A few nights later, Garcia heard a timid knocking on his door. He eyed it cautiously, wondering who was on the other side. It wasn't Lucy; that girl had a tendency to barge in and make herself at home. But who else would be coming to him? No one unless... there was an emergency.

Garcia quickly grabbed his gun and rushed to the door, throwing it open to reveal a very startled Lucy. The rest of the bunker was calm, and Garcia's initial panic wore off. "Lucy," he sighed in relief. "You scared me."

"I didn't knock that hard," Lucy replied. The brunette looked as if she was trying to shrink in on herself. For a short person, Lucy had a huge presence. Her odd behavior was starting to make Garcia's panic return.

"Exactly," Garcia said. "You never knock. I thought... well..." he motioned to the gun in his hand.

Lucy's eyes squeezed tightly shut as she shook her head gently. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," she apologized, and Garcia sighed again. He didn't want to hear another goddamn apology come out of that girl's mouth. "I-"

Garcia cut her off as he gently grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. He shut the door behind them and turned to Lucy. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with concern.

She bit at her lower lip, internally debating something. Garcia leaned back and watched her, patient but worried. He remembered what he had said a few nights ago, that he would prefer Lucy talking to him before hurting herself, and he suspected that was what this was about.

He didn't expect Lucy to pull out her knife and extend its handle towards him. "Here," Lucy said. "I want you to have this."

His hands hovered hesitantly above it as he stared in shock. "Lucy.." he began.

"I'm not going to find a rusty nail," she assured him. "I'm quitting, and I don't want this temptation anymore. So, here."

Garcia gently took the knife and placed it on his bedside table. By the time he turned around, Lucy was curled up in his chair staring down at the floor. He crossed the room to her and slowly knelt down in front of her. Without thinking, he took one of her hands in his and began rubbing circles against it with his thumb. "I assume you wanted to talk," he said.

Lucy met his eyes and nodded. "I do," she replied. "I just don't know what to say."

"I understand," Garcia replied softly. "This- this isn't an easy thing to deal with."

"It isn't," Lucy agreed. "And yet we turn to it because everything else is so hard to deal with."

Garcia smiled sadly in understanding. "You can tell me anything," he replied. "It won't change the way I see you."

"I was going to do it again tonight," Lucy admitted. "Even after what I said, I was going to do it again. I was just laying on the couch thinking about how goddamn lonely I am. I mean, I've lost everything. My mother, my sister, my whole damn life..."

"...And Wyatt?" Garcia asked gently.

Lucy's eyes watered as she nodded. "For a second, I thought maybe I wasn't alone in this screwed up universe my life has become," she replied. "But now I am again."

Garcia stood, feeling agitated. Lucy looked up at him worriedly, as if she was wondering if she had done something wrong. "That's it," he said firmly. "You are not spending another night on that couch."

"Garcia, I- I can't-"

He held up his hand, silencing her. "You're the strongest person I know, Lucy," he said. "But you need someone. And if you don't want me, I understand, but it has to be someone."

Lucy searched his eyes for a moment. "I want it to be you," she said decisively.

Garcia's breath hitched in his throat. He hadn't actually expected her to want him, even though he badly wanted her. The truth was, he was lonely too, and he had been hanging onto the journal like a lifeline for so long. Having Lucy here in person wasn't the same. It was better. But she was a real person, and he couldn't cling to her so tightly that she would suffocate.

"I've been thinking, ever since our talk in the bathroom," Garcia began. "Well, I've been wanting to ask Agent Christopher to get an extra cot. For here. For you."

Lucy's brow furrowed. "You would do that for me?" she asked.

Garcia bit his cheek in frustration, wondering how low Lucy's self-esteem had to be that this was a surprise. "Yes," he said gently. "Of course.

"Thank you," Lucy whispered.

"But until then," Garcia said, turning back to his bed. "You're still not sleeping on that couch." He sat down on his bed, scooted to the edge, and lifted the covers for Lucy to join.

The conflict was clear on Lucy's face. "Flynn, I can't," she argued.

"Lucy, I swear to God if you walk back out to that couch, I will follow you and lay down on the floor. You really want me sleeping on the floor?" he asked with a small, teasing smile.

The brunette relented and gently climbed into bed with him. She laid down facing him, tucking herself under his head and into his chest. He placed a chaste kiss on the top of her head before bringing the covers down over them. Garcia had to admit, even though the bed was small, he enjoyed the warmth from her body and the scent of shampoo in her hair. He was going to miss it when she got her own cot.