Hi guys, chapter 4 is in !
The next one will be a bit angsty but we'll see them interact more and come to terms with what happened with Jessica =)
Hope you'll stay tuned :)
If you liked it, leave a review, it will make me very happy to have some feedback from the wonderful fandom and interact with you on the story!
They were making progress. In every sense of the way.
Since their moment on the mates, things were improving a little. She was still reluctant to spend time with him alone, beside their training sessions and the mornings they were spending in complete silence.
Movie nights were organized by Rufus and Jiya. It was the perfect excuse to get used to each other's presence without feeling pressured.
Denise would bring Michelle on some nights and Connor was too much invested in his newfound research so he was only seen when he needed to eat and rare were the times he joined them.
She was also still spending time with Flynn. She knew he wanted her to trust him, to know him but she also knew he knew more than he let on. Sometimes, he wouldn't pay attention but he was saying things like he knew what was going to happen. She always thought he has done what he could to protect her because he had felt an instant connection with her through her journal but after their future selves showed up, the way he looked at them, with a new found hope, she understood he cared about her all this time because somehow she or more exactly her future self was the key to get his family back.
There was no more drinking involved in their conversations and that's how they would find themselves whispering in the common room, after dinner, about their memories and hope for their loved ones. They would talk about Lorena, Iris, Amy and they kept them alive, just like that.
Those conversations helped her in many ways. Though they never talked about Wyatt, when Flynn was telling her about his family, her mind always wandered to him, and in a weird way, Flynn seemed to know what she was thinking.
One time, he told her about the honesty he shared with Lorena. He told her that no matter how mad they were at each other, it didn't get in the way when he had confessions to make to his wife. And most of the times, when they talked, it helped them to get past whatever they were going through and get back on track.
One morning, while everyone else was asleep and they were having breakfast in their usual quiet dance, she decided to break that silence and share some her confessions.
" I remember waking up in a little room. To my mom, hovering me, and telling me everything was going to be alright while my head registered I had my wrists cuffed to the bed ».
Wyatt looked up as soon as he heard her voice, visibly struck by what he just heard. He looked at her, looking down at her cup of tea, trying to remember the things she tried to suppress for so long.
« I woke up again hours later, or days, I don't know. To the same voice, the same comforting words, to the same hands cuffed to the bed, she said, chuckling at her paradoxical words.
" My mother would come, sit next to me, and talk about Rittenhouse, about how it was my legacy, how my place in it was important, how great things I will do in the name of Rittenhouse." She paused, took a sip of her tea, put the cup down, and kept staring at it. She wanted to share this with Wyatt, it didn't mean she wanted him to see the ghost of memories in her eyes.
" I wasn't responding as I was supposed to be. So my dear mother took it to the next step. One day, she came into my room with a piece of newspapers . She didn't say anything, just showed it to me and left the was relating the explosion at Mason's. From that day on, watching this piece of paper became my morning ritual.
What my mother mistaken for a newfound empathy and adoration to Rittenhouse was in fact a strong desire to avenge the team, Rufus,...you. A strong need to destroy them, even at the cost of my life."
" It was hard to keep a straight face in front of all of them, but I needed to be strong. I needed to get to a point when they were ready to trust me in order to send me on a mission. In a way, my mother helped me. She took the responsibility to bring me to France, where we all met again. She is the one who was proud to show off her daughter, the true and only heir to Rittenhouse himself.
When she said this, Wyatt couldn't help himself but interrupt her :
« What are you saying ? »
« You heard right. I am a direct descendant of David Rittenhouse himself. The father of the child Flynn wanted to kill. The child who got away because of me, or thanks to me" she frowned. " I don't know anymore" she chuckled.
« Lucy... » Wyatt tried desperately to say something but the truth is, he didn't know what could say after all this. This woman was surprising. When he thought any chance at an intimate conversation was out of question, here she was, confessing it all, like he wanted her to do so, months ago.
She was still trying to collect her thoughts when she felt two strong arms moving her up from the chair she was sitting on and she found herself wrapped in his arms. It took her a second to get familiar again with him, her face in the crook of his neck. Breathing him in as he was breathing her in. It took her a second again to wrap her arms around him and to find herself drawing circles on his back. Back and forth. Fingers lingering on his neck. His arms pressing her into his chest as if he never wanted to let go. As if he wanted her to feel what he didn't succeed with words.
They stayed like this for a moment.
This time, there was no responsibilities to go for. His responsibility was right there, in his arms. This time, she was the one sinking into him and he was the one holding them together.
This time, she was the one who needed comfort. And he was there, holding her, comforting her when words were useless. This time, she didn't get away because she was tired of fighting off something she wanted. She was longing for his touch, so much.
They parted slowly, they looked at each other, and they knew they were on the right path.
He let go of her neck.
She brushed out a stray hair out of his face.
Their signature moves.
They smiled at each other.
Later that day, both of them thought about their future selves and for the first time, they didn't feel weird or troubled. They felt right.
