She awoke with a throbbing pain in her shoulder. Her eyelids felt like they were sewn shut, taking a considerable amount of effort to open. She was staring at the ornate ceiling of the hotel, almost immediately remembering the events of the night before. Was it last night? Lucy picked her head up, examining her surroundings.

Flynns bag and coat were gone. The two bottles had remained where Flynn had tossed them. The room was still dark, the sun just peeking out over the horizon. By her guess, it was roughly 6 AM.

She was struck then by a strong pain in her shoulder. She hissed, her eyes roaming up her arm until they settled on her wrist—handcuffed to the bedpost above her. She groaned, her head falling back into the soft pillow.

The door opened and closed quietly, clunky footsteps entering the room. Lucy's eyes stayed glued to the ceiling- it didn't take a genius to guess who had entered.

"You said if I took the pill you wouldn't cuff me to the bed," Lucy said, her tone flat. She heard him shuffle,

"I said if you took the pill," Flynn approached the bed, entering her field of vision. "I seem to remember you refusing that quite adamantly."

Lucy rolled her eyes, pulling roughly against the rotting wood with a grunt.

"Well now that you've returned, take them off."

Lucy was too afraid to acknowledge the growing pit in her stomach that signaled an incoming panic attack. She tightened her hands into fists, willing them to stop shaking.

"Remember our agreement-"

"Goddamnit, Flynn, let me out of this or I swear I will-"

"You'll what?" He asked. She sighed, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill. She was exhausted, in pain, hungry out of her mind, and wanted nothing more than to be home. But she couldn't do anything to help that, could she? The knife at her hip was next to useless-a mere comfort that she had a semblance of defense. Her eyes fluttered closed, defeated.

"Nothing," she mumbled.

Her acquiescence was a shock to Flynn, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Lucy busied herself with focusing on her breathing, taming the internal panic that was threatening to burst through her relatively calm facade. Flynn regarded her a moment longer before turning away.

"We're venturing outside today," His voice was muffled in her head, her focus on his words hanging on by a thread, "I have a feeling you might even enjoy it." He returned with a jumble of cloth in his hands, dropping the burgundy fabric next to her on the bed. Lucy covered up the shakiness of her breath with an exaggerated sigh.

"So, what must I do to get released from these today?"

Flynn smiled his devious smile and shook his head.

"Nothing. As long as you stay perfectly agreeable." He reached for the handcuffs, and Lucy knew the excitement was showing clearly on her face. He paused, glaring down at her, "To a reasonable extent." He punctuated his words sharply.

She would do anything for freedom from bound hands, something she was getting uncomfortably used to. She closed her eyes, because somehow it was easier that way. As always, Lucy nodded. As always, she was a slave to his silver key.

But the release was worth it.

She hadn't been prepared for the weight on her shoulders, and her fists came racing down, hitting herself in the face. The metal of the handcuffs cut into the skin below her eye, and a sharp sting accompanied the sensation. Shocked, she sat up, tracing the area below her left eye; her hand came away dotted with blood.

Flynn made a disapproving noise, unlocking the second cuff from her wrist. Lucy sat up, wincing at the soreness in her shoulder. Flynn ducked down to her eye level, wiping her undereye with the pad of his thumb.

"Well if your plan was to make me look as suspicious as possible, its working." He shook his head, wiping her blood on the towel from last night. Lucy stood slowly, making her way to the mirror in the corner and stilled.

Flynn was right. She looked...defeated. Where her wrists weren't red with irritation, they were spotted with caked blood. She had bruises on her forearm and upper arm, both in the shape of a handprint. Her eyes were sunken, her lips dry with thirst. To top it off, she had a cut the size of a paperclip under her eye. On the surface, she will pass as just another woman. But to anyone who regarded her with even a slight amount of further interest, she would stand out immediately. She was attacked by a pile of cloth, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Get dressed." Flynn crossed his arms across the room, his shoulder leaning against the wall. He stared at her behind hooded eyes. Lucy raised her eyebrows,

"Are you going to leave?"

"No."

"Are you going to turn around?"

"No."

"Then I'm not changing," Lucy dropped the dress on the floor. The small knife was cold against her hip where it was still secured in the waistband of her underwear.

Flynn's expression didn't change.

They stood there at an impasse for a full minute, daring the other to break first. Lucy folded her arms across her chest, cocking her head to the side. Her gaze was strong and still, but so was Flynn's. When the door to the hotel room flew open, they both jumped.

"We've got a problem," Karl said.

~o~

Lucy changed when Flynn left the room, not quite sure which one of them had won the battle. Karl's frantic tone had put hope in Lucy's chest, a hope that had grown dimmer as the hours dragged on. She had just slipped on the undergarments when the door burst open once more.

"We're leaving." Flynn crossed in front of her without so much as a glance in her direction.

"Corset," was all Lucy said. Flynn stilled, gaze flicking to Karl and back to Lucy. He dropped his bag, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her back to him. He laced the corset roughly, pulling the strings in a rush. Lucy hissed, gripping the dresser for balance. When he was done he drew his hands back as if her skin was hot to the touch.

"Hurry up, you have two minutes," Flynn grumbled. Lucy was about to protest, but quickly decided this fight wasn't worth it. Her mother always told her to choose her battles wisely, though Lucy was never any good at that. She focused on stumbling into the dress.

It barely settled past her ankles when her arm was in Flynn's grasp, her body being dragged out the door. Flynn glanced in her direction, heaving a disappointed sigh. Lucy rolled her eyes,

"Now what?" She asked, noticing Karl halt at the end of the hallway.

Flynn didn't respond. Soon they were outside, the bright light of day harsh against Lucy's eyes. She flinched from the sun and the usual unfortunate smell the past always seemed to carry. It was almost midday by her struggled calculation, and still there was no sign of Wyatt or Rufus. She felt the nerves tingling in her stomach. Karl's frantic interruption could've been caused by the boys, but both Flynn and Karl seemed far more calm now as they exited the bustling blocks of the city.

They walked until the streets began to thin. The cobblestone turned to dirt and houses became fewer and far between. Before long, Lucy was staring at the treeline of a forest, the city merely a rumble in the distance.

"Why are we going to the woods?" Lucy asked, anxiety building in her stomach, scared to go anywhere Wyatt and Rufus couldn't follow. She thought briefly about digging her heels in the dirt, fighting for just a little more time for them to find her.

"Your friends are too skilled for their own good at ruining my plans," Flynn grunted as he stepped over a log. "They must have discovered who my targets were and warned them." He swatted a fly from his face, wiping the dead insect on his trousers. "That or they all simultaneously contracted the flu and decided to cancel their once in a lifetime meeting."

Her face fell. Lucy wanted to feel relieved. She wanted to feel that victory they always felt after narrowly saving yet another historical figure from an untimely death. But instead of the pride she thought she'd feel, she felt uncertainty instead. Wyatt and Rufus were there in 1893, yet they hadn't thought to save her.

You don't know that, A voice inside told her, They searched for you, that's why they came.

Lucy felt eyes on her, and looked up to see both Flynn and Karl staring at her. She furrowed her brows.

"What?" She asked. Flynn narrowed his eyes before turning his back to her,

"Nothing."

Flynn regarded her curiously before continuing,

"Anyway, your boys sent the Valley Gang after us, claiming I was a murderer."

"They're not wrong," Lucy mumbled. She heard Flynn chuckle quietly. When she looked at him he was shaking his head.

"What?" She asked again. She was tired of Flynn acting like he knew all of her secrets, that every choice she was going to make has been made long ago. She hated being predictable, trailing along after him and hi—no, her—journal

Flynn licked his lips and stared straight ahead.

"Nothing."

She saw the mothership in the distance. It was close; maybe a 5 minutes walk away. If she was going to do something it had to be now.

Flynn had sent Karl ahead to start the lifeboat. Lucy waited until he was out of earshot to do perhaps one of the dumbest things she had ever done. Her fingers found the knife through the cloth of her dress, pressing down on the top before she felt it slip along her leg and into her boot. She tripped, grabbing the knife from her boot as she pretended to steady herself. Flynn's hands were around her and she quickly hid the knife in her fist.

"You okay?" He asked. Had Lucy not known any better, she would swear she saw concern in his eyes. She nodded her head swiftly.

"I'm fine. It's not like these dresses were made for walks in the woods."

Lucy heard the mothership power up in the distance. It happened so fast that Lucy could barely process her own movements. She fiddled with the knife in her hand shakily before tripping once more. This time, Flynns arms were around her waist in a flash, catching her in the middle of her fall. The second she felt his arms around her, she flipped the blade out and plunged it into his thigh.

He didn't scream, instead released a loud grunt through his teeth. His grip around her loosened, and she pushed out of the circle of his arms. Before she could run away, her upper arm was caught in his grasp. When she turned to look at him, his eyes looked feral. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of vicious barking. They froze.

"Spread out! He's gotta be here somewhere." An accented voice called through the curtain of the trees. Lucy watched Flynn's eyes go wide.

"The gang," Lucy whispered. Her attention was brought back to Flynn's hand gripping her arm.

"Let me go, Flynn." She spoke in the bravest voice she could gather. Her body was shaking from head to toe in a mixture of adrenaline and fear.

Flynn was trying to lift himself from the ground using a tree as his anchor, but each time he stood his injured leg buckled underneath him. For the second time, hit the ground hard.

"Flynn." She said sharply. His eyes met hers, and for the first time Lucy could see panic in his eyes.

"Why can't I stand?" He sounded confused, his voice lighter than she'd ever heard it. Lucy's gaze settled on his wound. She had only meant to incapacitate him long enough for her to run away. It dawned on her that she most likely severed a nerve in his thigh; she felt the guilt begin to pull in her stomach.

"We've got a scent!" The voices in the trees called. The dogs responded with a growl.

She was scanning the tree line when she felt Flynn's grip on her arm turn feather light, slipping away gently. When she turned back to him, his face had gone pale.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. She had seen so much death in this job; so much suffering and sadness. Yet her conscience remained clear, for she could always reason with herself that she hadn't been the one to cause it-not directly. If she were to do this, allow Flynn to bleed out or be taken by the gang, it will be her fault. Lucy closed her eyes, cursing under her breath.

"Will they kill you?" She asked. She opened her eyes to look at Flynn. He said nothing.

"Goddamnit Flynn, if they catch you will they kill you?"

He wasn't ready for her to raise her voice, he just barely nodded his head.

"If I'm lucky." His voice was quiet, practically a whisper. Lucy swore again. Before she could second guess herself, before she could think twice about all of this being a ruse to keep her from escaping, she reached down. Flynn nearly flinched at her movement, but grasped her forearms when she gripped his. Using all of her body weight, she pulled him to a standing position.

"I can't do much," she said between strained breaths, balancing him between the tree and her own body. He grunted, his arm around her shoulder shaking with effort.

"It's enough."