A/N: So, I'm Garcy trash! yes, this story was posted on AO3 under my other pen name mks57 but I wanted to share it here as well. Now, I'm sure this has been written to death. So here's another to add to the pile as I just got inspired by the recent episode and had to write. I hope you enjoy and it's AU as I know I've gotten some details a little off or hideously wrong! I don't have Season 1 on DVD to double check. So please enjoy and be kind Clockblockers!
Rewrite
New York, 1741.
"You know I never read the last page." Flynn told her, tears filled Lucy's eyes as she pressed her hand against the gunshot wound. But it did nothing to stem the blood that seeped out of him.
"Why wouldn't you? Nearly everybody reads the last page." She told him, completely irrational as there was nothing she could do. He was dying and she couldn't save him. But she also couldn't leave him to be some forgotten, unidentified body in the past. This wasn't supposed to happen, he shouldn't be dying.
"I don't. I guess I'm just not a fan of endings or goodbyes." Flynn said with a playful smile, before his expression drooped away, his eyes grew glassy.
"No, no." Lucy said shaking her head, tears slid down her face as she couldn't handle it. "Flynn." She prompted him, but he didn't move, he stopped breathing, he was gone.
"Lucy! We got a go." Wyatt said softly, as he gently tried to pull her away from Flynn's lifeless body.
"No," She said as she couldn't let him go. Wyatt persisted, but she shook her head. "We can't leave him like this!" She told him.
"He's gone. He wouldn't want you to stay here and get caught. Now come on!" Wyatt told her, but she wouldn't listen and he wouldn't let her stay because the next thing she knew he pulled her off the floor. She knew she would never forgive Wyatt or herself.
Three years later after Flynn's death in 1741, it was 2021.
Lucy sat at the desk in her room and picked up the bottle of vodka. She uncapped it and with a shaky hand poured herself another drink.
Tears ran down her face, as she couldn't believe so much time had passed. It was like a blink of an eye since Flynn died, but it also felt like a lifetime of grief. It wasn't fair, she was supposed to help him, she was supposed to get her sister back. She was supposed to have brought Rittenhouse down, so many things she had failed at.
They were still fighting, they were still in a bunker. Just it was a different location, but they were all the same concrete walls, the same fluorescent lights and terrible plumbing.
She was so tired. She looked at the journal, the Journal that started it all. It made her bitter as it ruined her life. In her drunken state, she just fet like burning the thing given all it had done was bring misery to her. She downed her drink and picked up the journal, she moved to the fire stove and tossed it onto the small live embers.
She watched as it caught on fire and felt relief, but as she watched one of the pages burn and curl up. It struck her.
She remembered when Flynn told her that she gave him the Journal. A bar in San Paolo in 2016. She started the loop that brought him into her life. His last confession to her of how he never read the last page. For the first time in years, she felt hope. The one thing she needed was burning right in front of her.
"Shit!" She cursed as she reached in not even thinking and pulled the book out. She cursed again as she smacked out the flames with her bare hands. She felt like a moron, she hissed in pain as she looked at her hands. The burns didn't look too bad.
She looked down at the charred journal and knew it wouldn't do. But knowing what she had to do, motivated her. She picked up the journal and tossed it onto the desk. She moved to the bed and pulled out her go bag where she kept the empty Journal her mother had given her.
How he said that she could write her own history. She smiled in what felt like the first in a very long time as she took the brand new, completely untarnished journal to the desk.
She sat down and looked at the task before her. She knew she could do this. In doing this, maybe she could bring him back.
She picked up the pen and opened up to the first page. She put pen to paper. She half expected writer's block, but it didn't happen as the words flowed out onto the paper. She wrote nearly from memory of the first journal. Then she added her own notes, she looked through the original and realised she needed more tools.
She pushed back her chair and raced out her room. Luckily, it was late at night as majority of the team were asleep. She went to Agent Christopher's desk and stole every pen, paper clips and blu tack she could find. She grabbed the stapler and raced back to her room. She dropped her bounty onto the desk and locked her door. She couldn't afford another second of distraction.
She sat down at the desk, invigorated. She took a deep breath and exhaled as she picked up the pen once again and put it to paper.
"She's been in there for days." Jiya said to Rufus in a low voice, she felt stupid as they were watching Lucy's door to see if she would surface.
"At least she's eating." Rufus offered, she gave him an incredulous look as they both knew it wasn't healthy. Hell, them standing outside like they were observing Lucy like she was wildlife wasn't ideal either. But they had tried knocking only for Lucy to shout at them to go away.
"Yes, but maybe it's time we just open the door-" Jiya stopped as Lucy's door open. She looked at them with a wary expression.
"What are you all doing out here?" Lucy asked them, she clutched the journal to her chest. She had barely slept for days. She was sure she stank to high heaven and looked terrible but she had finished the journal. She had poured her heart and soul along with every single detail she could think of and remember of her time travel and Rittenhouse. It was basically everything. She knew what she had to do.
"We were just walking by." Jiya lied smoothly.
"Here you are, outside of your room." Rufus added awwardly, Lucy cracked a pained smile as the two were so adorable. She felt bad for making them worry about her.
"What's with the journal?" Jiya asked with curiosity. Lucy smiled.
"I figured it out." Lucy told them as she wished she had time to make herself presentable. But now would have to do.
"Figured out what?" Rufus asked her.
"I have to go Sao Paolo, 2016." Lucy told him a more precise time and location as she remembered Flynn telling her. She had thought he hadn't, but luckily she found it in the original journal.
"Ignoring the tiny problem about what happens when we travel to a time we existed. What happens on that year?" Rufus asked, he looked so concerned as did Jiya.
"I started this, I started all of this with my journal. I have to do it again." Lucy told him.
"But we haven't figured it out" Rufus told her.
"I don't care. You said the pilot died because he stepped out of the Mothership and met himself. He died because he saw himself. I'm not in Sao Paolo in 2016. So, just take me there. You can stay inside. I know and understand all the risks. But can't you see it's what I'm supposed to do?" She asked him.
"I think it's a terrible idea given it could kill us as it breaks the golden rule of time travel. Also, going back in time won't save anyone we've lost. It won't save Flynn. The loop will run the same way, he will die every time to protect you. Somethings are just set in stone." Rufus told her as gently as he could, but Lucy shook her head.
"No, I know, but the thing is that if I don't give him the diary, none of this will happen. I have to give him the diary." Lucy told him
"She's right." Jiya said.
"You agree with her?" Rufus asked her incredulously.
"It's a predestined paradox. If she doesn't go back, then we never get here and now. It's just like saving Agent Christopher and making sure she joins the FBI and follows the same path. If Flynn doesn't get the diary, he doesn't steal the mothership and Agent Christopher doesn't pull the team together to follow him." Jiya argued.
"And we can't know for sure if I'll die or not. But I did it once before." Lucy told Rufus.
"No, it's pretty likely." Rufus assured her.
"Well, I don't care. It has to be done." Lucy told him firmly.
"We should talk about this as a group. Get the others together-" Rufus started but Lucy cut him off.
"No! we can't, they'll just stop us. Please I'm begging you." Lucy implored. Rufus looked uneasy but Jiya took Lucy's side much to her relief.
"You're the better pilot. You know this has to be done. There's also the fact that you're not supposed to die in Sao Paolo." Jiya told Rufus, offering a plausible reason why he should be safe to travel with Lucy. He frowned and looked away as he truly was conflicted.
"We'd be setting a murderer loose through history." He reminded Lucy.
"I know but it's how it's supposed to be. We eventually needed him and he helped us. That shouldn't be forgotten." Lucy told him. Rufus nodded.
"Yeah, I'll do it. But one condition." He said holding up his finger. "We never do this again unless there physical evidence of our presence in that time and place." He told her and Jiya, he gave an aggrieved sigh before he looked at Lucy. "Actually it's two conditions, you gotta shower and change clothes. Maybe brush your teeth." He told her.
Lucy lifted her hand up and in front of her mouth, a blush graced her cheeks as she caught a whiff of her own breath.
"Give me fifteen minutes." She told him.
Sao Paolo, Brazil, 2016.
Lucy saw him sitting at the bar and she clutched the diary to her chest. She was grateful she showered and changed into clean clothes. She remembered when he first told her about how they met the first time. She would never admit it to anyone, but she had upped her game as she wanted him to still say she was beautiful. Or at least struggle to downplay as he did. She walked towards him with purpose, every emotion running through as she saw her enemy, she saw the murderer but she also saw a man who redeemed himself, a man who became so much more than a friend to her.
She sat down in the empty chair beside him and ordered a drink. She turned to him, her heart broke as he looked so incredibly broken. The bartender placed her drink on the bar for her.
"Garcia Flynn." She said, he looked at her with wary eyes.
"About time you caught up to me." He drawled as he took a sip of his drink. She heard the safety click off his gun. The bar was dark but she was sure the gun was trained on her.
"I don't have a lot of time." She told him, she took a sip of her drink as she needed the liquid courage.
"Before I shoot you? No, not much time at all." He promised her before he took a sip of his drink. "So perhaps you should speak quickly." He told her as he placed his glass on the bar in a slow and thoughtful manner.
"My name is Lucy Preston, I know everything about you, Flynn." She told him, he looked her way through narrowed eyes of suspicion. "I know two weeks ago you lost your wife and daughter. I know you didn't kill them. They were murdered. I know you're sitting here on your third drink. The only thing that is stopping you from killing yourself is the idea of killing the monsters who destroyed your life. I know who they are and I can get you to them." She told him, making the promises she knew she couldn't keep. She could only hope he would forgive her.
"Go on." He told her.
She did, she told him everything about Rittenhouse and how they killed his family. How insidious they were, "But you can't stop them alone, you need my help." She told him as she picked up the journal from her lap and held it out to him.
"You?" He scoffed with an amusing smile. Her heart ached as she had missed him so much. She hadn't realised how much until she sat here; remembering their time together. The only comfort she could draw was that it would all happen again. With hope, it would work out better this time.
"Yes, you'll need this. It's everything you need." She told him as she held the journal out to him. He looked wary but he took the journal from her.
She remembered how he said she just walked out. But this time it would be different. It had to be different.
"Promise me, you'll read it all, that you'll read every single page even the last page." She told him, he frowned at her. "Promise me." She prompted him, fiercely as she needed him to read those last few pages. He gave her an apathetic shrug but she knew better. She knew his brain was ticking along a million miles an hour planning and dying to read the book.
"You have my word. I'll read every page." He promised her, she looked at him for a long moment, just soaking in the sight of him; one last time before she turned and walked away.
Bunker, Undisclosed Location, 2021.
Rufus landed the lifeboat back inside the bunker. He undid his buckles and jumped out of his seat and moved to Lucy.
"Am I still in one piece?" He asked her, he checked himself over. She couldn't help but smile as she loved how he had helped her knowing full well it could all go pear shape, that they could be dead in seconds or whatever was supposed to happen by travelling into their own time.
"Yes." She replied.
"You feel ok?" He asked her, she nodded but she had no idea. She knew she was alive, but what came next? She had no idea. All she knew was that her chest was tight knots of fear and hope jumbled together. Her head was swimming, it was now or never.
The door opened and she undid her restraints. She followed out of the lifeboat.
"Did you really think you could just take off like that without anyone noticing?" Mason asked them angrily.
"Where the hell have you been?" Agent Christopher asked both well within their rights to be angry and concerned.
"Ah um. Lucy?" Rufus drawled, looking to Lucy for help and also because he knew what she did. But she was no help to Rufus and she didn't care that they were in trouble as she was looking straight at Flynn.
There he was standing there. Leaning against the wall like he always did. Her heart pounded as she had expected it to be a sleep deprived, vodka time travel induced hallucination. But he just smiled, just as he always did. Roguishly handsome, so very much alive.
All she saw was him as she walked past the others right to him. A smile on her lips. She couldn't hold back the tears. She was so happy to see him.
"You read the last page." She said in a breathless voice as she reached out and touched him. She smiled as her hands met solid, warm flesh and bones.
"I am a man of my word." He looked thoughtful, then gave a boyish smile "Well, most of the time." Flynn told her with a wink. She couldn't help but laugh but they soon dissolved into tears; a mixture of sadness, relief and happiness.
She covered her mouth to muffle the sob as she couldn't stop the out pour of emotions. He wrapped her up in his arms. She just cried, grateful it worked. She soaked it all up as he was alive and safe. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his chest, felt his heart beat at a steady pace. The warmth of his body. Knowing that this was how it was supposed to be.
The End
