A/N: Thank you frtaylor771 for your review and for reading this story! It means a lot to me. I hope you enjoy the rest.
1854
"What is that smell?" Rufus complained as the team walked down the cobblestone streets of Westminster.
Lucy's eyes scanned the buildings that lined the uneven street. They were the same old brownstone buildings that towered over them, some with shutters that were barely hanging onto the windows. Clotheslines extended from one high window on one side to the other, crossing over the street, old clothes pinned to them. Lucy felt that not much had changed from 1854 and when they came in 1888.
"That smell is most likely the sewers," Lucy explained. "Cholera was a major plague for much of London during this time. It killed well over 10,000 people."
"How worried should I be about catching this?" Rufus asked nose crinkled still from the smell.
"Don't drink the water," Flynn mentioned.
Lucy said, "Given the time, this is probably the beginning of the outbreak. There were reports of it hitting the Soho district on August 31st. It killed 127 people within the first three days of September."
"And we're here on the 1st," Rufus muttered. "Lovely."
"So, what would Rittenhouse gain from this?" Wyatt questioned. "Wouldn't a worldwide plague be catastrophic for everyone?"
Lucy cocked her head slightly. "It's hard to say."
Wyatt grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Let's think about this for a moment. Who would be the biggest targets for Rittenhouse?"
Lucy's lips twitched as she thought it over. "Well, Queen Victoria is the reigning monarch right now..."
"Is Rittenhouse stupid enough to take out the Queen?" Rufus asked, covering his nose with his elbow.
Lucy sighed as she glanced about the square. People were already coughing and sickly. She watched as people were carrying buckets over to the water pump in the middle of the square.
"We better keep moving," Flynn suggested. "Maybe someone will catch our eye."
As they continued to walk by, Lucy watched as the line for the pump grew. She could tell that the outbreak had already started its vengeance on these people.
The team walked into the next neighborhood. The air was cleaner and less offensive to their noses. Rufus inhaled deeply. "I had almost forgotten how nice clean air is!"
The atmosphere where they were standing was cleaner. Even the streets were cleaner compared to the district they had just come from. The residents were healthier than those they'd seen. They walked briskly toward the church up the road.
"Where's everyone going?" Rufus asked. "It's not Sunday, is it?"
"Only one way to find out," Wyatt said, motioning with his hand for them to follow. "Come on."
As the team approached the church, they saw signs plastered on the doors and fences. Lucy pointed to one, reading it. "Looks like they're meeting to discuss the reasons for why people are getting sick."
"Shall we?" Flynn asked, extending his hand out so they could walk before him.
Rufus blinked at him. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he remarked. "What if Rittenhouse is in there?"
"That's a good reason to be in there, don't you think?" Flynn retorted. "If they are in there, it would help us understand the reasons why."
Rufus groaned. "I hate my job."
The team shuffled up the steps of the church, following the residents inside. Slipping into the back row, they listened as two men stood at the front, almost debating what the causes of this outbreak were.
"I believe that this is caused by the foul air!" one man shouted, turning to address the crowd. "This disease is airborne!" The man wore a freshly laundered and pressed three-piece suit. He seemed almost too clean for the area.
"I disagree!" the second man shouted. "It is more likely due to the filthiness of the water! I am in the process of determining how many people use the water pumps-" This man's suit looked as though he had slept in it for days. He was balding on the top of his head, neatly groomed mutton chops on the side of his jaws. His eyes were intense as he stared back at the first man.
"It is no wonder you haven't stopped it from getting worse!" the first man shouted. "You've been studying water pumps instead of the disease!" The man turned to address the gathered crowd. "Instead of looking at the water, you should be helping the people who are sick and dying!"
The crowds murmured in agreement. The second man shook his head and stated, "Mr. Farr, you and I have disagreed on the cause of this outbreak since the beginning but I beg you to help me research the matter thoroughly!"
Lucy leaned over and whispered to the others, "William Farr was a highly accredited epidemiologist...that's why the people seem to be hanging on his every word."
Farr turned to the other man and shouted, "Your theory is preposterous, John! You're suggesting that the sick and dying take the time to boil their water! No one is going to have the time, nor the energy to follow such a ridiculous claim!" He turned to the crowd again and shouted, "If the cure for such a deadly disease is found from boiled water, then I am a fool!" People's hushed giggles echoed in the room.
John pinched the bridge to his nose before saying, "I need an extra pair of hands to study the water sources! If I can isolate the source of contamination, we will better understand how to treat this!"
Flynn scanned the crowd. There were a couple of people who seemed likely to be Rittenhouse agents the way they carried themselves and how clean they seemed to be compared to everyone else. He kept a keen eye on them.
Farr laughed. "No one believes in your silly theory, John! No one wants to risk their lives!"
The priest standing behind them cleared his throat. "I'll help you, John. We will get started with your experiments right away."
Farr laughed. "You are both fools!"
"Then may the best epidemiologist succeed," John said, reaching his hand out. "Let's see who can discover the cause first."
Farr glanced at the outstretched hand but it wasn't until the crowds murmured again, wondering what he would do before he shook John's hand. "Very well. I'll have this figured out soon." They shook hands and Farr put his hat on, tilting it before heading out of the church.
The crowds began to disperse now that the debate had concluded.
Out of the few Flynn kept his eyes locked onto, only one remained behind. Wyatt noticed Flynn's concentration and saw the individual he had been watching.
The man wore a clean blue suit, pressed and laundered. His hat was a barely used bowler's hat. He slouched forward slightly, unlike the pristine postures most in the church seemed to have.
Wyatt and Flynn exchanged glances before moving toward the man who lingered near John and the priest. Wyatt's hand inched closer to where his gun was holstered under his jacket.
Just as the two stepped out of the row of pews and into the aisle, the bowler hat spotted them. He pulled a pistol from his coat and took aim.
"Get down!" Wyatt shouted as he removed his gun, firing at the man.
Two shots were heard. One came from Wyatt and the other from the bowler hat. As the man fell into the pews, blood-smeared the wood as he hung off the back, Wyatt carefully inched his way closer to make sure he was indeed dead.
Flynn's eyes turned to John and the priest. John kneeled on the ground over the priest's body. He rushed forward, squatting down on the other side of the priest. The man had been shot in the chest. Blood rapidly pooled out onto his chest in a puddle.
The man's eyes were wide, staring up at John. His voice cracked and choked on his blood as he tried to speak. Flynn watched as the blood-filled the priest's mouth, running down out of the corners.
Flynn watched the life fade from the man and his breathing stopped. He reached out, feeling for a pulse. His eyes turned toward John. "He's gone."
John blinked back tears, lifting his gaze to meet Flynn's. "Why did this happen? Who are you?"
Flynn stood up. "We just saved your life."
John bolted to his feet, pointing at the body of his friend. "What about him? Why couldn't you save his life?"
Flynn jutted his jaw out before saying, "Maybe it was God's will-"
"Don't you dare make a mockery of this man!" John spat. "Not here, not now!"
Wyatt holstered his gun, stating, "He's dead."
Lucy approached John. "I'm sorry about your friend...We didn't know-"
John ran his hand through his balding hair. "Why would anyone do this? Why now?" He sighed. "Now what I am going to do? He was going to assist me-"
"Perhaps we could assist you instead," Lucy suggested. "Whatever you need-"
He laughed. "What could you possibly do to help?"
"We just saved you," Rufus reminded him, voice stern.
Lucy shot Rufus a cautionary glance. "My name is Lucy," she said. "This is Rufus, Wyatt, and Flynn."
John nodded to each man. "John Snow."
"From the North?" Rufus muttered, eyes sparkling with an inside joke.
John nodded. "I am from York...how did you know?"
Rufus choked back a laugh. "Just a guess."
John's brows furrowed in confusion. Lucy gave a short exhale. "Where should we start, Mr. Snow?"
John Snow had led the team back to the filthy square they passed by earlier. Several feet away, they could see the water pump people had been lining up to use. He pointed to it and said, "I need to get a sample from that pump. I believe that that is the best place to start."
"Why?" Rufus questioned.
"Because the first several deaths originated from houses not too far from this particular pump," John explained. "It is the only common factor, outside of the illness, the victims share thus far."
The team stared at the water pump. When no one attempted to approach the pump, Rufus stated, "Winter is coming, guys..."
Wyatt chuckled. Lucy rolled her eyes and Flynn averted his gaze, trying to ignore the man's antics. John turned his gaze to Rufus. "So it is but I fail to understand what that has to do with the task at hand."
"I just meant..." Rufus started to say. He never got to finish his sentence as John had started across the square toward the pump.
"What if the other guy..." Rufus started, snapping his fingers to think of the name.
"Farr?" Lucy asked.
Rufus nodded. "What if he's right about the illness being airborne?"
Flynn sighed heavily, gritting his teeth. "He's not. It's a water transmitted illness." He followed Snow across the square.
When he reached the man, John looked up at him. "Fetch me a bucket, would you?"
Flynn glanced about the area, eyes settling on an old wooden bucket. He grabbed the handle, bringing it back. John took it from him and filled the bucket halfway. "This should be a good place to start." He stood up and pointed to the ground around the pump. "This can't be helping either."
The ground around the pump was a cesspool. They could see that raw sewage had begun overflowing from nearby houses and running into the cesspit for the pump. It contaminated the water source with fecal matter that had decomposed into the soil.
Flynn asked, "How did it get to this point?"
John grasped the handle to the bucket. "That is what I intend to find out."
John had brought the team back to his modest home. Scientific tools lined his desk. Lucy smiled like a kid as she looked at the old barometer and compass. She looked at the filled graduated cylinders with wonder.
John spotted her gazing at his workstation. "Please be careful," he warned. "Some of those are quite dangerous." Lucy stood up straight, stepping back from the workstation.
John placed the bucket on the floor, scooping out the water with the ladle. He poured it into a cylinder and began to experiment with the water. His eyes never left his work. "Make yourselves at home," he told the team. "This might take some time."
The minutes dragged into hours. Lucy and Rufus had fallen asleep on the puffed couch together, Lucy's head resting on Rufus's shoulder, his head on hers. Wyatt and Flynn kept a keen eye out for any suspicious activities on the street below or even with John.
Flynn watched John work. He was incredibly focused and determined to discover the cause of the outbreak. As he stood there watching the man at work, he found himself smirking slightly. There were resemblances between how this man worked and how Tenley worked. That focused look on his face was just like Tenley's; the way their lips twisted to the side occasionally.
Wyatt cleared his throat, bringing Flynn out of his thoughts. "We might have company here..."
Flynn walked over to the window, pulling the lace curtain aside to glance at the street below. Approaching the house were two men dressed very similarly to the man with the bowler hat from earlier in the day at the church.
Wyatt turned to Flynn. "Should we meet them downstairs?"
Flynn nodded. As they made their way across the room, John looked up from his work. "What's going on?"
"Someone's coming," Wyatt explained. "Stay put."
Before John had a chance to reply, the two slipped out quietly. Carefully, they navigated down the stairwell to the front door, guns drawn and at the ready.
The sound of the door closing behind the two had woken Lucy and Rufus. Rufus glanced about the small room and asked, "Where'd they go?"
"I have visitors," John replied almost naively. "They're going downstairs to welcome them."
Rufus muttered, "You know nothing, John Snow."
Lucy pressed her lips together, suppressing a small guffaw before asking, "How long have you been waiting to say that?"
"Since our introductions," Rufus answered with a proud smile.
