Lucy stared at the calendar reminder on her phone cursing her bad luck. She ran her fingers over the stitches on the side of her forehead. How in the world was she going to explain to her mother how she ended up with these things? It was bad enough that her mother thought she had thrown her life away with this new job, and then there was her breakup with Noah and subsequent marriage to Wyatt, but this? The minute she saw these stitches she was going to go ballistic and Lucy wasn't sure if, on top of everything else that had gone south in her life lately, she could handle yet another lecture from her mother on the consequences of her "poor choices." It certainly seemed that she was right, though, didn't it? Her husband was off trying to patch things up with his ex-wife and Lucy had just spent the last several hours dragging one of her dearest friends through the streets of Boston, while bleeding profusely from her forehead. She didn't even have a place to call home anymore. She appreciated all that Jiya had done for her, but somehow sleeping on a futon in your friend's living room wasn't the same as having your own bed.
Now as she stood outside the door of what used to be her home with Wyatt, she felt all the awkwardness of her situation. This was her home and she had every right to be there, but she couldn't help but feel that to go in, she would somehow be trespassing. The Wyatt who lived here was not her Wyatt, and while he was really the stranger in this timeline, this apartment had been his first, and Lucy didn't feel right about making him find another place to stay. Her current dilemma lay in the fact that she had a planning committee meeting tomorrow evening, followed the next night, by a dinner with her mother and the Liberal Arts Dean, which meant she was going to need a dress and her Stanford badge – both of which lay in that apartment. Wyatt was most likely not at home, which gave her some comfort as she stood awkwardly outside her own front door. It was an eight-hour drive to San Diego and so even if he had left yesterday to go see Jessica, chances of him coming back today were relatively slim. Besides, she bitterly admitted, he was on leave and would most likely want to spend as much time with his wife as he possibly could. Despite those conclusions and the fact that she did not see his Jeep, she still knocked on the door…just in case. When it was clear that her instincts were correct, she sighed heavily, fitted her key in the lock and walked in.
The sight that met her eyes was discomforting at best. Photo albums strewn all over the place, a bottle of Jack Daniels sitting open on the coffee table, and cushions askew on the couch. She shook off her coat, set down her purse and keys and began straightening up the place. It may not have been her mess, but she still felt responsible for it in more ways than one. Though this Wyatt may not have wanted to admit it, this was her home and she felt a sort of pride in that. However, it was because this Wyatt was not her Wyatt that the place looked like this to begin with. She could've been angry about it, she supposed, but instead she looked around and saw desperation. A desperation to understand a life that he did not know and it made her unbelievably frustrated and sad. She had wanted to help him, but he kept pushing her away until finally she just stopped trying – it hurt too much to realize that she was the source of his misery. Now that he was where he wanted to be and with whom he wanted to be with, she hoped he would be happy.
She wouldn't be…but she was getting used to disappointment these days.
She never knew exactly what had happened when her Wyatt had gone to see Jessica in her timeline. He had gone, but even though she and Wyatt were "engaged" they were little more than friends, and so he didn't say much about it to her, other than it was something he needed to do. She didn't feel it was her place to ask and when they did become a couple, she didn't think it was necessary. He had moved on and if he wasn't looking back, why should she? She had no idea if Jessica had moved on, if she was involved with someone or if she and Wyatt had even gotten along. She only knew that Wyatt had gone there desperate to see her and came back more at peace than she had ever seen him.
She harbored a small hope that the same might be said for this Wyatt. As much as it hurt her to see him go, she knew that he would not be satisfied until he went. However, this time she had far more to lose and knowing, as she did, how much he wanted out of this marriage with her – she half wondered if that wouldn't give him more motivation to stay behind and fight for Jessica – the woman he repeatedly referred to as "the only one for him.".
After cleaning the mess in the living room, Lucy made her way to the bathroom. She needed a shower and wanted nothing more than to go to bed, but she had no idea when Wyatt would be back and she didn't want to make their situation any more awkward than it already was. But where the hell was she going to go? To Jiya's? Alone? If she thought coming to her own apartment was awkward, it was nothing to what it would be like to stay at Jiya's place without Jiya there. She could go to her mother's, but then she'd have to answer uncomfortable questions a little earlier than she was prepared for and she didn't want to face that tonight. She was too exhausted from the stress of the day to deal with her mother's antics. A hotel? That was always a possibility…but as she made her way into her bedroom, the lure of her bed was becoming harder and harder to resist. She decided that a nap wouldn't hurt, she would shower, change into loungers and get a few hours of sleep and then she would leave. She'd go to Mason, to her mother's, to a hotel…any place but here.
Wyatt left Mason Industries several hours after he had arrived. He read and re-read the mission debrief so many times that he almost had the whole thing memorized. Lucy had naturally figured out Flynn's plan, Bam Bam had made an amazing last minute shot to avoid disaster, but then all hell broke loose. Bam Bam's account reminded him of serving with him in Delta Force. He had gotten into a pretty tight spot with one of Flynn's henchman which ended up in a hostage situation. Cool headed under pressure, as Wyatt knew him to be, Bam Bam had taken him out with one shot to the head. The gentleman he saved, offered to buy him a drink and Dave Baumgardner stupidly agreed after quickly glancing around, seeing no Lucy and Rufus in sight. He had been in the tavern for only a few minutes before he was dragged out by Flynn and a few of his hired toughs and tied to a post in the back.
Idiot.
Lucy's account had made Wyatt's hair stand on end as he had read it over and over again obsessing over every instance where she could have been killed, taken, or hurt worse than she already was. His fears were compounded when read about Rufus' injury and the state he had been in when they finally got him back to the LifeBoat. Rufus could have died. Apart from losing a friend, the team would've lost their pilot…and their way back home. She would've been lost to him forever and forced to live out the rest of her life in the 18th century…with only Bam Bam for company. That thought made Wyatt rage with more than just anger as he imagined the two of them, together, trying to eke out a living in colonial times.
As he pored over her account, he was at once filled with horror and pride at every instance where Lucy had gone above and beyond her role as the team historian. Reading how Lucy had dragged a bleeding and wounded Rufus out of the street on her own, how she had bravely gone for help despite Rufus' protests, how she had followed her instincts and ended up rescuing Bam Bam caused Wyatt to sit back in awe of her resilience under pressure. He knew she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, but the fact that she had done all of this with little to no help in a century so far removed from the present, filled him with immense pride. She had saved them all.
With that pride, however, came the horror of knowing that Lucy had struggled and suffered on her own because the person tasked with her protection had failed in his duty to the team. She had sat there waiting for help that would never come, she had gone off alone in the night, leaving Rufus behind, in an effort to save their lives and get them home. Rufus had begged her not to go. Wyatt shuddered to think what would have happened if she didn't and it made him even more ill to think what could have happened to her if she had walked into that tavern filled with Flynn's hired thugs. It was already bad enough that she was almost killed saving Bam Bam's miserable life, but to know that all of that happened because he had neglected them? Wyatt could barely contain himself. Bam Bam was responsible for this mess, that was certain, but none of it would have happened if Wyatt had been where he belonged in the first place.
He stopped in to see Rufus for a few minutes, but as he was heavily sedated, he only got to talk to a very concerned looking Jiya. She, like him, was furious at Dave Baumgardner…not just for what had happened to Rufus, but for what could have happened to Lucy. She kept impressing upon Wyatt how very lucky Lucy was that she had walked away with minimal injuries and how relieved she was that nothing worse had happened. While he was grateful that Jiya cared about Lucy so much, her repeated fears about Lucy's well-being started making Wyatt feel a little anxious; that perhaps Lucy was far more injured than either the brief or Agent Christopher had let on. With Jiya at Mason with Rufus, Wyatt suddenly worried about Lucy being alone and he felt a new tug of guilt when he remembered why she was at Jiya's in the first place. Maybe, he thought miserably, she had gone to her mother's.
He slowly made his way up the stairs to his apartment, wondering if he could ever patch things up with her, especially after what had happened on this mission. Surely this was just another reason she would have to despise him. His being with Jessica instead of with the team had led to chaos, to put it quite bluntly, and no matter how many times Agent Christopher told him he was not responsible, he knew that indirectly, at least, he was.
He sighed as he opened his apartment door, bracing himself for the barrage of emotions that came with this new apartment where everything reminded him of his once close relationship with Lucy Preston; a relationship that was everyday slipping away from him. As soon as he flipped on the light switch however, his heart began to hammer in his chest. Looking around his apartment, it was clear that somebody had straightened the place up. He had definitely not left it like this. For a moment, he almost feared that he had walked into another new timeline, but then he remembered he had just read the mission debrief and everything had seemed as it had before he left, minus Lucy and Rufus' injuries. No, someone had been here and it had to have been Lucy.
Why wouldn't she have come back here? This was her home after all…well, at least this Lucy and he had hated himself for basically driving her away from it. He would've stayed on the couch, he would've slept on the floor, he would've done anything for Lucy to make her feel comfortable. But she had selflessly (and, Wyatt thought, foolishly) believed that by leaving him here alone she was helping him by giving him space. However, all it did was make him miss her all the more. There was evidence of her everywhere in this apartment, but physically, she was miles away. That fact had eaten Wyatt up with regret and guilt since that very first night he arrived in this timeline.
Setting down his phone and jacket, he walked softly to the bedroom door, believing it was too much to hope that she might still be here; It was deathly quiet after all, and it wasn't that late. Steeling himself for disappointment, he eased open the bedroom door with a gentle push. As the door swung open, surprise, relief, and utter happiness stole over him when he saw that she was actually there…in his bed. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest at the sight of Lucy, propped up to almost sitting, head tilted to the side, asleep. He inched his way over to her, noticing with a smile, that she had once again, fallen asleep with a book open on her chest. He tenderly pushed back the comforter and eased her down into the sheets, taking care that he didn't jar her too much and wake her. Seeing her beautiful, ivory skin marred with a jagged line of stitches caused him to feel a fresh wave of anger towards Bam Bam. As softly as he could, he allowed his fingers to brush against them, regretting all the more the fact that he hadn't been there to keep her safe. After turning off her bedside lamp, Wyatt pulled the comforter up over her shoulder, allowing his hand to rest on her softly for just a moment. He was almost about to back away, when Lucy nestled deeper into the covers, hummed in her sleep, and murmured a sleepy, "I love you, Wyatt".
His heart almost stopped.
He knew that those words weren't meant for him. Not this him, anyway. Yet, as he stood there hovering over her, terrified to wake her up and break the spell, he found that he wanted nothing more than to be that Wyatt. She meant more to him than he ever wanted to admit, burdened as he was with his guilt and loyalty to Jessica, but right now, in this moment, all he could see was her. He thought that after seeing his former wife it would put his feelings for Lucy in check, but he was slowly starting to realize that the opposite was true. Seeing Jessica had thrown these two women into sharp contrast for him and it was surprisingly Lucy who was first and foremost in his heart and mind.
Fighting the urge to just take her in his arms and kiss her, he compromised, by leaning over to gently press a soft kiss to her forehead. He slowly backed away, not wanting to take his eyes from her, and quietly gathered his things for bed. He crept silently out of the room and took care to ease the door shut behind him.
Once on the other side of the door, Wyatt let out the breath he had been holding. There was something so comforting about the knowledge that she was here. At home. With him. Wyatt felt for the first time since he arrived in this new life, that he would be able to sleep without the added help of whiskey. He had just changed his clothes and reclined himself down on the couch when he was suddenly filled with anxiety. His feelings for Lucy had only gotten stronger with this visit to Jess, but Lucy? As far as he was aware Lucy detested him…at least this version of him. He couldn't blame her, after everything he had put her through in this past week. He thought back to their last conversation, and he began to doubt that she would be pleased to see him the following morning. Instead of the peaceful night of sleep he had hoped to get, he instead, lay away for hours thinking of what in the world he could say to Lucy to repair the damage he had done to their relationship.