cement floor on the trek to the bathroom.

"I know what it all looks like," came the other Lucy's voice from across the small room, interrupting Lucy's thoughts. "You can just change here," her older self added with a smirk that was obvious even in the dim light.

Lucy felt her cheeks grow hot, flustered and embarrassed not only by being so self-conscious around this person who was literally herself, but for being so transparent to this older her on top of that. But rather than try to come up with a defense or excuse about needing to use the bathroom – which of course the future Lucy would just see right through – Lucy just gave in, slipping out of her pajamas and into her jeans and sweater as modestly as possible.

And no sooner had she tied her second sneaker than she was getting tugged up off the cot at the elbow by her older self. "Come on," she hissed. "Let's go."

Still baffled, not to mention still feeling half-asleep – and, honestly, not sure she wasn't just dreaming – Lucy complied wordlessly, allowing herself to be led, it turned out, in the direction of the two lifeboats. When it finally clicked that that's where they were headed, Lucy balked, freezing in place and twisting her arm away from the elder Lucy.

Who just shot an exasperated glare in her direction.

Lucy shot an incredulous, questioning expression right back at her, then scanned her gaze desperately around the room for Wyatt. He'd taken up residence on one of the miserable couches in the main area and would surely back her up in terms of resisting the little time machine joy ride that it seemed her older self was insistent upon taking.

But Wyatt, for all intents and purposes, was useless right then, sprawled on his back and snoring softly with one leg dangling over the armrest at the end of the couch.

Instead it was FWyatt – Lucy's mental shorthand for Future Wyatt, to keep the two of them straight in her mind – who sat up on his own uncomfortable couch and offered a silent nod of acknowledgment to the pair of Lucys.

Even more confused than ever, now knowing that the two future counterparts had conspired against her, Lucy refused to budge. At least if Wyatt – her Wyatt… not that he was hers, but still – had also been getting dragged along with her, she'd have felt that much better about things. Even in the worst of times, with Jessica back in the picture, pregnant and supposedly getting the happily ever after with Wyatt that Lucy had only just begun to dare to hope for for herself, she had never once doubted that he would still make the right decisions on missions, and would still do everything in his power to keep her safe. So for as fraught and uncertain as things were between them right now, Lucy would have felt that much better about… whatever this was… if Wyatt had been coming too.

But he was still asleep.

And, for whatever it was worth considering Lucy didn't really trust him right then either, though he was awake, FWyatt wasn't budging either.

Only Future Lucy.

Well, FLucy, if Lucy was going to be consistent about it, she told herself.

On one hand, thinking of this other version of herself as a completely separate entity with her own name actually made things a little easier. Less unnerving than having another one of you around. Still, it couldn't fully hide the fact that FLucy was still Lucy Preston. The Lucy Preston that Lucy was meant to be in four or five years, and one that she just couldn't imagine this version of herself ever being enough to become.

Of course, none of that mattered right then in that instant, with FLucy still staring her down and apparently very much intent on the two of them making the trip alone.

Lucy may not have been able to see much of herself in FLucy, or how she'd come to be her, but in the end, somehow, they still were the same person. And Lucy knew herself well enough to recognize that the urgency in the dark brown gaze staring back at her meant that this was important. To both of them.

So, casting one last rueful glance at Wyatt, still asleep on the awful couch, she sighed. And with a begrudging nod of acknowledgement, not to mention a knot in her stomach, Lucy climbed obediently into the upgraded Lifeboat.

To be continued...