Those Who Still Love
A/N #1: My apologies to those readers who are waiting patiently on new chapters of Yellow Rose of Texas and First Steps, but the idea for this new one-shot story got a hold of me and just wouldn't let go. Big shout out to Twitter friends Major Sam, Christy and Caroline for the inspiration-you guys are the best :)
January 2019
"Love comes to those who still hope after disappointment...still believe after betrayal...and still love after they've been hurt..." - Unknown
Wispy streams of moonlight filtered softly through the drapes of the spacious second-story bedroom. A little past midnight, it had been exactly one crazy, busy week since he and Lucy moved into their first home together, and a thoroughly relaxed Wyatt was on the verge of falling asleep when the woman nestled against his chest began to stir restlessly. Kissing the top of her head, he tightened his arms more securely around her and murmured soothingly, "Shh, you're okay...I'm right here, sweetheart."
Tenderly stroking her slender back as she gradually quieted without waking, he frowned thoughtfully. This was at least the third, maybe fourth night in a row (that he was aware of) Lucy had slept poorly, something she vehemently denied when Wyatt finally got a clue and cautiously mentioned it at breakfast-despite the persistent telltale shadows lingering under her expressive dark amber eyes the past few days. He winced at the all-too-familiar pang of guilt flooding his heart when it came to Lucy's well being. Dammit. He should've been paying closer attention, especially considering how hard the two of them had been working to get settled in their beautiful new home.
Because the days since the team departed the bunker for the last time on Christmas afternoon and moved into a very nice hotel (courtesy of Uncle Sam, according to Agent Christopher) had been predictably hectic-apparently returning from the dead and joining the real world turned out to be a much bigger adjustment than any of them anticipated-at first a distracted Wyatt assumed the woman he loved was merely stressed out. Aside from dealing with all kinds of boring paperwork full of long, official-sounding words involved with legalizing the team's return, most of their time had been spent house hunting, since by an unspoken agreement, both he and Lucy knew they'd never live apart again.
Wyatt had come dangerously close to losing the woman he wanted to marry and share the rest of his life with on far too many occasions during their time traveling days to risk it ever again. Hell, no. For better or worse, however long it might be, he was determined they were going to spend the rest of their lives together...as soon as he picked out a ring and made it official...
After checking out nearly a dozen houses in the San Francisco area that for one reason or another just weren't what the couple was looking for, they'd decided to venture a little farther afield. Fortunately, on the fourth day, they lucked into a reasonably-priced, vacant two-story place with a lot of possibilities in a quiet neighborhood south of the bay located in Belmont.
After the requisite house tour, the friendly-but thankfully, not super pushy—realtor excused herself to take a call. They were standing on the modest deck overlooking the good-sized back yard when Lucy suddenly squeezed Wyatt's hand, soft brown eyes glowing, her cheeks flushed in excitement. Before she could even get the words out, he laughed and said, "Yes," grunting in surprise when she threw her slim arms around his neck and held on for dear life, whispering her fervent appreciation...and maybe a naughty promise or two for when they were alone back at the hotel...
To the couple's relief, the highly-motivated seller accepted their offer within 48 hours, and after closing on the house a week later, they began the process of moving in. As a matter of protocol, since he and the others had been declared legally dead while hiding out in the bunker, Wyatt's meager possessions from the tiny apartment the Army rented for him when he was assigned to the mission at Mason Industries were already boxed up and sitting in a Homeland Security storage facility–easily retrieved in a short amount of time.
On the other hand, because Lucy had given up her small apartment near Stanford and moved back into her mother's home along with Amy after the original time line Carol Preston was stricken with lung cancer, all of her belongings were still stored in the home in Palo Alto that she and her sister grew up in...
The house Lucy inherited after the Rittenhouse version of her mother was murdered in 1888 by Emma Whitmore...
The house where she'd been violently attacked and abducted from to take her 'rightful place' in the Rittenhouse hierarchy...
Worried–and rightfully so, in his opinion–that even setting foot inside the 'scene of the crime' (so to speak) would be too emotionally rough on Lucy after everything she'd endured there, the second they were handed the keys to their new house, Wyatt had immediately offered to hire someone to clear out her childhood home so it could be sold. Of course, his stubborn little historian had dug her heels in and bravely declared she was fine-would be fine-so there was no need to waste their money on something silly like that when they had a new place of their own to furnish.
They'd actually argued about it for the better part of a day until Wyatt—perpetually hard pressed to deny Lucy anything-–brushed aside his misgivings and reluctantly gave in, though in an effort to salve his masculine pride, he made it crystal clear his agreement was for this one visit only. He pretended not to see the cute little smirk she didn't even try to hide at his unenthusiastic acquiescence.
While it certainly wasn't a walk in the park, true to her word, at first Lucy seemed to cope fairly well with their one and only visit to the Preston residence five days ago. Aside from gripping Wyatt's hand rather tightly after unlocking the front door and stepping into the wide entryway he remembered from his one and only (middle of the night) visit here, over the next hour or so, she'd stoically led him through each room of the elegantly-furnished home before they ended up in her bedroom at the end of the upstairs hallway. Nevertheless, he discreetly kept a watchful eye on Lucy as she mechanically gathered and boxed up her clothes and a few personal things with Wyatt's help before turning her attention to the rest of the large house.
After neatly stowing the boxes in the back of his truck, he followed Lucy back inside. Wyatt didn't know if it was his concern for Lucy or maybe his distressing awareness of what he feared went down in this place, but it seemed kinda obvious to him as they stood in the middle of the modern, brightly-lit kitchen that in spite of her determination to confront her demons head on, she was not only visibly uneasy in her surroundings, but conflicted as hell. Her practical side–the one that realized many of her mother's expensive possessions could be put to good use-was definitely at odds with the part of her that recoiled from keeping anything belonging to this time line's Carol Preston. As the minutes dragged on, Wyatt's initial doubts gradually, ominously began to creep back.
Resigned up to that point to letting Lucy call the shots, Wyatt belatedly noticed her small hand flexing nervously in his. Glancing at her, he was instantly dismayed by the brutally stark pallor of Lucy's complexion, the fear darkening her eyes, the way she was nervously biting her lower lip nearly raw. Aww, hell. He should have known this was a terrible idea no matter how much she'd protested...
His protective instincts fully engaged, Wyatt drew her to him and murmured quietly but firmly, "We're done here." He grimaced mentally at the unmistakable evidence of Lucy's momentarily fragile mental and emotional state when she offered not a single word of protest, merely trembled in his arms, her face tucked against his neck for a long moment. Hugging her tightly, Wyatt calmly asked Lucy to go outside and wait in his truck while he turned off all the lights and locked up.
All during the silent ride from Palo Alto to their new place, Lucy sat perfectly still, hands clasped tightly together in her lap as she stared absently out the truck window beside her. Pulling into the driveway, Wyatt put the truck in park and turned off the engine, tiredly scrubbing his hands over his face. Dammit. He should never, ever ignore his gut feelings when it came to Lucy. Filled with remorse for allowing himself to be swayed against his better instincts to take her to her mother's house, he started to speak when she suddenly put her hand over his mouth and shook her head.
Gazing into his eyes, Lucy moved her hand to gently cup his cheek. "Don't you dare apologize, Wyatt Logan," she admonished lightly. "I appreciate you're coming from a place of love and concern for me, but honestly, I really was fully aware before we got to my mother's house it wasn't going to be easy. I swear. Unfortunately–and don't let this go to your head, Master Sergeant-you were absolutely right, being in that house again was much more difficult than I expected, but trust me, that is not on you. Now, I don't want to talk about this any more, okay? Let's get this stuff inside and have some dinner." And with that, she unsnapped her seatbelt and climbed out of the truck.
Although her tone was cheerful enough and the words matter of fact, a troubled Wyatt couldn't help but notice the tense set of her delicate jaw, how cold her slim fingers felt on his cheek. Damn, but his Lucy could be like a pit bull with a bone when she set her mind to it, and it seemed as if the subject was closed...for now. Mindful of her request, he didn't bring up the subject again. The next few days flew by as the couple got to work and began turning their new house into a real home.
Eager to finish setting up before Wyatt started his new position working for Agent Christopher at the San Francisco Homeland Security office, they threw themselves into the task. Each day was filled with painting and a bit of wallpapering, unpacking boxes and moving furniture around until the rooms were laid out just the way they wanted. Each night, they fell into bed, worn out but happy and contented. At least that's what Wyatt assumed...
"The saddest thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies..." - Anonymous
Mentally berating himself for overlooking the little signs that something was bothering Lucy and swearing to himself to do a better job looking after her–whether she liked it or not-it took a while for him to calm down enough to sleep. Wyatt was startled when, just as he was drifting off, her husky voice abruptly broke the peaceful silence.
"You'll never know how badly I wanted to confide in you that day in the bunker before the jump to 1955 when you asked me about my time as a Rittenhouse captive..." Her small hand trembled slightly as Lucy began to ever so gently caress Wyatt's bare chest. Completely caught off guard, his eyes snapped open in the shadowy darkness.
What the? Was she? Could Lucy finally be ready to talk about her experiences during their six weeks apart? He was no shrink, but couldn't help wondering if it was possible her return to that damn house must've been some kind of trigger for her? Scarcely daring to breathe for fear of interrupting, Wyatt forced his tense body to relax-even as his arms involuntarily tightened protectively around her slight frame. He wasn't brainy and intuitive like Lucy (and definitely not a fan of therapy), but nevertheless, sensed unburdening herself–at least to him-might be an important step in her healing process. It was going to hurt like hell, but the poison weighing down Lucy's heart and soul had to be excised. The very least Wyatt could do was be there for her in any way she needed.
Lucy Preston was the strongest person he'd ever known, and deserved nothing less than his full support to help her work through the unimaginable ordeal of being taken against her will by her own mother and subjected to God only knew what kind of terrible things. Despite suffering through a traumatic, possibly life-changing experience, the amazing woman he loved with every fiber of his being had come out the other side-and Wyatt was just so damn proud of her. He'd gone through some pretty rough mental and physical stuff himself during a few Delta Force missions in Syria and Afghanistan, so he could probably relate on some level, but Lucy's resilience and emotional courage in the face of such pain truly humbled him.
When Wyatt sweetly kissed the top of her head yet remained silent, Lucy sighed pensively, her soft breath warming his skin before she cleared her throat and began to speak in a low voice. "Before I get started, I want you to know that even though I brushed off your earlier invitation to talk, it meant everything to me, Wyatt, that you clearly wanted to help, that you even asked, because you're the guy who knows exactly what it's like to experience the unthinkable and then try to somehow live with it. So, yes, while the part of me that fell in love with you long ago wanted quite desperately to unburden my soul in the comfort and security of your strong arms, a much bigger part of me was terrified if I spoke of those six weeks at all...I would shatter into a million pieces and never be right again..."
He swallowed hard against the fierce emotion rising in him when Lucy's voice trailed off. "Take your time, Lucy, because I promise you we've got the rest of our lives," Wyatt coaxed hoarsely, rubbing her back soothingly. He started to reach over and turn on the lamp beside the bed but stopped when Lucy haltingly admitted she felt braver in the near darkness.
She shuddered once in his arms before responding, "It's precisely because we will be together for the rest of our lives that I need to get rid of this awful weight on my soul so we can start our future with none of this hanging over me, okay?" Her lips curved slightly at his resigned sigh.
"Wyatt, the moments we spent together before I left for my mother's were the happiest I'd experienced since learning time travel was real and losing my sister. And it wasn't just the idea of me, you and Rufus trying to bring Amy back, either. The knowledge that the man I loved was open to 'possibilities' with me filled my heart with such joy and hope for the future...and eventually gave me great solace during the early days I was gone," Lucy confided, pressing herself even closer to him. The poignant little confession, uttered in a tremulous whisper, came close to breaking Wyatt's heart.
"Walking into my mother's house, knowing what I thought was about to happen, my stomach felt like it was all tied in these giant knots. This would be one of the toughest things I've ever had to do–which in itself was remarkable considering I'd been traveling through time for nearly a year. I let myself in and found Mom in the kitchen. At first, she seemed really glad to see me, hugging me firmly and telling me she was relieved I was alright, and I could feel the guilt starting to grow. But then I deliberately made myself think about not only Amy, but my dad, Henry, too, and steeled myself against those feelings."
"Oddly enough, my first clue something was not quite right was the coolly impassive way Mom was acting as I stumbled awkwardly through a frantic explanation about time travel and alternate time lines and her other daughter named Amy until finally, it was hard to speak because I was starting to cry. In my distress, I threw my arms around Mom's neck and hoped with all my heart she could forgive me...and that's when Carol Preston completely upended my world." Wyatt winced faintly at the flat, emotionless tone of Lucy's voice but remained quiet. Whatever it took for her to get through this.
"In a weirdly serene voice, she promised me I would never lose her...because Rittenhouse would never allow it. I literally froze in disbelief for a second. 'What? What did you say?' I whispered, slowly backing away from her. And then every bit of pretense fell away from the face I'd known from my earliest memory, and I saw for the first time the real Carol Preston who apparently existed in this time line ever since we returned from that first jump to 1937–and it was like looking at a total stranger. The woman in front of me was cold, haughty, even, and filled with the righteousness of her beliefs. She was most definitely not my mother-the woman who raised me."
Lucy paused long enough to take a couple of fortifying breaths. "Then she took advantage of my tremendous shock and hurriedly began talking about my 'father,' the infamous Ben Cahill, and strong Rittenhouse families and how she was so proud of me...how everyone was so proud of me and that I had an incredible future. Honestly, my brain felt numb by this point, and I was having trouble concentrating. Her final gut punch before everything went to hell was informing me Rittenhouse had an operative aboard the mother ship–which we now know was our old friend, Emma–and that soon they would control everything, the past, the present, and the future, and together she and I would change history..."
Lucy's strained voice broke under the weight of her devastation as she struggled to control her overwhelming emotions. Despite his vow to remain calm and let her get it all out, Wyatt could feel his anger rising at the late Carol Preston for what she'd done to her own child–although unfortunately, he feared Lucy was just getting started...
Clearing his throat gruffly, Wyatt murmured, "Easy, sweetheart. You're safe here with me. You don't have to keep going..."
Lifting her head from his chest, Lucy shook it vehemently, raven curls tumbling around her pale face. "Yes, I do, because I love you and we are building a life together...and after I've told you everything, it will be done, buried in the past...and we will never speak of this again."
Searching her face intently in the dim light, Wyatt saw maybe a little fear, but more than that, a formidable strength and fierce determination to move past the wrongs committed against her. Cupping her soft cheek, he nodded solemnly, steeling himself to hear all of it, every terrible detail. If Lucy was strong enough to live through it, then he had to be strong enough to listen...
And it was every bit as appalling as Wyatt had feared, starting with Lucy being physically attacked when she tried to leave her mother's house by none other than her ex-fiancé (and as he previously suspected, Rittenhouse stooge), Noah. Lucy actually rolled her eyes at the low growl Wyatt couldn't contain at the idea of that smug asshat putting his hands on the woman he loved. If that bastard was still alive, Wyatt would be sure and make it a priority to find the doctor and bring him to justice...
"While I secretly might've hoped for a while your clear antagonism towards Noah was coming solely from a place of jealousy, in reality, as usual, your instinct not to trust the good doctor was spot on, soldier," she observed dryly, staring into his eyes and offering him an affectionate smile when Wyatt muttered, damn straight, under his breath. Lucy's smile didn't last long, however, once she resumed.
Apparently, in her zeal to 'win' her daughter over to the Rittenhouse cause, once Lucy was her captive, Carol Preston and her goons had tried a good many tricks straight out of the Brainwashing for Bad Guys 101 play book, with tried-and-true gems like...
Isolation for days at a time, including frightening, interminable spells here and there of time spent in a tiny, dark, window-less room when Carol was particularly displeased with her stubborn (claustrophobic) daughter...
Repeated, sustained attacks on Lucy's intelligence and self esteem in an effort to break her will...
Occasional harassment from a disgruntled Noah that ironically made Lucy glad she was locked in her room most of the time...
Thankfully for Lucy's well being (and his sanity), there was no further physical abuse, probably because Lucy's courage and intelligence were her strongest assets. That ugly piece of information, though, about Noah trying more than once to molest her was nearly the straw that broke the camel's back for Wyatt. His temper already chafing mightily at being held back, he'd listened in increasingly tense silence, trying his damnest to get the two of them through this, but the mere thought of that son of a bitch even touching Lucy (permission or not) was akin to pouring kerosene on a fire. A cold, murderous rage filled Wyatt, who was completely unaware he was shaking, hands clenched in tight fists until she laid her hands over his and forced him to look at her.
"Almost done, I promise," Lucy murmured sympathetically, leaning close to kiss him. Gradually, Wyatt's intense anger began to recede at her soothing touch, only to be replaced by profound sadness when she described the day her mother made sure Lucy learned about the explosion at Mason Industries by casually (maliciously) showing her an article in the newspaper...
"Early in my captivity, when I was trying my best to cope with this scary new reality I'd been thrust into, I clung to the certainty you would eventually figure out where I was and come to take me home. I knew without a single doubt, Wyatt, you and the rest of team would never give up on me, and it was this knowledge that comforted and sustained me over the first few terrible days. Somehow, though, my mother found out our relationship had grown beyond that of friends and teammates, and it absolutely infuriated her that I'd fallen in love with you. No offense, my love, but you just don't have the background or bloodlines to be considered suitable husband material for the Rittenhouse heir," Lucy teased, her quick grin lightening Wyatt's heart for an all-too-brief moment.
"Anyway, brilliant as she is, it didn't take Carol long to decide to remove you and the others from the equation by planting the bomb at Mason. I'm sure she considered it a win/win for Rittenhouse. Not only would the explosion hopefully destroy the only other time machine in existence, but killing you would take away my last hope of being saved...and oh, God, she was so right about that..."
Without warning, Lucy's face crumpled in anguish. Hastily pulling her into his arms, Wyatt held on tightly as she sobbed, scarcely feeling her hot tears on his bare skin. If anyone deserved a good, long cry, it surely had to be this brave, smart, incredible woman. She was quiet for so long, save for the occasional hiccup, he thought perhaps Lucy had fallen asleep, until she moved suddenly in his arms, absently swiping at her wet cheeks.
"I'm okay...and I want to finish," she assured him in a shaky voice. Thankfully, once Carol was convinced that the presumed deaths of Wyatt and the others in the explosion at Mason had finally broken her daughter's obstinate spirit, Lucy's situation actually improved. No more brainwashing, and she was allowed to attend important Rittenhouse strategy sessions–much to the dismay of both Emma and Noah. It was then that Lucy came up with the plan to take down Rittenhouse by destroying the mother ship the first chance she got...even if it meant her death.
"After all, like I told you on the day you and Rufus brought me to the bunker, as far as I knew, I was the last one standing," she shrugged, and this time, it was Wyatt whose eyes began to fill. Dear God, the suffering Lucy had endured at the hands of her mother to get to that state of mind. Much as it pained him, though, he sincerely could not fault her plans to sacrifice herself one bit because it was something Wyatt could see himself doing, too, under the circumstances.
"And because you never once gave up on me, and also because Rufus, Jiya and Connor are certified geniuses and fixed the lifeboat in time to find me in 1918 France, you pretty much know the rest of the story. I will remember for the rest of my days that you saved me, Wyatt, in every way a man can save a women–emotionally, mentally, physically–and I love you even more for it." And with one last sweet, lingering kiss (and a big yawn), an obviously exhausted Lucy rolled on her side, pulling his arm snugly around her waist and quickly fell asleep with her back against Wyatt's front, her heart and soul hopefully beginning to heal at last...at least, he fervently hoped so...
"Recovery begins with embracing our pain...and taking the risk to share it with others." - John Bradshaw
A/N #2: Well, this story kind of got away from me...guess I got all caught up in what it might've been like when Lucy finally shared everything that happened to her during those six weeks they were apart with Wyatt–because I firmly believe it was something she would do, probably before they were even engaged. Actually, as much as I always enjoy writing Wyatt, I'm thinking seriously about doing a sequel to this story some time from Lucy's POV because at times, I was finding it hard in this instance to keep strictly to his POV ;) As always, my sincere gratitude to everyone who continues to read Timeless fanfiction, especially those of you kind enough to leave a review–it's much appreciated! :))