Chinatown, 1888

"Never thought I'd be back here." Wyatt muttered to himself, feeling eerily out of place as he treaded down the very same block that they'd traversed on their first trip to Chinatown. Everything predictably looked exactly the same as the first time around, with the chickens and goats wandering around their carts, the sound of people speaking in quick, clipped Chinese, the low hanging laundry lines drifting in the wind, and the hordes of people drifting to and fro. But it was all somehow more overwhelming than he remembered, when they were helplessly lost searching for the very woman who was now striding purposefully alongside him. Jiya looked completely in her element, and Wyatt figured that was appropriate given that she had lived here all by herself, prepared to be lost in time forever.

"You good?" He asked under his breath, peering at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked tense, like she knew what she was doing but she wasn't sure if it would matter, teetering on the precipice of hope. A familiar stirring of guilt twisted his gut as he looked at this older, steely version of the Jiya who had three years of her life stolen from her. Stolen by non-other than his wife, who he knew was lurking around here somewhere.

"I'm fine." She said shortly. She seemed to consider before adding, "I'll be fine once I get him back."

Nodding, Wyatt took that truth for what it was and steered them toward the side of the busy street as an oncoming carriage rolled by. It was more disorienting than he had anticipated, being back here, and it wasn't just because it was the place where he watched his best friend die. Something about it seemed surreal, like he didn't feel totally grounded, and he figured it had something to do with the fact that his future self was standing on the other side of Jiya while his past self was off searching for the photo studio a few blocks away. He was simply in too many places at once, and his consciousness felt inexplicably stretched.By the looks of it, his bearded copy was struggling a bit too.

"We've gotta be quick." His future-self grunted. "I think I can feel myself starting to unwind."

"Yeah, whatever that means." Wyatt agreed, shaking his head as if to clear away an invisible fog.

Future-Wyatt took a deep breath to steady himself before asking, "What time is it Jiya?"

She quickly flicked out her wrist, revealing what appeared to be a digital Apple watch. Wyatt couldn't help but smirk. After being trapped in the past, it seemed like Jiya wasn't going to risk taking modern technology for granted anymore.

"It's 2:06." She said. "Around what time did you guys reach the photo studio?"

"Sometime close to 2:30." Future-Wyatt replied. Wyatt looked at himself with raised eyebrows, surprised that he remembered what had happened down to the minutes, even after all these years.

His future-self stared back, rigid and determined. "I've been waiting for this a long time. You'd better believe I did my research, and I'm not leaving anything to chance."

"No complaints from me." Wyatt conceded. "Let's get moving."

The odd trio steadily made their way toward the photo studio as quickly as they could. The pair of him must have made quite the sight, Wyatt thought. Although they were hardly wearing matching suits, they'd still gotten some pretty strange looks while passing through the commons. They were pretty distinct looking 'twins' in the throng of a Chinatown marketplace, and he could only hope that no lingering Rittenhouse goons had spotted them.

Within minutes they found themselves across the street from the place where everything had gone wrong. Or would go wrong? The original team still hadn't shown up just yet, so the three tucked themselves into the adjacent alley to sit tight and wait to see double.

All of a sudden, the same pain that Future-Lucy had exhibited in the bunker hit them like a merciless punch in the gut. Both Wyatt's were stumbling, struggling to keep their balance as their heads pounded, like they were being torn apart from the inside out. It was an agony unlike anything they'd ever experienced, as the laws of physics and reality punished them for defying logic and existing at the same time.

"Are you guys okay?" Jiya exclaimed, eyes wide with worry.

"Need space." Future-Wyatt gasped as he struggled to put some distance between himself and the doppelganger, staggering toward the opposite side of the alleyway and sighing in relief as he felt some of the pressure in his head start to dissipate.

"We've gotta be quick about this." Wyatt panted, recovering from what felt the worst migraine of his life. "I don't know how many more of those I can take."

"Ditto." His Future-self agreed. Jiya watched both of them anxiously, feeling torn between watching for any sign of Rufus and making sure that her two soldiers didn't drop dead of a time travel induced aneurism. She helped Wyatt back to his feet, making sure he was steady enough to stand on his own before dutifully turning her attention back to the marketplace. Eventually Future-Wyatt cautiously brought himself back into the fold, lingering a few paces behind his past self as they all continued to wait.

But sooner than he would have expected, the wait was over, and Wyatt was assaulted with the same feeling of disassociation the first time he'd seen a copy of himself.

There they were, the four of them. A brooding Wyatt, a tense Lucy, a vigilant Flynn, and an intact Rufus. Alive and breathing. Wyatt heard Jiya's breath hitch in her throat at the sight of him and instinctively reached out to take her hand, both as a sign of comfort and to make sure she didn't charge out into the street after him. Much to his pleasant surprise, she didn't snatch her hand away like he half expected, and only grabbed onto him that much tighter, like if she didn't latch onto something she could very well float away.

"He's here." Jiya choked back tears, almost as if she had to say it out loud to really believe it. Wyatt thought his hand might start to go numb.

"Now all we have to do is wait for the party to start." Future-Wyatt stated, folding his arms and leaning against the alley wall. He kept flexing his hand awkwardly, and Wyatt realized he also must be able to feel Jiya's bone crushing grip.

"Jesus Jiya, I think you're going to squeeze our hand until we can't feel it anymore." Future-Wyatt grumbled.

"Oh, sorry." She apologized, immediately dropping Wyatt's hand. "I just, I don't, I can't believe we get this chance."

"You deserve it." Future-Wyatt told her sincerely, his voice softening as he looked at her, possibly seeing memories of the Jiya he'd come to know after Rufus' death, a person who may not even come to exist if they succeeded.

Wyatt couldn't help but feel his eyes stinging with emotion as the team approached the photo studio, like his body was having a visceral reaction to their proximity, which given the circumstances was entirely possible. The sight of his best friend made his heart thump with equal parts love, regret, and bitter rage. He could almost literally feel a violent impulse tingling in the tips of his fingers, all saved up for a certain red headed monster.

"You sure I can't just go in there and pop a cap in Emma's head right now?" Wyatt ground out, unconsciously reaching for his glock beneath his coat.

"Unfortunately, no." Future-Wyatt sighed, sounding like he was fighting the same urges himself. "We aren't supposed to change the timeline any more than we have to."

"Seriously?" Wyatt rounded on him. "Wouldn't that be a change for the better?"

"There's no way to be sure." Jiya cut in, sounding like she was at war with herself. "If we kill Emma now, who's to say that Carol and Nicholas won't survive and end up killing one of us instead? We could come back to an entirely different reality. One where maybe Rufus didn't die, but Lucy was taken back to Rittenhouse by her mother. We all know how obsessed Carol was with indoctrinating her."

And just like that, Wyatt had nothing to say. Why did it always have to be a trade off? Like the universe insisted on some bull shit cosmic balance that always left something or someone to the wolves?

"We don't change any more than we have to. That's the deal." Future-Wyatt confirmed, his eyes glued to the alternate team.

The unbearded Wyatt watched intently as the foursome made their way up the steps of the photo studio, following Lucy's worried face as she ushered them inside and the starkness of her pinstriped dress hugging her slight frame, practically a beacon in the crowd. His heart twisted painfully with the knowledge of what she was about to go through, and the fact that there was nothing he could do to stop it. He had never felt more powerless in his whole life.

It seemed like no time at all when they heard the gun shots. Three loud rounds that signaled the end of Carol Preston and Nicholas Keynes, the last of Lucy's living family. Not that it was much of a family to speak of.

Suddenly Emma and Jessica raced down the front steps of the building, and even though he knew it was going to happen, nothing could prepare Wyatt for the sight of his wife dressed in 19thcentury clothes, holding a gun, and standing opposite to Emma Whitmore.

She looked like herself, but not herself. And this time it was Jiya who had to reach out and steady Wyatt, who looked like he was an inch away from chasing after Jessica himself. His muscles strained with visible effort to hold himself back, but he managed to keep himself in place as she rushed off into the crowd.

Not two minutes later the past Flynn and Wyatt emerged and prepared to separate, and Wyatt couldn't help but shake his head at his own foolishness as his past-self insisted on being the one to go after the rogue Jessica.

"You never told me," Wyatt murmured, turning to himself. "if Jessica was telling the truth about the baby."

His future-self looked at him, really looked at him, completely beaten down, battle hardened, and weary. In that gaze Wyatt could have sworn he saw all his past mistakes, and maybe even his future ones, as well as all of the consequences that would come along with them. He knew that an ocean of difference stretched between him and his future-self, and it went far beyond the simple scruff and stray gray hairs. This was a man who had lost everything, and abruptly he realized this is how Lucy must have felt when she was rescued from Rittenhouse, only to have the rug pulled out from under her again, to use her own words.

As he peered into his own eyes, a clear message was translated: do better than I did.Future-Wyatt seemed to be on the brink of disclosing something monumental, weighing how much he should or should not say, before he made a face that looked distinctly like 'fuck it' and opened his mouth.

"Jessica was telling the truth, about everything." He revealed while smothering his own tears, and Wyatt very nearly forgot how to breathe. "What she did was wrong, to you, to Jiya, to everyone, but she'd been brainwashed by Rittenhouse her whole life. She told me that she never wanted to hurt us, and that she would never be able to if she tried."

Jiya, who looked somewhat unconvinced, was polite enough to turn away and give them some privacy. Brainwashing or not, Jessica Logan had still kidnapped her, still stole three years of her young life, and Jiya's sympathy only stretched so far.

"You've seen her since Chinatown? You spoke to her?" Wyatt sputtered.

Future-Wyatt hung his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Just once. When she died in my arms after Emma shot her for defecting."

Wyatt blanched, thinking he must have heard wrong. "She, she betrayed Emma? For us?"

Future-Wyatt's eyes were cold, bleak as a winter gale. "For us, and for our unborn child. She was six months pregnant at the time."

Wyatt felt numb, much the same way he had when news of Jessica's murder had hit him the first time around, but that felt like nothing compared to this. That reaction had been a visceral, agonizing blow to the heart suffused with his own justified grief and guilt for letting anything happening to her. This was different. This was a Jessica who had given up her loyalty to Rittenhouse and diedfor it, bringing their unborn child along with her. He was invariably caught between seeing her as an enemy and someone he trusted implicitly, a threat and a safe haven, a soldier and a mother. The phase 'conflicting emotions' was a grievous understatement.

"Hey." The gravelly sound of his own voice snapped him back to attention. "I know it's an impossible situation. It always has been, but you have to chooseher, just like you chose her when you got that text, and just like you've been trying to since she came back into our lives. It's the only way to protect her and the kid. That way, maybe you don't have to lose her a second time, like I did."

Though her name went unspoken, Wyatt knew that his future self was clearly telling him to let Lucy go. To choose Jessica like he couldn't choose Lucy and commit to the woman he decided to be with. He knew that this Jessica was different, that she was not a carbon copy of the woman he married in his original timeline. He knew that he had lived six miserable years without her which had left him a different man as well. Yet, he was also convinced that whether in this reality or another, Wyatt Logan knew Jessica down to her core. He still looked into her eyes and saw the woman he loved, Rittenhouse or not. And no matter what they had done for her family or how they had changed her, he still saw that some love reflected in her eyes. The lightning bolt continued to flash between them.

"I hate to interrupt this self-reflective pep talk." Jiya interjected awkwardly. "But Rufus just left with Fei."

Three pairs of eyes promptly glanced back in the direction of photo studio, watching as the little Chinese girl lead Rufus down the street and toward the saloon. That was their cue to get going.

"Okay, I'll go with Jiya to get Rufus. He's more likely to believe this whole thing if he sees a future version of you wandering around." Future-Wyatt decided, gathering his bearings. "Which means you'll have to deliver the message and convince the team to leave."

At the risk of soliciting more necessary but difficult to swallow advice from his future-self, Wyatt asked, "Who should I try and talk to?"

His future-self considered a moment before answering, "Well, you can't come into contact with your past self. We don't want to risk physically crossing your own timeline that many times. So, that leaves Flynn or Lucy, your choice."

Wyatt swallowed thickly, wishing that his future-self would just make this easier on him and choose for him, but he knew it wasn't that simple. He felt like he was being presented with a very significant crossroads, and that the choice he made would define him going forward one way or another. He just managed a small nod, deciding to cross that bridge when he came to it, procrastination be damned.

Future-Wyatt didn't look entirely satisfied with that half answer but also didn't really have time to flesh it out any further. He jerked his head at Jiya, who quickly fell in step behind him, eager not to waste any time.

"Okay, we're going. We'll meet you back at the lifeboat at seven sharp, hopefully with Rufus in tow." He said, trying to sound confident. He brushed off his clothes and gave himself a last once over before extending his hand to Jiya, who took it cordially. She looked like she was preparing for battle herself, and he supposed in a way they were.

"Good luck." Wyatt told them as they began to back out of the alley.

"Same to you." Jiya replied, mustering a small smile of encouragement before trailing after future-Wyatt down the street in pursuit of Rufus, her purple dress fanning out around her like a flower among the dull, colorless Chinatown backdrop. Within moments they had disappeared into the crowd and were out of sight.

The minutes ticked by, time passing relentlessly on as he grappled with the decision which was waiting to be made.

That's when he heard the sobs.

They were quiet at first, almost too faint to discern among the general hubbub and commotion of the marketplace, but then they got louder. As the pitch became ever clearer, there was no way to deny what the sound was, and who it was coming from.

About fifty feet across the street, sitting alone with two dead bodies littering the floor, Lucy Preston was crying.

The idea of it alone nearly drove a knife through his heart, and he could never recall a time where the sound of another person's tears threatened to undo him so completely. He could literally hear her heartache, everything that she had endured from her mother, from Rittenhouse, from him. She was practically hemorrhaging pain, and he realized that it was only because she thought that no one was there to hear. She always held herself together so tightly in front of everyone else, never let herself crumble unless she was alone. But of course she did, he realized, because the last time she let herself fall apart in front of him he had promised to pick up the pieces. And then he had left her.

A moment passed, and he made his choice.

He marched out of the alley, turned right and began to make his way down the street, leaving the photo studio behind.

Wyatt wanted nothing more than to burst through that door and take away all her misery. He would give the world to do that for her, but he had to accept that he couldn't be that person for her anymore. How could he be when he knew that in this moment his past self was off confronting Jessica and begging her to stay by his side? Once again, he hadn't been thinking about Lucy, or the fact that her mother had just been murdered right in front of her. To put it simply, Jessica had been top of the priority list yet again, and if that wasn't a sign he didn't know what was.

I love you, Lucy. He had told her that because it was true. He did love her and he felt like she should know, but it wasn't fair to her all the same. Somewhere along the way of their crazy time travelling adventures compassion and friendship had grown into something more, and he would probably never stop loving her no matter how hard he tried. But his heart, despite whatever feelings had developed, still undeniably belonged to someone else as he had demonstrated time and time again. He would never be able to give his whole self to her, and now he knew why.

So, there was nothing left to do but find the one person who was already hers, whether she knew it or not.

It didn't take Wyatt long to find him. Garcia Flynn's tall, burgundy clad form was stalking conspicuously through the throngs of passerby, keeping a sharp eye out for any trace of Emma. But instead his furious eyes landed on Wyatt, and he wasted no time in carving a path toward him. Wyatt felt like he was about to be charged by an angry bull, and he supposed that this time he probably deserved it.

"Well, by the looks of it I'm assuming your wife got away." Flynn snarled angrily, daring Wyatt to fight back as he loomed over him. Something about Flynn's sass never failed to infuriate him, especially since their little altercation in the silo that had left Lucy with a bruised jaw. He winced at the memory of his knuckles connecting with her skin, but he fought to remain calm as the two of them peeled off to the side of the dusty road. In the distance the sun was beginning to set, the crowds were starting to disperse with the closing of the day, and Wyatt knew he didn't have much time.

"Look, I'm not who you think I am." Wyatt began, feeling like he was already botching this. "I'm Wyatt, but I'm not your Wyatt. I'm from the future."

Flynn eyed him skeptically, as if to say this was really not the best occasion for time travel related jokes. "You, who look exactly the same as I saw you ten minutes ago, are from the future? Do you think I'm stupid?"

Wyatt huffed, suppressing the urge to offer an impertinent answer to that question before stiffly reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a carefully folded note. Before leaving the bunker he had asked both Flynn and Lucy to write a note to their past selves, just as back up evidence if either of them proved unwilling to cooperate. He should have known that proof would be more than necessary in Flynn's case, especially if the story was coming from him.

"Is this just a cover to give Jessica more time to get away?" Flynn snarked. "Because if so, it's pretty transparent."

Wyatt unfolded the letter, noticing it was written in what must be Flynn's native language, before roughly shoving it into his hands. "Here, dickhead, just read this. Maybe you can convince yourself."

Flynn eyed the note suspiciously, turning it over in his large fingers before recognizing the familiar scrawl of his own handwriting. Straightening out the creased paper, Flynn's eyes roved hungrily over the page, scanning line for line of whatever dearly held secrets the future Flynn had written in order to persuade himself that Wyatt was telling the truth. For once, Wyatt wondered how it felt for Flynn to be on the other side of this conversation, with his own longhand refusing to be ignored. It was an odd sense of reverse déja vu, what with his relationship with Lucy's journal, a mystery which still continued to puzzle Wyatt with questions he couldn't bring himself to ask.

Slowly, he watched as Flynn's face started to change. His eyes narrowed as they flicked over the same sentences over and over again, willing them to show him something different but coming up with nothing. Finally, he raised his gaze to Wyatt's, looking less openly hostile but still fairly guarded.

"You got this from me?" Flynn asked dubiously. "Because apparently Emma murders Rufus here?"

"I have to convince you guys to leave without him." Wyatt affirmed. "Jiya, my Jiya, is on her way to grab him right now, before anything happens to him."

"And out of everyone here you picked me to have this conversation with?" Flynn seemed genuinely curious. "Why?"

Wyatt shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, willing himself not to break contact with Flynn's piercing gaze. He shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling less like a soldier and more like an inarticulate teenager. But he'd be damned if he stammered like an idiot in front of Flynn, gathering himself to day what he'd come to say. Because as assholic, smug, and cocky as Flynn could be, Wyatt knew that to Lucy he was someone else entirely.

"Look, as we speak Lucy is alone crying over her dead mother." Wyatt's voice was strained.

Flynn's face darkened, and Wyatt saw an undecipherable stream of emotions splay over his face, his mouth settling into a deep frown as he quietly asked, "Shouldn't you be comforting her then?"

Taken aback, Wyatt could only blink in shock as all of Flynn's snark and smarm had been swept away without a trace. All that stood before him were worry lines, the deepest concern, and if he didn't know any better, love. Yet, he was so willing to surrender her to Wyatt, offering to back down and walk away before that love could be fully realized. Almost as if he didn't believe he deserved the chance to try. It was enough to make even Wyatt feel a stirring of pity for this broken, damaged man.

"I'm not the one she needs." Wyatt said gruffly, and it took every ounce of his strength to admit it out loud. "I can't be what she needs, and I think you know that."

Flynn's face was expressionless, for once without a trace of judgment or disdain as he stared at Wyatt implacably. He neither acknowledged nor argued the other man's point, for which Wyatt found himself immensely grateful. He wasn't any more eager to hash out his love life than Flynn was, but this was something that needed to be said.

"She has to know that she isn't alone. And I don't think she needs a future version of me to burst in while she's grieving."

To that point, Flynn looked like he would be inclined to agree, but still refused to say a word. He looked half caught between disbelief that he was having this conversation with Wyatt of all people and a desire to accept he could possibly be the one Lucy wanted. The one that anyone wanted, for the first time in so long.

Wyatt couldn't stand the silence any longer. "And I know you need her just as much as she needs you."

Flynn's eyes flashed like a dog that had been hit too many times, fighting the urge to bite back.

"Don't act like you know me, Logan." Flynn growled, closing himself off as fast as he opened up.

"I don't have to know you, I just have to have eyes." Wyatt scoffed. "Just go, before the past me shows up to interrupt."

"Sounds like something you would do." Flynn muttered irritably.

That fact, of all things, seemed to catch Flynn's attention and steer him into motion. As if he was gearing up to say something to Lucy which couldn't afford to be disrupted, and Wyatt belatedly wondered what exactly he'd walked in on when he'd originally returned to find Flynn kneeling in front of Lucy with his eyes wide, soft, and vulnerable. It may have been the most human Wyatt had ever seen him, but he could hardly say he was surprised. Lucy always brought out the best in people, it's just who she was.

"Anymore words of wisdom before I cut out of here, cowboy?" Flynn quipped, itching to get going. Wyatt rolled his eyes at the nickname, knowing Flynn only used it to get a rise out of him. Even in a situation like this.

"Just make sure you guys grab Jiya and get out of here as fast as you can. Show her the note if you have to. Rufus' life depends on it, and so do all of ours." Wyatt instructed somberly, although Flynn looked like he'd rather die than share whatever was written on that scrap of paper. He could only hope that Jiya's past self would listen, although trusting Flynn was still something most of the team was getting accustomed to, so he'd just have to take his chances.

"I'll do my best." Flynn promised, also sounding doubtful that anyone would believe his story but looking determined all the same. With that he threw Wyatt a mock salute before whirling and charging down the street, mowing through the thinning crowd like the true maniac that he was.

Watching Flynn make his way back to Lucy, Wyatt suddenly felt gratified that at least he could do this small favor to her. That after all he had put her through, intentionally or not, he could make up for it by encouraging the most impossible man in the world express his feelings. Because there was no longer a doubt about it in his mind that Garcia Flynn was in love with Lucy Preston.

The thought of it used to make him excessively uncomfortable, incredulous, and inexplicably angry, even when he knew he had no right to be. Now, surprisingly, it just made him hopeful. Second chances like the one he'd been granted with Jessica were, if not impossible, far and few between. He hardly felt like he deserved it, especially after how spectacularly disastrous everything had turned out, but he still wanted those kinds of possibilities for his teammates, even Flynn. He couldn't say he loved the guy, or hardly even liked him. But tolerated? Yes, he could do that. And for Lucy he'd do just about anything.

With his mission accomplished (or so he hoped), Wyatt spun on his heel and headed toward the lifeboat, feeling lighter than when he'd left.

In retrospect, Jiya thought, it was a wonder that Rufus had survived as long as he had.

It was almost too easy to sneak up on him, with her heart racing and blood pounding in her ears as the anticipation mounted with every moment. She and Future-Wyatt had scouted ahead of her oblivious boyfriend and skirted around the block, positioning themselves in one of the backstreets directly off the main road.

Watching him tread so carelessly, so unaware of his surroundings, made her want to shout at him until her throat was raw. She was so angry she thought she was going to pop a vein, because he just wasn't paying attention. After all her warnings and premonitions, he still couldn't bring himself to properly watch his back.

Who knew loving someone could be so infuriating? She wondered.

She was abruptly torn away from her inner musings when she heard Future-Wyatt grunt loudly behind her, squinting his eyes as he ground his teeth together and hissed in pain.

"Are you all right?" She asked, concerned as one of his hands fisted in his air. The headaches seemed to be getting worse.

"I'm fine." He mumbled unconvincingly, starting to recover as he leaned against the wall for support and took deep breaths. "Keep a lookout for him."

Jiya didn't need to be told twice. She let Wyatt recuperate as she carefully peaked her head out into the light and scanned the street for Rufus. He was closer now, just about to walk by their opening.

"Get ready." Future-Wyatt told her from behind, no longer sounding belabored and winded. He needn't have worried. If there was anything in her life Jiya was going to get right, it was this.

Just as she expected, Rufus' didn't even notice them when he passed by the mouth of the lane and was predictably bewildered when her hand shot out and snatched his wrist, drawing him into the shadows with a quick yank.

"Hey! What are you-" The protest died on his lips the moment he saw who was clutching his wrist. His eyes widened in surprise, and the beautiful smile that split across his face was almost enough to make Jiya forget how furious she was with him.

Almost.

Before she knew what she was doing she drew him in for a breathtaking kiss that felt more like a brand than a brushing of the lips. Like she was claiming him as irrevocably hers, and letting the universe know that he was off limits as any further time travelling collateral damage. Swept up in the sheer passion and possessiveness of their embrace, whatever questions Rufus may have had were pleasantly forgotten.

The kisses turned hungrier and more frenzied, as if Jiya was worried she might slip away if she let go for even a moment. Even Rufus seemed caught off guard by Jiya's feverish need to touch him, although he didn't offer any complaints. When hands started roaming none too innocently Future-Wyatt politely cleared his throat, and the two finally broke apart.

He looked so unbelievably real, and it was like she was seeing him for the first time. She greedily drank in the sight of him from head to toe, re-memorizing everything that made him intrinsically Rufus. From the warmness of his brown eyes to the fullness of his lips which were still bruised from her kisses; the way he always wore his cap slightly to the left of his face, or the familiar quirk of his smile, which could normally make her agree to just about anything.

Seeing him stand there before her, Jiya couldn't help but feel like she was walking through a dream that she was soon to wake up from. Or wandering through one of her visions where she was almost able to find a scenario in which Rufus survived, only to have him brutally murdered when she was least expecting it. No matter what she did it always turned out the same way, and it always hurt even when she knew it was coming. All because he didn't listen. None of them listened. So, she had to watch her nightmares play out in real time like a broken record that scratched too many times, repeating the same song over and over before it inevitably shattered.

In the blink of an eye her rage had resurfaced, and Jiya rounded on him. "What were you thinking?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Rufus faltered, confused and still dazed from kissing as he struggled to keep up with the change in conversation. "I came to bring you home."

"I didn't ask you to come. I actually left specific instructions against it." Jiya argued vehemently, vacillating between anger and grief as she choked back tears. Now it was Rufus' turn to lose his temper.

"What was I supposed to do? Leave you to die in the 1880's?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes! You were supposed to listen to me!" She cried, but even saying it out loud sounded ridiculous to her now. She knew he never could have lived with himself without trying to find her.

"Are you even hearing yourself? I had to save you, there was never any other option." He said desperately.

"Well who's going to save you while your busy saving me?" She fired back, finally letting the tears fall.

"Saving me? You mean-"

"She means that this jump is the one where you don't make it back." Future-Wyatt interjected. Rufus seemed to notice him for the first time, along with the noticeable scruff that far surpassed a casual five o'clock shadow.

Rufus eyed him suspiciously. "I'm pretty sure you didn't have a beard when we left the bunker a few hours ago, so you wanna tell me what's going on?"

Jiya took a deep breath, unsure of where to begin. "Rufus, this is going to sound crazy."

"We time travel for a living. Does it get much crazier than that?' He huffed, eyes glued to Future-Wyatt with a look of simultaneous familiarity and distrust.

"You'd be surprised." Future-Wyatt sighed.

"By what exactly?"

Jiya just decided to come out and say it. "Rufus, my visions were true. It was all true. And this was the mission, where you, where you-"

"Where I died." He guessed, a grim understanding alight in his eyes. "But how would you know that unless…"

"We were from the future." Jiya finished.

His eyes bounced back and forth between Jiya and the slightly older version of Wyatt, noticing the blood on Jiya's dress and the deep frown lines in the grooves of Wyatt's face. He recognized that there was something fundamentally different about both of them, just in their defeated gazes and tired postures alone, and the truth seemed to dawn on him.

"You're really from the future? How is this possible?" Rufus stammered, sounding like he only half believed it. Jiya was still having a hard time wrapping her head around it herself.

"Well, he's from five years in the future." Jiya explained, inclining her head toward the bearded Wyatt. "I just travelled back from a few hours from now."

Rufus' jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he took a step toward Future-Wyatt, who looked the most anxious Jiya had ever seen him. "You travelled back into your own timeline to save me?" Rufus asked, awestruck. He had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, chiefly wondering how on Earth this was possible just technically speaking, but of all of them this one felt like the most significant.

The dispassionate, reticent soldier was nearly brought to his knees by the sound of his best friend's voice, and the fact that Rufus would expect anything less than his best effort.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do to bring you back, buddy." Future-Wyatt assured him, trying to maintain his composure. "After everything, I wasn't going to stop until I made it up to you. I owed you that much."

Rufus knew that Wyatt was referring to the conversation they'd had just that morning after Jiya was kidnapped, when he could hardly bring himself to look in Wyatt's general direction without scowling. When Rufus told Wyatt that if anything happened to Jiya, he'd never forgive him, and he'd meant it. It had never even crossed his mind that he might not be the one making a return trip from this jump, and he could see how much his death had destroyed his best friend, and Jiya too. It was amazing how being so incredibly loved could lead to so much misery.

Rufus hardly had to think twice before saying, "Consider yourself forgiven."

He didn't know if he'd ever seen Wyatt so relieved, like five years of sorrow and guilt just came tumbling off his shoulders from a few simple words. Knowing that it had probably been a long time since he'd received one, Rufus pulled him in for a much-needed hug, clapping him on the back fondly as if to solidify his absolution. By the way Future-Wyatt desperately clutched him back, Rufus could tell it was a gesture he'd gone too long without.

"Just like that?" Future-Wyatt breathed, letting go and daring to let a small smile curl his lip.

Rufus shrugged. "Well, I'd say that bending the laws of space time to save my life absolves you from how much of an idiot you were being before."

"I guess I deserve that." Wyatt chuckled, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. It felt good to be like this with Rufus again. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to joke around with him like giddy teenagers, or to joke at all for that matter.

"Hey, I was technically the one who defied the laws of physics and logic to make this happen." Jiya pointed out, hands on her hips indignantly. "Well, my future self anyway."

"Of course you were." Rufus conceded, taking her hand in his and drawing it to his mouth to lightly kiss her knuckles. "Nobody else could have done it".

The smile died on Jiya's lips as she hesitantly drew him closer, like she was afraid he'd shatter under her touch.

"I had to do it Rufus. You didn't give me any other choice." Jiya's tone turned serious. Now devoid of anger and rage, the solemnness of her tired voice willed him to understand what his loss had truly meant to her. How the thought and then the reality of losing him had undone her so completely and destroyed her in a way she hadn't thought possible.

"I'm so sorry, Jiya. I never wanted to put you through that." He said sincerely, gulping as he fearfully acknowledged his own death. He meant it too, even if he couldn't say he'd take back his choice. He'd save her at the expense of his own life over and over but lamented the obvious toll it had taken on her. "I didn't feel like I had a choice either. A life without you in it wasn't a life I wanted to live."

"Yes, I learned how that feels firsthand." She confessed, her voice cracking slightly. "But maybe instead of sacrificing ourselves we can get back to that life we're always talking about, together."

Unable to be physically parted from her any longer, he cupped her face and brought his mouth down to hers in the most delicate kiss she'd ever known. Not wasting a single moment as his lips sought to soothe away all of her pain, remind her that he was here in her arms, and would stay there as long as she wanted him. Jiya was dizzy with the truth of what it meant, overwhelmed by his presence in the best way as she lost herself in the feel of him. The faint smell of his aftershave, the soft taste of his lips, and the reassurance of his living warmth surrounding her. Eventually they had to break apart to come up for air, and to spare Future-Wyatt any further embarrassment, who was patiently waiting for them on the sidelines.

"Together." Rufus agreed, smoothing a stray strand of hair behind her ear fondly. She catalogued every touch, every expression, every gesture as something she would count herself lucky for. Lucky that she no longer had to think of this day with him as her last.

"Are you ready to go home?" Jiya asked softly, tracing her thumb over the outline of his lips in adoration. The words almost sounded too good to be true, but this was a happy ending she wasn't going to question.

Rufus' slowly nodded before coming back to himself for a minute. "What about everybody else? Are we just going to leave them here?"

"Wyatt's off taking care of that, making sure they find me and leave before Emma can get the drop on them." Jiya explained, watching as Rufus' face sagged in surprise.

"Wait, there are more of you here? There's another Wyatt on this trip?" Rufus blustered.

Future-Wyatt and Jiya exchanged a knowing glance.

"We've got a lot to tell you."