A/N: Thank you, fritzen and Danielle, for your comments! I hope you had a good holiday! Thank you again for your support - it means a lot!
Here's the next chapter! Enjoy! Stay safe!
The next morning, Wyatt slipped out of the room he shared with Lucy while she slept. He walked with purpose as he headed for the kitchen. There were dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He spent most of the night tossing and turning as his mind raced with questions and self-doubt, preventing him from sleeping.
He figured out what had been plaguing his mind pretty quickly. It was a combination of sleep deprivation, the fact he lacked faith and trust in any of their future selves, his distrust of Rowan and Quinn, and now, he was being told he would join the enemy and try to kill the woman he loved, and essentially their future child. That was a lot to shoulder alone.
Wyatt knew he reacted harshly when they informed him about Jessica. He carried the weight of the blame for her death before and frankly, he never got over that. It was an open wound that continued to get licked, despite his best efforts to let it be and heal with time. Even after hearing about how Rittenhouse trained her to be a sleeper, made him feel used and abused by them - by Jessica. To think he had been sleeping with the enemy before they faked her death - and how hard he fought to find her to bring her back - made him look silly.
It pained him to think that whatever occurred in that version of himself's past that drove him to feel betrayed by those he considered friends and family, told him he needed to make the concerted effort to prevent that future from coming to fruition in whatever means necessary. He wasn't sure how to do that but he had a pretty good idea where to start - and it would require french toast.
Wyatt turned into the kitchen and froze in the doorway. Inside, a couple of women were already hard at work preparing breakfast for the rest of the full bunker. Their eyes lifted to see him as he entered, stunned to see he was awake this early.
"Oh, uh….Hi?" he muttered, blinking at them in surprise.
They exchanged glances before turning back to Wyatt. "Can we help you?"
He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I was going to make some french toast for...it doesn't…" He was about to bail out on the idea, inching his way out of the room.
"I can make them for you," the one girl chimed in. "Do you want whipped cream and strawberries too?"
Wyatt's lips curled into a smile, knowing Lucy would love it. "That would be perfect."
"I'll bring them out to you," she said with a nod. "If you want to wait out there," she pointed to the coffee canisters on the bar window, "coffee is fresh."
"Thank you," he said, turning to grab a cup. He was feeling grateful for the help in making the food. He usually burnt them. Cooking wasn't his forte; thank God for MREs. He turned to the coffee canisters, filling two cups of coffee and bringing them over to a small table. He sat down to wait, drinking the fresh hot coffee - which apart from Flynn's coffee, this was amazing to drink.
As Wyatt sat at the table with his coffee, his blue eyes lifted to see Rowan and Quinn entering with an elderly woman who seemed to be struggling to walk. Wyatt watched as they made their way over to the table. He chuckled softly to himself. He never would have pegged either one of them to be the sort to help an old lady.
He watched as Quinn left them to head to the kitchen, stopping at the bar for coffee and speaking to those inside. Wyatt's eyes darted back to Rowan and the old woman. Rowan helped her across the room, pulling out a seat at another table to allow her to sit. Rowan leaned over to speak softly to her, patting her hand gently just as Quinn returned with the coffee.
Quinn set the mug onto the table before the woman. He lifted his gaze to Rowan, speaking once more before leaving the room, back in the direction they came from rather briskly. Rowan sat down briefly, making sure the woman was going to be okay. Wyatt watched as the woman seemed to be reassuring Rowan before he stood from the table to follow his brother.
Wyatt's brows drew together as he watched the odd exchange. He contemplated standing up and approaching the woman when a tray of food suddenly appeared on the table before him, causing his gaze to avert.
The food looked delicious. The french toast had a beautiful golden crust on it, the whipped cream looked fresh as it slowly melted from the fluffy pillow on top, dripping to create a pool around the french toast. A small drizzle of maple syrup created crystals of sugar to reflect the lights overhead. The fresh-cut strawberries were pops of pink and red across the plate.
He lifted his gaze to the woman who made it. "Thank you," he sighed. "This is perfection!"
The girl smiled proudly at him before retreating back into the kitchen. Wyatt stood from the chair, setting the coffee mugs onto the full tray. He carried it across the room toward the hallway that would lead him back to Lucy. As he passed the old woman, he glanced at her. She didn't look familiar to him and he wanted to know why Rowan and Quinn were so interested in her.
Wyatt shook the nagging questions and curiosities away as he navigated down the hall to his room, knowing that at the current moment, there was a more important matter on hand to deal with. When he reached his room, he readjusted the tray in his arms so he could open the door. Pushing the door open, he stood face to face with Lucy, who was fully awake and changed for the day. They blinked at one another with mutual shock.
Seeing his full arms, Lucy grabbed the door, allowing Wyatt to come inside. Once he crossed the threshold, she closed the door behind him. "What's all this?" she asked, turning to face him, eyes dropping to the food tray.
He set the tray down on the table next to the wall. "I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed but it looks like I'm too late for that."
Lucy saw the look of disappointment on his face. She could smell the delicious sweet food filling the room. "Just because I'm awake doesn't mean we can't still have breakfast in our room…" she neared him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Thank you for this."
The two sat down at the small table. Lucy looked at the food and smiled. "French toast?"
"It's your favorite, isn't it?" he asked, his voice showing his panic that he might have gotten it wrong.
She smiled wide at him. "I love this…"
He visibly relaxed, smiling back at her. "I hope it's delicious."
"Do you want some?"
His eyes darted to the plate before lifting to meet her gaze. He shook his head. "This is for you."
"Doesn't mean we can't share."
"It does look good," he admitted with a laugh. She passed him the fork loaded up with the food. He took a bite and moaned. "Oh man...that's amazing."
Lucy took the fork from him, a smile spreading against her lips as she loaded up the fork for her bite. The sweet foods danced across her tongue, followed by the bright bursts of the strawberries. Her eyes rolled closed, humming in pleasure. She swallowed, opening her eyes to look at him. "This is divine, Wyatt...thank you."
The two continued to work together to devour the plate of food. Once it was gone, they sat there with their coffee. Lucy licked her lips, still tasting the sweet treat on them. "So, what was this all about?"
He inhaled deeply. "I wanted to apologize."
She blinked at him. "Apologize?"
He nodded. "I've been an ass lately and I know there's no amount of apologizing I can do to correct it-"
"Never underestimate the power of an apology," she told him, bringing the mug back to her lips.
He shook his head. "No...not this time." He held her gaze as he continued, "I don't like who I'm becoming...who I'm going to become-" Lucy opened her mouth to retort when he held his hand up slightly. "Let me finish," he requested, his voice calm and gentle. She nodded, setting the mug down to listen to him with all of her attention. He cleared his throat as he continued, "There's no excuse. None. Yes, a lot has happened since all of this began but...I could have handled myself better. I should learn to control my temper and realize that not everything is a personal attack against me."
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. He lifted his gaze to hers again. "I know it was my fault Tenley disappeared, to begin with. I know I was stupid and selfish when I was focused on my needs and my past that I ignored yours. And saying 'I'm sorry' doesn't seem like enough...and even now, after having been told that a future version of me tried to kill you…" he blew a sharp shaky breath out, tears forming behind his blue eyes, "I don't want that future to happen. I don't want any harm to come to you...I love you, Lucy. I think I always have...and I've been risking losing you and everything I want for us…" He held her gaze before asking, "I've been so focused on what I want...but I've lost sight of what you want." He paused, staring deep into her eyes. "What do you want, Lucy?"
Lucy felt the tears welling behind her eyes as she stared at Wyatt in stunned appreciation. She could see the hurt behind his expression - that blame he shouldered for what his future self had done - not to mention the past version of himself. She could see it all and realized how much pressure he had been under lately.
"I want you, Wyatt," she whispered, reaching across to grasp his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I've always loved you and still do...I know we can change the future together as long as we work together as a team."
Wyatt's tears finally cascaded down his cheeks, feeling the waves of relief washing over him. He closed his hand over hers, gently squeezing it. "I'm so sorry-"
"I know," she told him, "but you need to let the pain go...let the past and the future go...nothing else matters."
"I don't deserve you," he muttered, choking back his sobs.
"You do," she whispered. "And if you think you don't, then work for it."
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. She smiled warmly at him, coaxing a smile from him. "I love you…"
"I love you, too."
Down the hall, Flynn felt Tenley shifting under his arm. His eyes opened and focused on her. She rolled onto her back, gazing up at him. She smiled softly at him, her voice barely a whisper, "You stayed…"
He smiled back. "Of course," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "No place I'd rather be."
"I'm happy I'm still here," she confessed.
He saw the sadness creeping up on her expression. He didn't want her to focus on that so he leaned over and pressed a kiss on her lips. "I'm happy you're here, too," he told her. "And if you disappeared, I'd find a way to bring you back again."
She blinked some tears away. She inhaled deeply, stretching. "I need to shower," she groaned.
He propped himself up onto his elbows and watched as she stood up from the bed. "Would you like me to bring you back some breakfast?"
She poked her head out of the bathroom. "Please!"
He nodded, throwing his long legs over the side of the bed. He padded across the room, stopping before her in the doorway of the bathroom. He kissed her on the lips again. "I'll be back shortly."
She smiled against his lips. "If you aren't, I'll have to hunt you down."
He laughed, pulling back. "You'd hunt me down?"
She nodded, her smile widening. "You'd have my coffee," she told him, her tone clearly amused, "so yes, I'd hunt you down."
"Duly noted," he replied with a chuckle. "I'll be back or I'll see you again in a little bit." She nodded as she ducked back into the bathroom. He turned and exited her room.
Flynn walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. He could already smell the bacon and pancakes cooking as he continued across the main room toward the kitchen.
Sitting on the bar window, he spotted a couple of prepared pots of coffee with clean mugs for the taking. He grabbed a couple of empty mugs, filling them with the fresh hot brew.
Turning around, Flynn's eyes landed on the frame of an elderly woman, probably in her late seventies, sitting alone at the large table. He watched her for a moment as she lifted her coffee mug to her lips with unsteady hands, only to set it back down, a sad expression washing over her face.
He glanced down at the mugs in his hands and decided to approach her. He stood a couple of feet away from her as he asked, "Would you like some fresh coffee?"
She glanced over her shoulder to look at him. Her face was worn and wrinkled, her hair mostly white with streaks of a faded dark auburn underneath. Her blue eyes widened at him. "Oh," she sighed. "Thank ye, dear...I'd love some more…"
Flynn's brows twitched at her accent as he set the mug down on the table before her, turning the handle for her to grab. She motioned to the chair beside her for him to join her. He sat, smiling politely at her.
"Thank ye," she said, wrapping her frail hands around the cup, almost for warmth. "I had been dreading the walk over for more."
"I'm happy to help," he told her with a smile. "Is there anything else I could get for you?"
She turned her eyes over to him, smiling warmly. "No, thank ye, dear," she said, patting his hand with hers. "I should be thanking ye for allowing us to come here earlier than expected."
"You knew you would be coming here?" Flynn asked.
She squeezed his hands, a sad smile on her face. "Ye and I both know I would not have lived long enough to be here if they had waited."
Flynn watched her closely as she drank from her coffee mug. Something about her was familiar. He struggled to piece together why. He smiled at her as her eyes darted over to meet his gaze. She offered a small smile in return as she lowered the mug with her shaky hands.
The smile faded from his lips as he saw familiarity staring back at him. He licked his lips as he tried to calm his nerves. He braved his question. "Where have you been this whole time, Charlotte?"
Charlotte blinked at him. A soft small chuckle escaped her lips as she played with the mug handle. "I was wondering how long it would take ye to figure it out." She lifted her eyes to stare into his. "I had a feeling it would be ye to do it, too."
"Have they hurt you?" he asked, his voice dropping low as he leaned forward.
She tilted her head at him. "Who, dear?"
"Rowan and Quinn," he answered. He lifted his eyes, scanning the area in hopes that neither one of them was nearby.
She laughed heartily. She patted his hands as if he had just said the funniest joke. "They are not yer enemy, dear." She chuckled again, wiping the small tears of amusement from her wrinkled face. "But yer sweet to worry about little ol' me."
His expression remained serious as he asked again, "What happened to you?"
She smiled warmly at him, patting his hands once more. "We were saved," she told him, pulling her hands from his. "That is all that is important." He opened his mouth to retort when she added, "I believe there is a young lady waiting for ye."
His brow furrowed as he glanced over his shoulder to see Tenley watching them with curiosity on her expression as she got her coffee. He turned back to Charlotte. "I hope to see you again."
"I am sure that we shall," she told him. She motioned to her mug. "Thank ye again for the coffee."
He smiled at her before crossing the room toward Tenley. Tenley's eyes remained on the elderly woman at the table. "Everything okay?"
He nodded, glancing back over his shoulder. "I think so."
"Who is she?"
"Someone we met in 1588." The two exchanged glances. He shrugged. "I think these people are the same ones from Roanoke."
"The colonists who disappeared?" she asked.
He nodded, glancing back to Charlotte. "I think they've been moved from Roanoke to some other place," he admitted, "and wherever they've been this whole time was compromised... " He turned back to Tenley. "Quinn and Rowan brought them here to save them from something."
"But from what?" she asked, "or who?"
"That's what I haven't figured out yet," Flynn said. "But I have every intention of figuring that out."
