A/N: Hello! Today, I bring you this fic that that no one asked for lmao. The concept is: broken Future Lyatt lands in 2023 where they're married with twins and have to figure out their shit. I know this didn't happen on the show and effectively our Lyatt's happiness erases Future Lyatt's existence but let's say it didn't and this is what Future Lyatt came home to when they left the bunker in that rusted junker of a Lifeboat.
I have written all of this. It totals at just over 50k words. I will be posting it in five 10k installments. Making this a sort of "five shot" I guess. I was intending this as an epic one shot but that is just FAR too much to throw at you at once. Hopefully this makes it easier to read and process.
Hope you like it! This one literally flowed out of me like a fic hasn't done in ages. So much fun.
Happy reading!
angellwings
PS - This is deffo gonna be rated M, which means it'll be lost to the search filters on FFN, but oh well.
Let The Broken Pieces Go
By angellwings
PART ONE: The Dark
"I can't find you in the dark.
Will we get back to who we are?
And I can't fix this on my own.
Our love is still the best thing I've ever known."
-"Heart Shaped Wreckage", SMASH
"You okay?" Wyatt barks out as the Lifeboat comes to a startling stop.
More startling than normal considering this is an obsolete version of their ship. She lets her chin drop to her chest and furrows her brow as she breathes through a wave of nausea. She's glad he was able to fly them back because her head aches and her ears are still ringing.
She picks her head up with one last deep breath and nods with closed lids. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
"Do you ever tell me the truth anymore?" He asks with an irritated huff.
She opens her eyes slowly as a pack of travel tissues is dropped in her hands and then gives him a critical glare. "Where the hell do you get off—"
He cuts her off without even the barest flinch at her tone or her glare. "Your nose is bleeding. I know you're lying because your nose is bleeding. Jesus, Lucy. I told you we shouldn't have done this. What if we go out there and nothing is different, huh? Just like the last fucking time you did this."
"Then we do it again and again and again until something changes," she tells him as she opens the pack and holds a tissue to her nose. "We chip away at it until he's back where he belongs."
He shuts his eyes tight and shakes his head. "You can't go back again. You know you can't. Your body can't take a third—"
"I don't fucking care," she tells him through gritted teeth. They have had this argument too many times. It never changes. "It would be worth it if it meant we bring him home."
"You really think that's what Rufus would want?"
She scoffs at his concerned blue gaze and shakes her head. "He's dead and until he's alive again his opinion doesn't matter. The bottom line is that you and I cannot do this without him so we go back for as many trips as it takes."
"No, sorry, I'm overruling you. If we have to go again then I'm going alone. This entire shitshow is my goddamn fault to begin with and I'm not gonna let you fucking stroke out in 2018. You've been back twice, I've been back once. If this trip didn't work then I'm going again on my own. If you've got a problem with that then you can take it up with Jiya," He orders in a raised voice with an adamant shake of his head.
She laughs bitterly and opens her mouth to speak but his eyes narrow and he snaps at her before she can.
"Do not give me that fucking line about not taking orders," he says heatedly. "You're gonna take this one, Preston, and you're gonna shut up about it. Now, let's get this the hell over with." Before she has a chance to argue he slaps the button for the hatch and it slides open.
She watches with bated breath as it creaks out of the way to reveal The Bunker, looking nearly the same as the one they just left. But it's different somehow. Brighter, happier, warmer. She spots why almost immediately and nearly breaks her neck excitedly climbing down from the Lifeboat with Wyatt hot on her heels. She doesn't stop until her arms lock around a figure she hasn't seen in five long years — five traumatizing years.
It worked this time. They did it. Because right there, in the shared embrace of herself and Wyatt Logan, is Rufus Carlin. Back from the dead. She hasn't cried in at least two years, but that all changes the minute he speaks. Because it's just so Rufus and it proves that she's not dreaming.
"What the fuck kind of dead animal is on Wyatt's face?"
It's rude and awkward and it can't be anything but reality. A soggy laugh escapes her throat. The sound is so foreign that she's not sure it came from her. It couldn't have come from her. But she knows it did. Rufus is back and with him comes her ability to laugh.
"Safe bet," Rufus says as she and Wyatt pull away from him. "You're not from this timeline, are you?"
It's only then that Lucy notices the other people in the room. Denise. Mason. People they lost early on. But no Flynn. Jiya's face is familiar, though much less careworn. She's happy and also jealous that her teammate got a fresh memory. She doesn't remember all the shit that got them here.
"Safe bet," Wyatt agrees as he too finally takes in their surroundings.
"What's your history?" Denise asks, Lucy sees concern shining in her eyes. The concern of a mother. God, she missed that. She resists the urge to hug her. She's not that Lucy anymore. She's not the Lucy that throws her entire body into an exuberant embrace.
"We were still fighting Rittenhouse, but all that was left was the two of us, Jiya, and Flynn," Lucy informs them. Wyatt's jaw clenches the way it always does when Flynn is mentioned, but he doesn't add anything. Surprisingly.
"Jessica came back for you two?" Jiya asks, but she seems to already know their answer.
"Yeah," Wyatt answers with a scoff. "Did she not for all of you?"
"Not for them," Jiya tells him as she motions to Mason, Denise, and Rufus. "But she came back for me." Jiya and Rufus exchange worried glances before Jiya asks another question. "This may be awkward, but, um, what's your relationship status? Like are you...together?"
Lucy quirks a brow at them and then briefly glances at Wyatt out of the corner of her eye. "No."
Mason and Christopher look shocked, beyond shocked really. They look like some essential law of the Universe has just been broken. That's when Lucy knows.
This timeline is likely the polar opposite of theirs.
"So your Wyatt took the hint about the Journal?" Lucy asks in order to avoid discussing her and Wyatt's relationship any further.
"He did. He wanted to remove Jessica from the timeline himself but Flynn beat him to it," Jiya says with a solemn nod as she meets Lucy's gaze. "He gave up his life to take out Jessica. That was five years ago now."
She feels Wyatt's gaze shift to her and Lucy tries to swallow down the lump in her throat. Flynn's dead. That's why he's not in the Bunker. Flynn's dead.
That relationship ended badly but she still had a history with him. There was a level of understanding there that she didn't have with anyone else. Solace, comfort, no fear of judgement. Even after things ended. She couldn't talk to Jiya. Jiya retreated inward, and with the exception of calling the shots for their missions, she never spoke to any of them. Talking to Wyatt was too complicated and awkward. The distance between them is so large that Lucy can't imagine them ever bridging it. So, really, there was no choice but Flynn.
"He went back into the timeline and took out Jessica?" Lucy asks once she's had a moment to process. That was not what she expected to happen.
Rufus nods. "Saved my life. Turns out he was a hero all along. Sort of."
"Look at that," Wyatt says with a sneer. "Your boyfriend finally did something for someone else. Too bad it's too little too late."
She's accustomed to how his anger has made him cruel but their teammates aren't. Rufus glares at Wyatt while the others visibly flinch.
She scoffs in return and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, maybe it was, but he still managed to do the one thing you never could. Take out Jessica."
Its a low blow and she knows it, but dammit he started it. The startled looks and Rufus's glare now turn on her.
"What—what the hell happened to you two?" Rufus sputters in disbelief. "What could have happened to make you...Jesus. Do you even like each other anymore?"
They exchange a look. It's a deceptively indifferent glance that they've perfected through the years. It's a mask, a lie, an act. They've been playing one massively long game of emotional chicken since the day Rufus died and neither of them see that ending now.
"We don't have to like each other to work together," Lucy answers, managing to dodge the question without actually answering it.
"And with you back and Rittenhouse gone, I'm guessing?" He pauses and Rufus nods. "We don't even have to do that anymore."
Those words actually cut her. She's built up a pretty thick skin against Wyatt Logan but that sentiment pierces right through it. He's right. There's nothing connecting them anymore. No mission keeping them tied to each other. They can go their separate ways and never look back. It's all she's wanted since he brought Jessica to the bunker all those years ago but now that it's here…
There's a mild swell of panic blooming in her chest. Love him or hate him, it doesn't matter, but who the hell is she without Wyatt Logan? She doesn't think she knows anymore or even understands what that means. But she guesses that now is when she finds out.
"Actually," Rufus says with a wince. "It's not quite as simple as parting ways forever."
"What do you mean?" Wyatt asks with a furrowed brow.
Lucy doesn't quite like the sound of that either.
"It's just that while the two of you have been fighting for your lives, in whatever post-apocalyptic world you came from, the you that I know has gotten married and built a life together," Rufus tells them with a small smile.
The idea of being married to Wyatt hits some emotional part of her that she thought she cut out and threw away long ago. But instead of letting anyone see that or speaking her vulnerable truth, she goes for cynical obvious.
"Not exactly an unsolvable problem, Rufus. Divorce still exists in this timeline, right?" She says in a snippy tone.
She thinks she sees a flash of hurt across Wyatt's face but she couldn't have. She was projecting, seeing what she wanted to see. She's done that with Wyatt before.
Rufus looks like she's knocked the wind out of him as he replies. "Yeah, yeah it still exists and you could do that, but you'd still have to co-parent. So that won't cut ties either."
Rufus knows he's delivered a shocking blow. His hesitant grimace reflects that.
"Co-parent?" Wyatt asks as his near permanent scowl fades into something much softer. Something she rarely sees anymore. Hope. "The other us had a kid?"
"Kids, plural, actually," Denise clarifies. "Fraternal twins, two girls."
Her mouth drops open and her eyes instantly water. The version of her that they know is happily married to Wyatt with two little girls. Oh god, did her life ever sound perfect? Once upon a time, it would have been all that she wanted, but now...now it's too late. She's lost Wyatt forever and maybe even lost herself forever. She's much too damaged to raise two girls.
There's an emotional catch in Wyatt's throat as he asks more questions. "How old? What are their names?"
"They're four."
Four? They only left the journal five years in the past! The other them must have gotten their shit together pretty quickly. If only they could have done the same.
"And their names are Amy Henri and Flynn Sherwin Preston-Logan."
The awe in Wyatt's face is wiped away and replaced with a bitter hardness almost instantly. He turns accusing eyes on Lucy with a scoff.
"Go figure. One of our daughters is named after Flynn. I wonder who's idea that was?" He asks in a huff.
Jiya's eyes narrow into a glare at Wyatt as she comes to stand between them. "Uh, yours, dude. You picked that name. Not Lucy. Other you got over himself and realized exactly what Flynn sacrificed so the rest of us could be happy. You might want to do the same. Especially for the particular little girl who wears that name."
Wyatt looks appropriately scolded and nods with a solemn expression. "Understood."
"Do you want to see them?" Denise asks hopefully.
Wyatt nods and steps forward but Lucy can't bring herself to. Right now, these little girls are just conjecture. Theory. But the minute she sees them then this entire timeline is real. She and Wyatt are married. They have children, and probably a perfect little house that's cluttered and crazy but warm. The image appears in her head of a version of her who got almost everything she ever wanted.
She sees her and Wyatt totally in love like they almost were, she sees herself moving in with him into some cramped apartment ready to start a new life, she sees herself with a swollen pregnant belly proud and glowing, beaming at Wyatt. She sees all the things that will never really be hers. All the things she can never have.
"Lucy?" Denise asks in concern.
"I—I can't," Lucy admits with a thick swallow and a shake of her head. "I'm not...they're not...I'm not the Lucy any of you knew. This isn't my life."
Tears are stinging her eyes and for the first time in years she sees Wyatt reach for her. He thinks better of it and pulls his hand back, but she saw it. "Lucy—"
"I can't be what they need," Lucy says as she turns her watery gaze to Wyatt and yet still takes an instinctive step away from him. "I—I'm too damaged. No. No."
"Hey, look, I'm right here with you, okay?" Wyatt says softly. It's the opposite of his earlier tone and she finds it disconcerting. He hasn't spoken to her that tenderly in longer than either of them care to admit. "We're in the same boat. Just like always." He chuckles and gives her a dry sideways grin. "We're always the only two people in damn boat no matter how unprecedented the situation."
Despite the fear and the grief that still sits in her chest, she feels a grin tug at her lips and amused snort escape her.
"You'd think the universe would give one of them a turn," she replies as she motions to Rufus and the others.
"You'd think," he agrees with a tiny smirk. "So, you coming?"
How is it that, despite years of resentment and turmoil, he still knows her so well?
She gulps, takes a deep breath, and nods. "Yes. God help me, yes."
He doesn't reach for her again, thankfully. But he does wait for her to reach him before taking a step forward. As they pass Rufus and Jiya she sees them communicate something to each other with a grin and a glance. They're likely under the mistaken impression that one moment of understanding means things between her and Wyatt can be mended. It doesn't. They can't. She's known this for years.
She and Wyatt have had their "moments" over time. With shared space and a history like theirs it would be impossible not to. Every now and then she found herself in his bed or him in hers but it was usually out of shared grief or anger. It was quick and heated and once it was over they acted like it never happened. There was no cuddling after, no talking. They sought each other out, took the comfort they needed, and then went their separate ways. In all those "moments" not one of them led to anything being mended.
If it were going to happen, it would have by now. No, she and Wyatt are beyond repair. Even if they now have children to think about, she can't see how that will change anything between them.
Denise leads them down the hall to what was once Jiya and Lucy's room. She opens the door slowly, careful not to let it creak. Wyatt sucks in a startled breath as two little heads come into view. Dark waves spill over their shoulders with creamy pale complexions. Big innocent eyes are closed with long lashes fluttering against their cheeks.
"They...they look like you, Lucy," he says in a warm whisper.
That's funny because all she can see, when she looks at their faces, is him. One of them has his nose, the other his mouth, both their faces are round like his—yes they have her coloring, but all she sees is him.
And that's when the panic hits her.
It's too real. Too fast.
She left a world in which she was fighting for her life and never once stopped to think about marriage or children and now she is a part of one where that's her whole life? It's too much. Too important. These girls need a mother. She is not a mother. She is hardened and tired and not anywhere close to the role model they deserve.
Wyatt steps into the room and kneels between the beds. She doesn't understand how he's able to bear it. How can he stand there and look at them and not feel like…like...
Like drowning.
She takes a loud gasping breath as the image of water rushing in her car windows floods her senses. She thought she had a handle on this by now. She hadn't had one of these episodes since before...since before Jessica.
She turns on her heel and runs. Wyatt looks up as she leaves but doesn't move. He hasn't been the one to comfort her in the last few years. She suspects it's not an instinct he has anymore.
She runs to the bunker bathroom and shuts the door behind her. One hand goes to her forehead and the other to her chest as she tries to shove the images of her accident away and breathe.
A small hand lands on her shoulder and she turns to find Jiya looking at her with concerned eyes. "You okay?" She asks.
She swings her head wildly from side to side. "No. No, I'm not okay. This...them. All of it! This is not my life! How am I supposed to—" The tears that have threatened to fall all night finally spill over and drip down her cheeks. "I can't do this, Jiya. I can't."
"I think you can," Jiya assures her. "Every version of Lucy Preston that I've ever met has been stronger than she believed. You're no different."
"You don't understand," she says as she angrily swipes at her cheeks. "Looking at them physically hurts. This is everything I never dared to want. This other me...she—she got the future I secretly hoped for. Wyatt. The kids—"
"Tenure," Jiya added with a sympathetic smile.
Lucy let out a scoffing laugh. "Right, of course. She got fucking tenure too." Her face crumples at the fantasy life that's coming true before her very eyes. She should be happy, ecstatic even, but it's not that simple anymore. "She got Wyatt and then everything else fell into place didn't it? Like dominoes." She stops trying to wipe away the tears. They're falling too hard and fast now. There's no point. "Once upon a time, this is all I ever wanted from him but it can't work now. After all the damn pain we've inflicted on each other...it's just too goddamn late. And now I have to suffer through the pain of losing a dream I never had the chance to enjoy. Do you know what that feels like?"
Jiya's eyes are watering too as she shakes her head in reply.
"My heart broke over Wyatt Logan five years ago, Jiya, but somehow...somehow I think it's breaking all over again," she explains before speaking becomes impossible. She can barely hold herself upright as it is. She finds the nearest wall and slides down against it. Everything aches and she wants to curl up in a ball and just give up. Because even in a timeline where she's supposedly happy, there's no hope to be found. Not for her.
She's still in love with a man who likely hates her and now they have two children that she is in no way equipped to care for.
How does she do this without shattering what's left of her battered heart?
The answer comes to her much too quickly. She can't.
Arms go around her and hold her tightly as she cries. Based on the lithe frame that has slid down to the floor next to her she knows it's Jiya. She grabs onto her desperately. She needs the comfort of a friend and she has dearly missed being friends with Jiya. Lucy hears Jiya sniffle and knows the younger woman is crying with her.
"I'm sorry, Lucy," Jiya says in a voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I know this seems impossible now, but it will get better. It will."
Jiya's right. That does seem impossible.
Wyatt watches Lucy run away with a thick swallow. He wants to go after her but in the state he's in…
He gives Jiya a pleading look. "Do you mind…"
"I'm on it," she answers before he can finish his sentence.
He glances between the sleeping daughters he's just met one more time before standing and quietly leaving the room. Denise's phone buzzes in her pocket and she gives Wyatt an apologetic look as she excuses herself. Leaving Wyatt alone with Rufus.
Wyatt feels his eyes watering and he's certain they're red and raw by the time he finally works up the composure to look at Rufus.
"This is…" he can't even find the words for it. There's a pounding incessant pain in his chest that hasn't stopped since Rufus mentioned he and Lucy were married. Just when he thinks he's recovered from it, it strikes again. And that's when he finds the words. "Torture. This is torture."
Rufus gives Wyatt a startled look before he closes the door to the girls' room and then motions for Wyatt to follow him down the hall. They stop in front of the familiar giant fan. The one that haunts him with his last true memories of happiness.
"Torture?" Rufus asks with a furrowed brow. "Having kids is torture?"
"No! That's not what I—" He abruptly stops and runs a hand over his face to try and sooth away the frustration. "It's not the kids—well not just the kids. It's the entire picture. It's like someone is taunting me with all the ways I could have been happy if I wasn't such a stupid bastard. I had the potential to be this man. The man who deserved Lucy and had two of the most beautiful little girls I've ever seen. I—goddamnit—I wasted so much time on Jessica. I believed her! I believed that she and I had a kid out there somewhere and pushed Lucy away because of it. I—I loved Lucy but I pushed her away."
Tears sting his eyes as he shakes his head at his own stupidity.
"I pushed her away when I should have held on and if I hadn't then I...god, I could have actually had this. I could have been with Lucy all this time and watched those girls grow up for four years. I mean, they—look at them, Rufus. They're perfect. You know, of course they're perfect. They take after—" He stops and for some reason he can't bring himself to finish that sentence.
Those girls are the product of a love that he carelessly threw away while standing in this very spot just over five years ago. He'd always wondered what if and now...that what if is staring him in the face.
"I could have been happy," he repeats as he meets Rufus's eyes again. "I could have been happy all this time, but I fucked it up. God, I fucked it up so badly."
"Fine, so you fucked it up," Rufus says as he places a reassuring hand on Wyatt's shoulder. "Now fix it."
"Rufus, it's not that easy," Wyatt replies with a shake of his head.
"I didn't say it would be easy. I said fix it," Rufus repeats with determination.
"She doesn't want me to fix it," He says with a shake of his head. "She doesn't want me at all. You saw us back there. How...how do I fix that? How do I even start? I don't like the way I talk to her. I hate myself every time I take a jab at her. But I can't seem to help it."
"Then why do it?"
"Because...I don't know. I guess because it's easier to yell at each other than to actually talk about anything," Wyatt admits in exasperation.
"Yeah, that's not fucked up at all," Rufus says with a sarcastic snort.
"I don't think it'll come as any surprise to you when I say...yeah, well, Lucy and I are pretty fucked up," Wyatt responds with a tired sigh. "The worst part is that I...I miss her all the time." The tears are returning now and he wipes a hand across his eyes to keep them at bay. "She's been fighting beside of me every day for five years and I've missed her for every second of it."
Even those few nights when they're as together as they can be neither of them are truly present. So he misses her even then. She was his best friend and for one night something infinitely more and now...now they're nothing.
Fuck, if that revelation doesn't threaten to rend him in two.
"How do we do this, man? How do she and I wade through all our shit and parent two little girls? I've never been a parent. I haven't lived this life. I don't want to hurt them, Lucy or the girls."
"There's only one way, Wyatt. There's only one way the two of you survive this without breaking two tiny four year old hearts," Rufus advises as he places both hands on Wyatt's shoulders now. "Together."
He thought defeating Rittenhouse would be the hardest thing he would ever do, but he was wrong. This is going to be the hardest thing he will ever do. Facing up to his past and his mistakes and all his shit. That will be the hardest.
Lucy and Jiya emerge from the bathroom a half hour later. Lucy's face has been washed and her eyes are swollen and glassy. She's clearly been crying, but apart from that her eyes show no trace of sadness.
She approaches Wyatt in the hall and can't seem to find any words. They stare at each other in prolonged silence as Rufus and Jiya watch, holding their breath.
Denise comes back at that moment with her phone in her hand. Effectively saving Lucy from having to say anything at all.
"Everything okay?" Denise asks hesitantly.
"I don't know," Lucy answers with genuine confusion etched across her face.
"Understandable," she answers as she reaches out and squeezes Lucy shoulder. "You two need to figure out a game plan, and what you plan to say to the girls and how you should say it."
"Not here," Lucy replies quickly. "I don't know what to tell them but I don't want to tell them in the Bunker. They should be somewhere they feel safe. Somewhere familiar."
Wyatt agrees with that whole heartedly. It will be hard enough seeing faces that look different, even if the differences are subtle. They shouldn't have to deal with that in this depressing place on top of that.
He nods. "We should take them home, where ever that is."
"You can follow me," Denise insists. "I'll help you get them in the car. They should sleep through it. They can sleep through anything."
Rufus laughs and nods. "Even overly competitive games of Cranium and let me tell you, that's not easy. Last time we played I got a marker thrown at my eye." His gaze turns on Lucy pointedly. "Let it be known that Lucy Preston isn't above sabotage."
Despite her general feeling of being lost in this strange new timeline, she manages a brittle grin. "Or maybe I'm just a klutz."
"A likely story," Rufus says with a scoff. "One I'm not buying for a single second."
They gather the girls and their belongings. Each girl has a backpack and then there's one large joint tote. Neither Lucy or Wyatt had any idea that children required so much stuff. Just as they're closing the back door of their oversized SUV, Jiya comes running up to them with a pair of tiny red western boots in one hand.
"You almost left these behind," she says as she hands them over to Lucy. "That would have been a travesty. Amy would freak. She hasn't taken them off for like two weeks."
Lucy has no idea which one Amy is and no connection to the child sized boots in her hand but she nods her thanks and stows them with Amy's personalized backpack, which is coincidentally covered in a red horseshoe print. She assumes Amy likes horses (or maybe cowboys?).
"Wyatt brought them back from his last field assignment in Colorado," Jiya tells her, sensing that Lucy might need additional information. "He brought Flynn a pair of ski goggles, which she pretends are aviator goggles. Little daredevil girlfriend wants to be Amelia Earhart when she grows up."
Lucy takes a deep calming breath as she files the information away. "Oh god, I have so much to learn about them, don't I?"
Jiya squeezes her arm and gives her a tight hug. "It'll come. As long as you love them, it'll come."
Loving them won't be a problem, she knows. She fell in love with them the minute she saw Wyatt in their tiny faces. No matter where she and Wyatt are with each other, these girls came from both of them. They are products of a love she always wanted but never had a chance to enjoy. She will love them with everything she has. They will be her solace in the midst of her turmoil.
If nothing else, she will figure out how to be the mother they deserve.
They follow Denise to a house that looks exactly as Lucy imagined it. Plenty of space but not too much space. There are two small bikes with training wheels haphazardly strewn across the yard, along with a plastic bat and ball set. The garage has two doors. Wyatt finds the opener clipped to the visor above his head and pulls in. Parked next to them is a silver four door sedan, bland and boring, with two popsicle stick pipe cleaner men hanging from the mirror and carseats in the back. There's a Stanford Faculty parking sticker on the back windshield that Lucy recognizes from her time on staff. She assumes the sedan is hers.
They step out and each take a twin. Denise meets them at the door that leads from the garage to the kitchen and lets them in. She apparently has a key and came in the front door. She leads them up a short set of stairs to a cluttered room with two twin beds and sky blue walls. There's a name hanging above each bed in messily painted wooden blocks. Lucy takes one look at the nightgown on the twin she's holding and grins. She now knows which one she is.
It's a flannel nightgown with a print that features little silhouettes of running horses.
Amy.
She sets her down on the corresponding bed and tucks her in. She smiles softly at the trinkets on the little girls nightstand. The lamp is also a figure of a cowgirl with a lasso raised high in the air and there's a water cup featuring Jessie, the cowgirl from Toy Story. With blankets tucked securely around her, Lucy instinctively places a kiss to the little girl's forehead and backs away. She doesn't know where the urge came from, but she knows it's right. She knows she can't leave the room without also giving one to Flynn. She and Wyatt exchange awkward glances as they trade places.
Lucy sees the goggles Jiya mentioned on Flynn's nightstand along with an illustrated children's biography of Amelia Earhart. There's also a small balsa wood airplane next to a tall thin lamp that she immediately recognizes as a reading lamp with an adjustable arm. The little details make everything feel lived in and ordinary. It should make her panic worse but oddly she finds only comfort. She kisses Flynn's head just as she did Amy's and then quietly heads to the door.
Wyatt takes a little longer than she does and she decides to give him a moment alone. During their stilted eye contact she could see a glassy quality to his eyes that indicated an intense emotion. He hasn't come to her about those emotions, well, ever, so she leaves him to process. She finds Denise waiting for them in living room. She's seated in a plushy dark blue armchair, texting on her phone. Lucy sits down on the messy couch that's situated perpendicular to the chair.
A few minutes later, Wyatt slowly descends the stairs, his face schooled into a bland expression, and comes to stand behind the couch. Both of them are angled toward Denise.
She finishes her text and then apologizes. "Sorry, just letting Michelle know I'll be home a little later than I promised."
"If you need to go then—"
Denise cuts her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Oh, stop. You've been dropped into an unfamiliar situation. I'm not just going to drop you off here and leave." She finishes her text and then puts her phone away in her back pocket. "First, let's catch you up on the basics. Wyatt works for me at Homeland. As of right now, I'm giving him at least a two week leave. I'll check in with you after the New Year. Lucy, you're a professor at Stanford. Today was the last day of fall semester so you're on a break until the New Year as well which is good because they just gave you tenure and I don't think they'd take kindly to a freshly tenured professor going on sabbatical."
Lucy chuckles her agreement and shakes her head. "Probably not."
Lucy notices the corner of Wyatt's mouth twitch upward as Christopher mentions tenure. His emotionless eyes soften and flick over her briefly before they return to Denise. She wonders what exactly he's thinking that almost made him smile, but she knows she'll never find out. She's too emotionally distant from him to ask at the moment.
"I know two weeks probably isn't a lot of time to adjust given how long you've been fighting. Once that two weeks is over we'll decide how we proceed, okay?" Denise asks them in concern.
They both nod wordlessly.
"Now, what do you want to tell the girls in the morning?" Denise asks reluctantly. "Are you both going to stay here with them? Would you be able to do that? I don't know what your relationship or situation is where you're from, but all these girls have ever known is a happy and loving environment. I want you both to do whatever is healthiest for you, but I'd hate to see their sense of security shaken in any way."
Lucy looks over her shoulder at Wyatt and sees the same determination in his eyes that she feels. They don't want that either. They've painfully shared space for the last five years and managed it. They can do it for a while longer while they figure out where they stand.
"We'll both stay here," Lucy answers as she looks to Wyatt for confirmation.
He nods and swallows thickly. "I, uh, saw a guest bedroom next to the girls' room. I can stay there while we work out a more permanent solution."
"I think that's the right call," Denise agrees. "In the meantime, Wyatt, I'm setting up an appointment with one of Homeland's therapists—"
His eyes form a sharp glare and he takes a step closer to the back of the couch. "I don't need some shrink telling me how fucked up I am. Besides, what am I supposed to tell him, huh? I'm guessing time travel isn't any less classified in this timeline than ours—"
"If you want to keep your job," Denise orders sternly. "You will show up to whatever appointment I set. Otherwise, your leave becomes a bit more permanent. Understood?"
His jaw clenches. Lucy watches the muscles flex before he finally puffs out a frustrated sigh and rolls his neck as if he's preparing for a fight. "Understood, Agent Christopher."
The address in his statement is so angry and impersonal. Lucy bites back her wince. He's going to be irritated for the rest of the night now. She'll have to listen to him brooding long after Christopher leaves.
"And I know I'm not your boss or your mother, Lucy, and I have no right to tell you to do anything, but you might want to start seeing someone too," Christopher suggests in a more gentle tone as her eyes find Lucy's.
Lucy has no plans to cry on a stranger's couch and let them analyze all of her mistakes or tell her how her mother's controlling nature impacts her daily life. She already understands both of those things. But for Denise's sake she says, "I'll consider it."
"That's all I ask," Denise tells her before her eyes take on a stern stare. "Honestly, if I had the authority to force you to go too, I would. No one is prepared to deal with the trauma of what you two have been through. Especially not alone." She levels them both with her best scolding look and points in the direction of Amy and Flynn's room. "Those little girls deserve you both at your best and there's no shame in letting other people help you get there."
Lucy's determination to dismiss Christopher's advice wavers as she brings up the twins. It's a damn good point and Lucy wants nothing more than to be the version of herself that they knew. Joyful and satisfied with her circumstances. Comfortable in the world around her. Strong enough to handle their fears and her own. She doubts her capacity to do that in her current state, but maybe she could manage it with help.
"I—" Lucy cuts off her automatic response that would have been intended to merely placate Denise, and instead gives her a genuine reply. "Do you...do you have anyone you recommend?" She asks. "I wouldn't know where to start."
Denise sighs in relief and smiles warmly. "I can get you a list of names and phone numbers in the next few days."
"Thank you," she says quietly. She doesn't want to do it. In fact, she's dreading it with every bit of mental stability she has left. But she'll do anything to make sure those girls are happy and healthy and safe.
"Happy to do it," Denise tells her as she reaches across the distance between them and squeezes her hand. "Alright," she says as she stands from the arm chair. "I'm going to go. Something tells me you two need to talk. Probably without an audience."
"Probably, unless you want to call a total stranger to sit and observe us. You know, since we're such a danger to ourselves and all," Wyatt snaps with a hard roll of his eyes and a scoff.
"You know, Wyatt, when you showed up in 2018 five years ago, the other you - the one I knew - got a much needed smack in the head. He saw in you all of his worst fears, not just for himself but for Lucy too, and it scared the sense back into him," Denise says through a tense jaw.
Lucy can see the sadness and frustration in her eyes. As tough as this is for them, it must be worse for their friends. She and Wyatt aren't going to be easy to deal with.
"Your point?" Wyatt asks with an annoyed scowl.
"No point," she replies in exasperation. "I'm just hoping you'll look in the mirror and see what he saw. An angry man with no one and nothing because he chose to drown in self hatred. It might be the only thing that will save you. After all, it saved him. You saved him."
The scowl falls from his face and his eyes drop to the floor. His shoulders slump and he steps back to lean against the far wall. Those words have hit him square in the chest and it's beyond obvious. Lucy has seen Wyatt react in a variety of ways to words from friends and enemies alike but she's never seen him retreat so far so quickly. If she hadn't witnessed the interaction herself, she would think Christopher had slapped him.
"Have a good night, you two," Denise says with one last sad glance at Wyatt. "If you need me I'm only a phone call away, okay?"
Lucy stands from the couch and surprises herself by eagerly wrapping her arms around Denise in a tight embrace. It's then that she remembers how different things were just a few hours ago. Denise was dead and now she's here offering advice and lectures like the parents Lucy no longer had. She's being forceful with them because she cares — because she's worried. Neither she nor Wyatt have had that in quite some time.
Lucy's eyes are watering as she continues to hug Denise. She feels Denise's arms squeeze her just as tightly and hears a ragged breath escape the senior Homeland Security Agent.
"Thank you," Lucy whispers through her own tears. "Thank you for being here."
"Anytime," Denise replies before she places a motherly kiss on Lucy's cheek. "You four mean the world to me. When I say I'm only one phone call away, I mean it. Alright?"
Lucy pulls out of the hug and nods while she breathes through the tears in her eyes. "Okay."
Denise pats her cheek with a loving soft smile and then steps away. She glances past Lucy to Wyatt again.
"Good night, Wyatt," she says with a tired sigh.
He looks up from the floor and gives her a weak wave. When he speaks his tone is full of remorse, but doesn't apologize. "Good night. Thank you for your help."
"My pleasure," she tells him. Her eyes stay connected to his for a moment. Whatever it is she's trying to communicate Wyatt seems to understand. He releases a breath and stands a little straighter before giving Christopher a clipped nod. Denise nods in reply and then gives them both one final wave.
A moment later she's out the door, locking it behind her with her key, and leaving Lucy and Wyatt truly alone for the first time since they stepped out of the Lifeboat.
Awkward silence descends upon them instantly. They stand across from each other both avoiding any and all eye contact. Finally, Wyatt clears his throat and speaks reluctantly.
"Um, earlier, when we put the girls to bed, how did you know who was who?" He asks.
She laughs lightly and shrugs. "Jiya caught me before we left to give me Amy's red cowboy boots and I wasn't really sure which one was Amy at first, but then I started to notice a trend. Her backpack is covered in horseshoes, her nightgown has horses on it...it all just came together."
Wyatt smirks and nods. "She has red cowboy boots?"
"Apparently, you bought them for her on your last field assignment for Christopher and she hasn't taken them off for two weeks," Lucy says as a full smile takes over her face. "You bought Flynn a pair of ski goggles, by the way. She pretends they're aviator goggles because she wants to be—"
"Amelia Earhart?" Wyatt asks knowingly with his own teeth baring smile. "Yeah, I saw the book on her nightstand and the little plane."
Her eyes are stuck on his smile. She can't seem to look away from it. He can't seem to look away from hers either. A smile, a real smile, is such a strange thing to them both and despite the many unknowns they're currently facing it's a captivating sight.
He lets out a chuckle that sounds like it's full of disbelief. "We have kids. Twin daughters, to be exact."
She nods and feels her eyes crinkle as her smile somehow widens. "And they're perfect."
"Yeah, well, they take after you so that's no surprise," Wyatt says in a shockingly gentle voice.
She blushes and shakes her head. "You and I both know that I am far from perfect." She lets out a self deprecating snort. "I'm actually a big fucking mess. Basically, all the time."
"Me too," he agrees in a hushed tone. He's quiet for a moment before he retreats to the wall again and presses his back against it. He glares at the floor and shakes his head as he continues in a frantic voice. "God, Lucy, who the hell am I kidding? I can't do this. I mean, my dad was a mean bastard. Angry, hateful—two things that I feel almost all the time now. I mean, what if I—what if I'm no better than he is? I can't put them through that. I can't do to them—or you—what he did to me."
He refuses to look up at her as he runs a hand over his beard and then bangs a fist against the wall. She flinches. She can't help it. Wyatt notices and it only causes him to dive deeper into this self loathing spiral he's stumbled into.
"I shouldn't be here," he says insistently. "I should go. They—they'll be better off, you know? I'm not the man they've grown up with and what if I...what if I can never be him? What if I'm doomed to be my old man and all the work I put in to avoid it was useless? No. No, I should find a hotel or something. Get out of your way."
She wants to run away from him when talks like that. She hates it. He underestimates himself. He always has. She knows he's angry. She knows he's disappointed in himself. But he's always been better than he believes. Even when she's pissed at him she knows that. No amount of resentment she harbors toward him could change that essential truth. In fact, she would argue that his lack of belief in himself caused some of their distance.
So, she wants to cover her ears and pretend she doesn't hear him, but she can't. Not when he's talking like he might leave her. He's the only person who's been through what she's been through. He's the only person who will truly understand. The idea of doing this without him sets off panic in her chest. Everything is unfamiliar here and even if they're on awful terms with each other at least she knows him. She knows what to expect from him. He's the only thing she still knows in this foreign timeline. He cannot leave her to deal with this by herself. She'll never survive it. She needs him.
He moves to rush up the stairs, probably to find whatever door hides their bedroom, but she steps in front of him. He nearly knocks her over but manages a halting stop. They are chest to chest and nose to nose. Her tearful gaze catches his and holds it steady.
"If you leave me here alone I will never forgive you, Wyatt Logan," she says with a loud gulping swallow. The tears she'd almost shed with Agent Christopher are back in full force. "Earlier tonight, you said we were in the same boat. You said you were here with me. You've broken promises to me before and that's fine. I understood those choices, but you cannot break this one. You can't. You cannot leave me now."
"Lucy, what if I'm not good enough for them?" He asks her as tears pool in his eyes too. He's speaking to her but his eyes aren't really looking at her. He's lost in his fear. She's only seen him like this one other time. Back before they shredded each other to pieces. "What if I break them the way he broke me?"
Oh god, this man. They have had their issues, still do. He's made mistakes and reacted badly to the people around him. But he could never be that cruel. He's not capable of it. How does he not see that in himself? She takes a deep breath and does exactly what she did the last time he looked this despondent.
She cradles his face in her hands in a desperate grip. She forces his eyes to hers and tries to speak through his insecurities.
"You are not your father, Wyatt. You just aren't."
"How can you say that?" He asks. "I—you've been my collateral damage before. You know how that feels."
She blinks at him in shock. What? He's never struck her. He's never even once acted like he wanted to. How can he think—and then she remembers. She remembers the stray elbow she caught once years ago. "Oh my god, you can't mean—Are you talking about that fight with Flynn?"
"I hit you, Lucy," he says as the tears continue to build in his eyes. "I. Hit. You."
"That was an accident," she reminds him as her tone softens and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. She hasn't been this close or this tender with him in too long. She feels the familiar tug in her heart that always comes with being close to Wyatt in any capacity. This is normally when she would pick a fight, but not now. Not tonight. "You didn't do that maliciously, Wyatt. It wasn't on purpose. I've always known that. Always. I have never once held that against you. Of all the things I have raged at you about, that has never been one of them. Not once. Have you been holding on to that all this time?"
"It shouldn't have happened," he tells her as one tear falls from his eyes and he tries to pull out of her hold.
She holds him firmly so he can't look away and shakes her head. "No, it shouldn't have. That's why it was an accident. You didn't mean to do it. You have hurt me, Wyatt, I will be the first person to tell you that, but you have never made me feel unsafe. I have never once been scared of you. Scared of what you make me feel? Yes. But scared of you? Not ever. I trust you with my life even now. And I trust you with our daughters. It never occurred to me not to. Is that clear?"
"I never meant to hurt you, Lucy. I hate myself for it. I never wanted to hurt you. You have to believe me," he pleads with eyes that are red and raw.
She believes him. She's always believed him. He's so eager for her to know. He's beside himself trying to make her understand. She sucks in a ragged breath as her own tears fall. "I know. I have always known that. I never meant to hurt you either. We were both just trying to make the best out of a bad situation. I get that. You don't have to convince me of that."
"I never meant to hurt you and yet I still did. What if I hurt them too? I destroy everything I touch. They don't deserve that. You don't deserve that. They deserve you. They don't need me. I'm poison, Lucy. I always have been. For Jessica. For you. For Rufus—"
"Stop. God, Wyatt, just stop," she says with breathless sob. He is breaking her heart. She didn't even know she had one left to break but she feels it all the same. "You are not poison. Do you really believe that? Please tell me you don't."
He doesn't say anything and that's as good as any answer he could give her.
Her chin trembles under the strain of holding back her tears and her grip on his face tightens. Her knuckles are white and she wants to get through to him so badly that she nearly shakes him as she speaks. Again, with words that are far away but familiar.
"You're wrong, Wyatt Logan. You cannot be more wrong because I do need you. After all this time, I'm not even sure I know who I am without you. I don't want to figure this out with anyone else. I trust you. I need you." She stops her frantic pleading to breathe in slowly. While she's attempting to calm herself down she feels his hands encircle her waist and hold on tight. Like she's a life preserver in a stormy sea. They have tried to avoid being this physically and emotionally tangled in each other for years, but right now she doesn't give a damn. She cannot let him think so poorly of himself. She can't. "I need you, Soldier. Okay?"
Much like that day at Alamo, his vision clears and he gives her a subtle nod. "Okay."
"Please, don't leave," she begs.
"I won't," he promises. "I won't."
"If I wake up in the morning and you're not here—"
"I won't leave you, Lucy. Not this time," he repeats. "Not unless you kick me out. Which, let's be honest, you might do."
She's ready to scold him when a tiny smirk blossoms on his face. He's joking. Relief floods her chest and her hold on his face relaxes. He's joking.
"Is now really the best time for that joke?" She asks lightly as she fights off a grin.
A watery chuckle escapes him along with a soft sniffle. "Gotta do something to keep from crying, Professor."
"You scared me just now," she tells him honestly. She has to force the words out, but he needs to know. She has to start telling him the truth at some point. Might as well be now.
"I scared myself," he admits with a shaky sigh. "I'm sorry."
"After this, do you still think therapy is a bad idea?" She asks him hesitantly.
He winces at her words and she prepares herself for the sarcastic jab, but it never comes. Instead he says, "I might be coming around to it."
To say she's surprised would be an understatement. So, she pushes it a little further.
"I know we both hate to admit it, but Denise had some excellent points," she says softly as she slowly removes her hands from his face.
The desperate moment is over and she's starting to let herself sink into the nearness of him. She can't do that. Not yet, at least. He seems to read that from her movements and releases her waist while taking one step backward.
He nods with a serious expression. "I'll think about it."
"What do we do about the girls?" She asks as she tries to change the subject.
"What can we do? We can't tell them the truth," he says thoughtfully. "We just say we look a little different and answer any questions they have as honestly as we can."
That sounds perfectly logical. So logical that it's almost guaranteed not to work. But he's right. There's not much else that they can do.
"So, what, we play house?" Lucy asks him with a furrowed brow. "Can we maintain that? I mean they're going to notice that you and I aren't as...close as the parents they knew."
"Do you want to tell them their parents aren't together anymore?" Wyatt asks her in a strained voice. "I sure as hell don't."
She shakes her head and then rubs her temples. She feels her headache from earlier returning but this time it has nothing to do with time travel. "No, I don't. But...does that mean we spend the rest of our lives pretending?"
"I don't know, Lucy," he answers honestly. "I guess we just...we take it as it comes."
She grins slightly at that. "One problem at a time?"
He chuckles and nods. "Breaking out the old team motto. I see what you're doing, Preston."
She holds his gaze and grins at him for a lingering moment. This truce they've been forced into is nice. Constantly sniping back and forth with him has been exhausting and she's glad to be able actually talk to him again.
"So, I guess we just...see how the girls react in the morning," she says as she lifts a shoulder with feigned carelessness. "No big deal. Like nothing's really changed except our appearance."
"I think that's probably best," Wyatt agrees.
"Then I guess there's nothing left to do but sleep," Lucy says as she finally begins to feel the heaviness in her eyelids.
"And shower," Wyatt says eagerly. "I'm still covered in all that dust from HQ."
"You mean our cave that we generously named HQ?" Lucy asks with a scoff.
"That's the one," He replies with a chuckle.
"Well, there was only one bathroom in the hall," She tells him as she tries to recall the layout of the second floor. "So I'm assuming our bedroom has a master bath. There is no way I'd move into a house with one bathroom after living in the Bunker."
"No, definitely not," he agrees as he gives her a teasing grin.
"So, you go first," she tells him. "I can wait."
What she means is that once he finishes in the master bath she can lock the bedroom door and take her time. She won't have to worry about leaving any hot water for him if he goes first.
"Uh huh," Wyatt says before he pins her down with a knowing expression. "It has nothing to do with you wanting to use all the hot water, right?"
"No," she calls after him as he walks toward the stairs.
"Liar," he throws back over his shoulder. He stops on the bottom step and turns to face her again with just a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Good night, Lucy."
"Good night, Wyatt," she responds.
He finds her eyes intently, making an implicit promise, as he speaks again. "I'll see you in the morning."
"You'd better," she says with an emphatic nod.
An apologetic look of genuine understanding passes between them and she knows he'll keep his promise. He'll be there for her, and the girls, in the morning.