A/N: Up In Smoke is now going to be a four part series it seems like. There's a lot more that I wanted to write of Lucy's POV so I'll be writing more following this one. Then I also will be writing Lucy and Wyatt's reunion. So at least four parts will be involved here, pals. Hopefully you like them!

Happy reading!

angellwings

PS - this starts out set during 2x06. After Lucy tells Wyatt to go find Jessica but before Lucy goes to Flynn's room to talk.

Guess you forgot what you told me,

because you left my heart on the floor.

Baby, your ghost still haunts me,

but I don't want to sleep with him no more.

Every little thing,

I remember every little thing.

The high, the hurt, the shine,

the stain of every little thing.

-"Every Little Thing" by Carly Pearce

If only you could wash away memories as easily as dirt and grime. How many times had she wished that the lukewarm spray of the shower could rinse off the many memories of tender blue eyes with intent focus and the corresponding words that used to make her heart flutter? She couldn't, but god if she could she would scrub so hard and fast that every inch of her would be raw.

"See ya later, Babydoll."

"I cannot lose you again!"

"Maybe we do need to stop trying to fix the past and start looking at the present."

"Maybe I do need to be open to possibilities."

"I just know I'm not ready to say goodbye yet."

"You haven't lost me."

"Nothing ahead but the open road."

"You saved my life, you know."

"I sorta stopped caring. Not anymore."

"It was nice to see you happy."

Now, every remembered flick of those blue eyes to hers and every word, that used to comfort her, hurt. They taunted her with things that almost were, could have been, would never be. They lived in her heart and threatened to shatter it from the inside out. After a lifetime of never falling love, the one time she did left her falling in a never ending cavern. She couldn't see the bottom. She couldn't stop falling. She had no one to catch her either. Not anymore.

And it wasn't just the love of her life breaking her heart, but her mother too. Two people she loved with everything she had, chose someone else over her. Prioritized their past over her future. She supposed that was their right, but goddammit if it didn't make her want to collapse to the ground and never stand again.

But she couldn't and wouldn't crumble. Amy was counting on her, even if she currently didn't exist. No one remembered Amy, but her. No one cared to save Amy, but her. She had to regroup, gather the splintered pieces of her heart, and fight on. Even if she was left with nothing in the meantime.

Regrouping and sharing space with one source of heartbreak was a Herculean task. It was made even more impossible by the sight of that one time confidant and lover with the person he loved with everything he had. A person who was not her. A person who was down to Earth, genuinely funny, intelligent, beautiful, and who had loved him first. Who knew details she had yet to uncover. A person who would always be first in his heart.

The words that made up her rapid downfall mingled with the comforting ones until a jumble of them bounced around in her skull. She couldn't tell one from the other but each sentence stabbed just as deeply as the next. Running across her mind at unpredictable times. Again, haunting her at every moment.

"I'll be right back."

"Jessica's alive."

"I step off the Lifeboat and I get a text from my dead wife."

"She's real, Lucy. Her hair is a little different, it's shorter, but her eyes are the same. Last time I saw those eyes, she was dead."

"Lucy, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, but you and me…"

"I'm sorry."

"Look, I'm sorry, I know this is really weird. But I didn't have a choice."

"Jessica's giving me a second chance, and she said it was cause of you."

"I have no regrets."

She told him she didn't either. Was that true? Honestly, she didn't know anymore. But it was what he wanted to hear. It would get her out of that hallway and into her room where she could be alone. Where he wouldn't be looking at her with those damn expressive eyes. She expected that to be the end of it. When she said she'd see him around the bunker, she meant in passing or on missions. But he didn't seem to understand that. He kept finding his way into her space. He kept trying to be her shoulder to lean on. Like nothing had changed.

The ring on his finger very much indicated otherwise.

As did the additional person in the bunker.

Lucy tried to make Jessica feel welcome, especially since she'd convinced her to stay. Which meant not leaving the room when she entered, even though the urge was strong. Not because she didn't like Jessica but because Jessica was a painful reminder of what Lucy would never have. But she stuck it out. Every time. She learned more little things about Wyatt overhearing Jessica share a story with Rufus or Jiya than she had the entire time she'd known the soldier. Things he never offered up to her. Why would he? He was always waiting on Jessica to come back, wasn't he? Jessica already knew it all.

Lucy dipped her head under the shower spray one last time. She couldn't stay here forever, even though it was really her only refuge from the rest of the bunker.

Rufus barely talked to her anymore, barely looked at her, unless they were on a mission. She supposed it was awkward having to deal with two of your friends being ex-lovers or a one night stand or whatever the hell she and Wyatt were. But she could really use her friend. She also knew he had a lot going on with Jiya, and Mason too for that matter, so she cut him some slack. They all had problems to deal with. She couldn't expect people to hold her hand.

Jiya had been wonderful. But Jiya was also having issues with Rufus and her visions at alternative intervals so Lucy didn't want to put her troubles off on her. Agent Christopher was her boss, though one she greatly respected, and talking to her about Wyatt felt wrong. Not to mention Jiya and Agent Christopher now never knew Wyatt was ever available. She knew Jiya said she hadn't judged her for being with Wyatt but what if Agent Christopher did? No, she couldn't do that.

So, Lucy kept it all between her and the bottle of vodka under her cot. Just a glass before bed so her swirling thoughts and Wyatt's haunting words quieted enough for sleep.

She turned off the water, wrapped the towel around her, and then stood in front of the sinks and the mirrors. She took in her tired eyes and whiter than usual skin and realized she looked like a shell of herself. Or at least who she used to be before all of this. Her eyes fell from the mirror and noticed a cracked tile on the wall. She narrowed her eyes on it thoughtfully.

Why had she never noticed it before? Where had it come from? She reached out and ran her fingers over it. Feeling the grooves and the cracks and the places where the tile had broken completely. This bunker was old, but none of the other tiles were cracked. This wasn't wear and tear. It was done deliberately. She didn't know why but her eyes kept being drawn to it as she dressed and brushed her teeth and tried to do something with her hair. Not that it mattered. Unless they jumped, where was she going to go?

She removed the chair once she was dressed in case anyone else needed the sinks and then started to try and find a way to hide her ghostly complexion. But again, her eyes and hands were pulled down to that cracked tile.

What was it about that tile that called to her? Her fingers traced it again and wondered about the story behind it. Would she ever know?

"I, um, I did that."

She spun immediately to face the voice. She knew who it was before her eyes met the deep blue ones that haunted her dreams. "You did? Why? When?"

Wyatt swallowed thickly and shrugged, the towel on his shoulder fell slightly. "You were missing," he said as he took a deep breath. "No one would let me go look for you. They all kept telling me you might be dead. The anger had to go somewhere. The tile was just the most convenient victim."

"Didn't that hurt?" She asked with a furrowed brow.

He chuckled bitterly. "Like hell. But...well, at least when it hurt I felt something. You know?"

Did she know?

At least when it hurt I felt something…

Of course she knew. She was going through that now.

Lucy nodded because she didn't know what words she could reply with. She didn't really know what to do with that confession either. He had been so worried over her that he had to hurt himself? To make himself bleed? For her? That did not compute with their current situation. She could picture Wyatt flying into a rage over Jessica, she'd seen it first hand. But her? No way. And even at that, punching a wall was not risking imprisonment at a government black site. It's not like he'd gotten court martialed for her or anything. He had been worried and angry.

Any friend would have been too.

Except apparently all of hers had assumed she was dead.

She didn't know what to do with that either.

In that moment she remembered their last interaction. He had tried to talk to her like they used to. He had asked about the mission but really what he wanted was to know what she felt and what she thought. He wanted to listen to her talk. No more, no less. He had done that before on a particularly bad night. When he remembered Syria, when he remembered when she was missing, when he remembered his father, when he remembered Jessica. They would sit and he would listen. Maybe he would add something to the conversation if he felt particularly open, but usually he would watch her, gravitate toward her, take her in. She used to love it. It made her feel useful, valued, special.

But now it threatened to crush her with sorrow. That couldn't be her anymore. He had a wife. That woman should be his wife. He should sit in their room with Jessica and take her in instead. Listen to her talk. Be with her. His wife.

"Lucy." His voice was hoarse and pained as he spoke. "Please just talk to me."

She shut her eyes tight and turned her back to him. "What do you call this?"

"You know what I mean. Talk to me like it matters. Like we matter."

"I...can't do that anymore, Wyatt. You can't ask that of me," Lucy said with a shaky inhale of breath. "You have Jessica. She can talk to you now. She should talk to you now. She's your wife."

"But you are my best friend."

The words shouldn't have hurt. He didn't mean for them to hurt. But good god it felt like she had been shot in the heart.

"I can't be anymore. You know that."

"No, I don't know that. Why can't you be my best friend?"

"Because your wife and your best friend should be the same woman," Lucy said with a huff. "And I'm not your wife, am I?"

"Luce."

No. No, he did not. He can pull out Babydoll, and Professor, and ma'am all he wants but "Luce" is a bridge too far. The first time he called her that he had practically moaned it against her lips and then proceeded to whisper it all over her heated body for the rest of the night. He knew what it did to her. He had no right to use it against her now.

His hand was on her arm then, turning her to face him, and for a split second the grimey bathroom fell away and they were bathed in the warm glow of the fire in Hedy's guest house. His eyes met hers and she saw the familiar heat behind them and the tell-tale way those blue pools of his drifted between her lips and her eyes. She allowed herself to imagine letting him close the distance between them. She indulged a fantasy for just a moment but as soon as he began to actually lean in she wrenched her arm from his grip.

He looked surprised at first and then ashamed. She watched him shut his eyes tightly as his brow crinkled and his face pinched in a way that hurt her. He was in pain and she felt that pain with him. He hung his head and his shoulders slumped and she heard a loud shaky exhale.

"I'm sorry," he said as he finally looked up again. He didn't step toward her or reach for her. He stayed firmly planted right where he was. "I—just then when I—I shouldn't have done that."

"No," Lucy spat angrily. "You shouldn't have." Just because she felt his pain didn't mean she wasn't pissed. "While we're at it, please never call me 'Luce' again. You and I are not the people we were to each other in 1941, Wyatt, and that nickname—that nickname belonged to them. It should stay in that guest house with the two of them."

"I miss you."

She barely heard him say it and she wished she hadn't heard it at all. She missed him too, but he wasn't hers to miss anymore and she wasn't his.

"This isn't going to work," Lucy said through a tense jaw. "You made a choice. You wanted to fix your marriage. Go fix it and leave me alone. Please."

"What if I'd rather fix us instead?"

The question was posed so hesitantly as if he knew he shouldn't express the thought, but couldn't stop himself.

"There's no longer an us for you to fix, Wyatt. Let it go. For the sake of your marriage and the sake of my heart, let us go," She pleaded while gathering her things.

She had to get out of that bathroom. She couldn't look at him anymore. She needed her vodka and her cot—no, wait, couch. She offered to let Rufus take her spot in Jiya's room tonight. She would sneak back into her room and grab the vodka and then go pass out on the couch. She would forget Wyatt Logan even existed. She would forget that she felt all alone and suffocated in this hellhole. She would just...forget.

She pushed passed him to briskly leave the bathroom and he didn't stop her. He didn't call out after her. He did nothing. It was a small mercy, but she would take what she could get at the moment.

After nearly finishing off one glass of Vodka, Lucy realized sleep wasn't in the cards for her tonight. She also kept replaying Flynn's request to get to know her. Why shouldn't she let him? What was stopping her? Besides all the time Garcia Flynn spent trying to kill them, that is. She had questions for him too. Not only that, but…

She needed a goddamn friend and he was offering to be one.

Yes, decision made. She couldn't talk to Rufus, wouldn't put that on Jiya, Christopher was her boss, and she didn't really know Mason. She needed a friend and Flynn was available and willing.

Why the hell not, right?

Flynn smiled knowingly and let her in. She sat on his cot and opened the bottle, took a swig, and then offered it to him. He nodded and accepted the bottle from her but didn't drink.

"What happened with you and Wyatt this time?" He asked.

"What makes you think I'm here because of Wyatt?"

"Because I heard him stomping past my door about half an hour ago. The only thing, aside from myself, to cause that kind of reaction in him is you," Flynn told her with a smirk. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. I made sure of it," Lucy told him with a roll of her eyes.

"Did you want something to happen?" Flynn asked. He didn't ask like he needed an answer, though. He asked like it was a foregone conclusion.

She grabbed the bottle back from Flynn and took a long sip before she answered. "Yes."

"You know, you can fight for what you want," Flynn told her. "That wouldn't make you a villain."

"I'm not going to be the person who messes this up for Wyatt. I refuse to be the reason he doesn't try with Jessica," Lucy said with a sigh. "Besides, he's wanted her for much longer than he's wanted me. He'll get over it eventually." She handed Flynn the bottle back and waved dismissively at him. "He'll forget he ever wanted me, as he should."

Flynn scoffed and spoke up sarcastically. "Sure, he will. He'll forget he wants you just as soon as he forgets how I took you from him after we killed David Rittenhouse."

Lucy winced at the memory and slid away from him by a few inches. He noticed her movement and seemed apologetic. Like he had in the car earlier. The minute she moved he put the bottle to his lips.

"You underestimate yourself, Lucy," Flynn told her after a moment of heavy silence. "You underestimate the impression you leave in your wake."

"Are we still talking about Wyatt?" Lucy asked with a furrowed brow.

"Yes and no," Flynn admitted. "You're a formidable woman. Brilliant, strong, determined. You don't back down. And, for people who are as broken as myself and Wyatt Logan, those things force us to believe we can do and be better. They force us to believe in you. To care about you."

For the second time that night, she didn't know what to do with the information she was given. Two different men, though similar creatures who went down two different paths, both surprised her tonight.

"He won't forget," Flynn told her when she didn't respond to his confession. "Trust me."

She bit her bottom lip and considered Flynn's words. He wouldn't, would be? Wyatt Logan would continue to watch her and pine as long as they were stuck in the bunker together. If she's being honest, so would she. Shared proximity was going to kill his marriage and shatter her heart. She couldn't let either of those things happen. Jessica made Wyatt happy, Lucy would not be what took that from him.

"He would. I would. If one of us could get out of this tin can," Lucy told him. "I need distance."

"If JFK can escape," Flynn said with a grin. "Then I imagine you could too."

"Sure, but the minute I do I'm dead or captured. I have nowhere to go and Rittenhouse wants me dead," Lucy said as she felt hot angry tears sting her eyes. She refused to let them fall. She was trapped here and that's all there was to it.

"I might be able to help you with that. If that's really what you want?" Flynn offered reluctantly.

"How?"

Wait, could this actually happen? Could she really leave the bunker? Maybe she could make a fresh start somewhere else? Be someone besides Lucy Preston? It was too good to be true.

"I lived off the grid for a year while I planned to steal the Mothership. I know how to live unnoticed. Plus, I still have a few undiscovered safe houses out there. Places where you could be safe and above ground," Flynn told her.

Safe and above ground. That sounded wonderful.

"Why would you offer that to me?" She asked him suspiciously.

"Wyatt isn't the only person in this bunker who deserves happiness." Flynn said with a tired sigh as if he were tired of encouraging her already. "If you think leaving will make you happy then I can help."

She was so close to throwing her arms around him in the kind of hugs usually saved for Rufus or Wyatt. If it wasn't for the memory of his grip bruising her wrist as he dragged her toward the Mothership, she might have. She was about to say yes and ask how he thought they should begin planning when she remembered…

Keynes.

Her hope instantly deflated.

"I can't leave before we take out Keynes. We're already in the middle of that fight. I can't abandon it."

"Well, I'm leaving the offer on the table," Flynn said with a decisive nod. "If you change your mind, it's there."

It took two weeks for Lucy to change her mind.

They had Keynes on the run, close to defeating him. She found some strange kinship with Flynn in the midst of it. There was an edge of attraction to it but Lucy stayed clear of it. One man who loved a dead wife was enough. She would not fall for two. Not only that, but she was still working through her past with Flynn on a daily basis. It was hard enough being friends with him after knowing what his hands around her throat, in an attempt to strangle her, felt like. Regardless of that, though, talking to him allowed her to feel and sleep better. She was feeling more like herself than she had in a long time.

So, of course, something had to ruin it.

Well, someone more accurately.

The firm hand under her elbow and the familiar calluses she felt on that hand told her exactly who was pulling her into the bunker bathroom before she ever saw his face.

"So, what, you and Flynn are best buddies now?" Wyatt asked harshly.

No greeting, no preamble, just jealousy and resentment. She had been in such a good mood before this. She had been ignoring Jessica and Wyatt and succeeding. Yes, her heart was still broken but she could feel parts of it healing little by little. Space and distance were always good for a healthy dose of perspective.

But now her good mood was gone.

She sighed tiredly and leaned against the bathroom wall.

"It's really none of your damn business what Flynn and I are, Wyatt," Lucy said in a huff.

Her words weren't flippant or biting. They were resigned and dripping with exhaustion. She couldn't live in this purgatory of a relationship with Wyatt anymore. It was too hard. Every little piece of progress she earned was quickly dashed by the overwhelming confusion in Wyatt's heart. She knew he was conflicted. She didn't fool herself into thinking he wasn't. But it wasn't because he really wanted her over Jessica. It was because they had been so close when they both needed someone. It was because of old wounds and common ground and an understanding that had changed both of them for the better. Not love. Not for him.

"None of my business?" He asked with a glare. "Lucy, we fought Flynn for the better part of a year. He held a gun to your head, sold you out to freaking Nazis, trapped us in the Alamo, taunted you with that bullshit journal, stranded us in 1754, took you from me because you saved a kid's life, led Rufus and I straight to that bastard HH Holmes who he paid to take us out-"

"I get it!" Lucy yelled when it was clear Wyatt had no intention of stopping. "Believe me, I remember all of it as clearly as you do. Being friends with him isn't easy, but I'm...I'm enjoying it." If he wanted to talk about this then she was going to to tell him the truth. Pull no punches. "I can talk to him about anything and I never have to read between the lines. I know where I stand with him, at all times. Yes, okay, when he touches me I'm reminded of the awful things he did to hurt us, but he knows that. He hasn't forgotten and I can tell he regrets it. So yes, Wyatt. Flynn and I are friends now. You need to deal with that because friends are few and far between these days and I'm not turning my back on him simply because you want me to."

Wyatt was staring at her with shock and hurt and something else in his eyes. Something she couldn't read. He was quiet for a long time and finally Lucy gave up and reached for the chair so she could leave him to resolve whatever emotions he had on his own time. She had a hand on the chair when he finally spoke again.

"He-you let him touch you?"

The question was stuttered and spat out like poison. The implication of what Wyatt thought she meant hung in the air. She had mentioned Flynn touching her, yes, but she meant a touch to the arm or the hand, something innocent that came from friendship.

But that's not what Wyatt heard.

Her first instinct was to correct him but then she thought...why should she?

She chuckled bitterly and shook her head at him. "Out of everything I just said to you, that's what you're focusing on? I don't know what you want from me. Do you want me to just mope around the bunker and wait for you while you get your shit together? How did you picture this going with Jessica back in your life? Did you think I would always be hopelessly devoted Lucy Preston at your beck and call for whenever you need me? That line of thinking is beneath you, Wyatt. You're better than that."

She saw the moment on his face where realization dawned over him. He grimaced and sucked in a sharp breath, eyes instantly turning apologetic. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize, but she was done. She couldn't listen to him apologize one more time.

She ripped the chair away from the door and pulled the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

"Don't bother apologizing," she told him. "You've done enough of that recently. It's not working anymore."

She stormed out of the bathroom and down the hall, banged on Flynn's door until he answered. She knew Wyatt had followed her. She could feel his eyes burning a hole into her back. Flynn saw him too if the concerned glance he gave her and then the smirk he flashed over her shoulder was any indication.

"We need to talk," she told him. "I've changed my mind."

Flynn's eyes widened and he nodded. He stepped back to allow Lucy into the room and then waved at Wyatt before closing the door.

"Do you have to taunt him like that?" Lucy asked with a small grin.

"I'm trapped in this hellhole with people who wanted me dead this time last year. I have to find my fun somewhere."

Honestly, it was a fair point. She couldn't really argue.

"So," Flynn said with a curious expression. "You've changed your mind?"

"I can't stay here," Lucy said with a shake of her head. "It's not going to work. Wyatt and I will make each other miserable until there's nothing left between us but disdain and I can't let that happen. I need you to break me out."

Flynn smirked and nodded. "Then consider it done. When are we doing this?"

"As soon as we take out Keynes. One he's gone, so am I," Lucy told him as she took in a fortifying breath.

She could do this. She could leave the little she had left in this world behind and start over. She could and would forget him.

She refused to let Wyatt Logan haunt her anymore.