Chapter 4: Aftermath
Tensions in the bunker were high.
The silo remained unnervingly empty as the minutes turned to hours and the home team of Agent Christopher, Jiya and Connor Mason were beginning to get nervous. It wasn't necessarily that the mission had gone beyond what they had come to expect from these operations – hell, some missions over the past two years, had lasted days.
No, it was the mission itself.
The Salem Witch Trials, being as notorious as they were, made them anxious enough, but Garcia Flynn, still bitter over their refusal to officially place him on the team, had spent the last few hours regaling them with such horrifying tales of tortures, brandings and hangings, it made them all wish they could inflict those same kinds of tortures on him so he would, as Mason so eloquently stated, "shut the bloody hell up."
Not deterred in the slightest, Flynn went on to describe, in excruciating detail, the fate of one Giles Corey who, with his wife, was accused of witchcraft. Because he refused to confess, he was crushed over the course of three days in an especially brutal torture method of the day known as peine forte et dure, or pressing. His wife, Martha would be hung three days later…or, as Flynn pointed out - September 22, 1692 – the very day the team had travelled to. "The paranoia was so high in Salem…anyone who was different, anyone who came in with "dangerous ideas" was at risk of being accused." Flynn informed them as he gave a meaningful glance around the room, "Imagine what they would do to a couple of time travelers…one slip up…one word about injustice or how unfair these trials are and" Flynn snapped his fingers dramatically, "they'd be sentenced to hang."
Letting out a collective huff, Mason and Jiya went back to whatever menial task they were attempting to work on in the team's absence. It wasn't that they had an actual task to perform, rather it served to distract them, to help pass the time by keeping them busy…even if it was just rechecking systems for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Agent Christopher, likewise, would knit scarves. Not particularly skilled in that pass time of choice, her handiwork was always something of an inside joke among the bunker inhabitants. Today, however, with the added pressure of Garcia Flynn skulking about and making them all agitated and nervous, her scarf was now a mangled, knotted mess. She was furiously pulling out the stitches on her latest line when she had finally decided she had heard enough.
"One phone call is all I need to make." Agent Christopher blurted out angrily. "One…and you'll be back in prison where you belong." Flynn smirked at her sarcastically as she continued, "Imagine what they'd do to youin there. You want protection? "Flynn gave her a bit of an eye roll as he nodded his head, "Then don't test my patience."
It was amid this uncomfortable setting that the Lifeboat finally materialized, resulting in a combined sigh of relief from those left behind…well, most of them anyway.
It was clearly evident, when the hatch opened and the team stepped out, that this mission had not gone off without a hitch. Wyatt, bloodied and grimacing, was gripping his arm as Lucy, with obvious rope burns on her neck and wrists, helped him down the stairs. While most of the "home" team approached them with concern, Garcia Flynn, ever one to cause trouble, glanced over lazily and called out, "maybe I should have gone along after all."
If he was hoping to get a rise out of Wyatt with that statement, he was not disappointed. After everything they had gone through that night, after nearly losing Lucy, Wyatt was in no mood to deal with Flynn's snark, injury be damned. Clenching his jaw and his fist, he began to march determinedly towards Flynn, who looked as if he would enjoy nothing more than taking a few shots at Wyatt. While there seemed to be no objection from anybody else in the bunker to see Wyatt give Garcia Flynn the ass kicking of a lifetime, Lucy however, pulled Wyatt back gently, glaring at Flynn as she murmured, "He's not worth it, Wyatt. Don't let him get to you."
Glowering, Wyatt stepped away from Flynn as Lucy pull him back to the rest of the gathered team. Flynn, smirking broadly, happy to have gotten under Wyatt's skin, went back to his book.
After quickly inspecting Wyatt's injury, Agent Christopher deemed it necessary for him to receive medical attention. She asked Jiya to call in a medical unit and then asked the team to convene for an immediate debrief.
Realizing that she was going to have to relive the entire ordeal, Lucy let out an involuntary groan as she raised a shaking hand to her forehead in apparent frustration. Wyatt, noticing this, argued with Agent Christopher that their debrief could wait until the morning so that each of them could have a chance to rest and process everything that had happened. He sure as hell didn't want to relive this night just yet, but Lucy…Lucy had the double whammy of near death and betrayal from her very own mother to deal with.
While appreciating Wyatt's concern on her behalf, Lucy didn't want to let any of what had happened fester overnight. She had long since discovered of these missions that no matter how terrible, it was best to just get it all out at once and be done with it, rather than have to think about it and relive it again after a good night's sleep. "It's fine, Wyatt." she muttered miserably, "Let's just get it over with."
"Good call, Lucy." Flynn announced from his chair where he sat still reading his book. "Better to go back over the events right away, while it's still fresh in your mind rather than risk forgetting some vital piece of information." He raised his eyebrows as he turned a page and added, "I'm surprised Wyatt would argue against it…you'd think he know better with his background."
"Does he have to be here?" Wyatt spat out looking behind him towards Flynn. "He's not part of this team, he shouldn't be listening in on the debriefs."
"I am here to offer you intel," Flynn stated matter of factly without looking up from his page. "How can I do my job if I'm not aware of your missions and what happened on them, hmm?"
Agent Christopher sighed and shook her head, "He's right, Wyatt. As much as I hate to use him, he could provide insight to things we may overlook." She looked towards Lucy for support, "He does know more about Rittenhouse than we do…and that, at least, is something."
If there was anyone Wyatt would have preferred not to hear this particular debrief, it was Garcia Flynn. It was bad enough that he was already mocking them for their obvious trouble on the mission, but for him to know that he had been captured by Emma and Carol while Lucy and Rufus were imprisoned? It was just adding insult to injury. Wyatt huffed out a breath and sank down on a stool next to Lucy, shooting daggers at Flynn who continued to read his book with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
Though extremely uncomfortable, the debriefing session was mercifully short. Doing her best to maintain her composure under the circumstances, Lucy answered every question mechanically, relating the facts regarding her imprisonment with little more than a waver in her voice, though she absolutely refused to elaborate on what Rufus dubbed, "that time when Lucy nearly got lynched by a bunch of damn Pilgrims."
Lucy had not planned on sharing her mother's visit to her in prison…in fact, she had completely glossed it over…something that did not escape Wyatt's notice.
He looked at her intently as she averted her eyes from the penetrating stare of Agent Christopher who asked her gently if there was anything else that she needed to add in the mission report.
"No." Lucy muttered softly. "Nothing."
Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Agent Christopher nodded and turned to question Rufus. Wyatt had just leaned over to talk to Lucy quietly about her failure to mention her mother's visit, when Rufus unwittingly spilled the beans…
"…of course, we were worried not knowing where Wyatt was…but since Lucy had that knife…"
"Knife?" Agent Christopher turned back to Lucy, "You didn't say anything in your report about a knife…"
"That was because there was no need to talk about it." Lucy gritted out meaningfully at a contrite Rufus. "I dropped it." Lucy explained, "So it didn't help us anyway."
"Where did you get the knife?" Agent Christopher pressed.
Lucy heaved out a sigh. Rufus had been the only one to know that Carol Preston had visited Lucy in the jail cell…and she had wanted to keep it that way. It had been humiliating enough to have her own mother accuse her and send her to hang, but how much more humiliating would it be to have to divulge all that she had told her in that prison? One look at Wyatt and Lucy could see his mounting guilt. He was the man who had never forgiven himself for the death of his wife, after all, and while Lucy hadn't been seriously hurt in the whole Salem ordeal, she couldn't help but notice the way he flinched during her debriefing session…particularly when she spoke about her short time at the gallows.
She still had no idea what had happened to him, what had prevented him from getting to them sooner, but she was sure that her mother had been behind it. After everything she had accused Wyatt with in that cell…and after her own conversation with Wyatt that morning, Lucy felt that by divulging those things, especially in front of Garcia Flynn, it would only serve to make him feel that guilt all the more…and, she that, she worried, would adversely affect their burgeoning relationship.
Now, more than ever, she wished she had never said anything about Jessica that morning…if anything, but to be able to flatly deny ever feeling that she had reason to doubt that Wyatt would always be there to protect her. Now, after her mother's pointed manipulation, using her very real fears and insecurities against her…against Wyatt…how on Earth could she look him in the eye and assure him that her mother's words had not meant anything, when those were the very things she had expressed concern about earlier that day? It was that worry, more than anything, that had Lucy agonizing over disclosing the whole truth of her mother's visit to her in that cell.
Still, as she looked towards an apologetic Rufus, she knew that there was no going back now that the cat was out of the bag. No matter how awkward and uncomfortable this revelation, she was going to have disclose it. Clenching her eyes shut, Lucy began, "I…"
"I gave it to her." Wyatt interrupted, ignoring the shocked looks from both Lucy and Rufus as he continued, "I slipped it to her before I left the tavern…just in case someone tried to do anything to either of them before I got back."
"I see." Agent Christopher noted as she pursed her lips, her eyes scanning the faces of all three of them, none of them meeting her questioning gaze. If she was doubtful of Wyatt's admittance, she wasn't the only one. Garcia Flynn, watching all of this unfold, chuckled dryly to himself, shaking his head, before returning once more to his book.
"And Wyatt, since you were not detained with the others…what took you so long to come to their aid when the time came for them to be executed?" Agent Christopher asked as she narrowed her eyes.
Wyatt cast a sideways glance at Lucy, grateful for at least the chance to defend his actions…or rather, inactions, the best way he could. He cleared his throat and answered somewhat truthfully, "I ran into a bit of trouble right before they came out of the prison."
"Define trouble." Agent Christopher stated as she sat poised to take his statement.
"Emma, a couple of Rittenhouse goons…" Wyatt said with a frown, before quickly adding, "and Lucy's mother.
Lucy's eyes darted to Wyatt's, her face flushing with the shame of knowing that her mother was indeed behind Wyatt's delayed arrival. Agent Christopher, however, took no notice of Lucy's embarrassment, and instead pressed further, "And is that how you were injured?"
"No," Lucy answered for him. "He was injured because he was protecting me and Rufus." As if to make up for whatever hell her mother had put him through, Lucy added quietly, "Neither of us would be here without him."
Though Lucy's words were barely audible outside the confines of the group, the force of their meaning resonated as if she had shouted it from the rooftops. Agent Christopher smiled proudly as she wrote a few notes, Rufus nodded in fervent agreement, but Wyatt looked as if he had no idea what he had done to earn him such praise.
"Lucy…" he whispered, his face etched in guilt and regret, but at that moment, Jiya approached the huddled group, leading the medical unit towards them. Seeing them, Agent Christopher dismissed Wyatt who left reluctantly, looking back at Lucy with a face filled with inexpressible emotion.
She watched as he disappeared down the hall. She didn't quite understand why he had lied for her, but the gratitude she felt towards him for doing so matched the appreciation she had that he was, despite what her mother had tried to get her to believe, always there to protect her. As thankful as she was for Wyatt's discretion in regards to the truth behind the knife, though, she couldn't help but feel a small amount of apprehension as to the why he had done it. He had admitted that he was detained by her mother and Emma…would it be so implausible to believe that her mother had given him a similar speech to the one she had given her?
With those thoughts and more buzzing around in her mind, Lucy couldn't even concentrate on the rest of the debriefing. If she did chime in to Rufus' narrative, it was because she was prompted to do so and not because she was eager to share any more than she already had. Agent Christopher, noting Lucy's quiet contemplation, finally dismissed her with the explicit instruction that she clean herself up and get some much-needed rest. Hardly needing that prompting, Lucy eagerly made her way to the showers anxious to get out of the 17thcentury garments that only served as a grim reminder to what they had all gone through.
She found a fresh set of pajamas outside of the closed door to her shared bedroom with Wyatt. From the faint noises within, she could discern that the medical team was still attending to Wyatt's injury. Lucy felt another rush of gratitude towards him for remembering her aversion to blood and gore. Clearly, he knew that she would be venturing to the showers after the debrief and not wanting her to see the grim operation within, he had left her a change of clothes.
The shower was warm and welcoming. Lucy was more than ready to wash away the remnants of her time in Salem. Some things, however, she would never be able to wash away. Her mother's betrayal, the fear she felt, the horrible sense of injustice as she sat in that cell full of innocent victims, the phantom feel of the rope around her neck…
The hot water may have been soothing to her tense and aching muscles, but the steady stream of water pelting against her raw and inflamed skin had her wincing in pain. Her hands shook as she gingerly ran her fingers over the rope burn on her neck; the stinging pain from the water doing nothing to help her forget just how close she had come to death.
And suddenly, it was all too much.
Allowing the sound of running water to mask the sound of her tears, she broke down and cried. With gasping breaths, she allowed the dam to burst; all of the hurt, sadness and fears she had felt in the last few hours came tumbling out making her entire body shake with the force of her emotions. She had no idea how long she had stood beneath the spray, shedding the onslaught of tears she had held back for so long, but a knock at the bathroom door had her frantically attempting to pull herself together.
Turning off the water and wrapping herself in a towel, Lucy called through the door that she was just going to be another minute. Quickly drying off and slipping into her pajamas, Lucy checked her reflection, noting with apprehension, that her eyes were red and puffy.
She couldn't let Wyatt see her like this. She wouldn't contribute to his feelings of self-reproach and guilt, not after he had done so much for her. Lying as he did, saving her the mortification of reliving an awkward conversation with her mother, leaving her a change of clothes, saving her life...she knew him well enough to know that if he saw Lucy blubbering about how close she had come to being hung, he would feel all the responsibility for it, even though he had done nothing wrong. Splashing some cool water on her face in the sink, she turned and wrenched open the bathroom door to find, much to her dismay, Wyatt standing on the other side of it.
"Oh." Lucy gasped out in surprise as she took in his appearance. He had obviously already showered. He was standing before her wearing his own freshly laundered loungers, looking and smelling cleaner than he had before he was dismissed from the debriefing session. His arm, which had been wrapped in strips of her dirty and dusty gown, was now freshly bandaged and lying in a sling.
Wyatt looked back at her, his face darkening with emotion as he took in her appearance. Casting his eyes downward he muttered, "They're waiting for you."
Thinking that Agent Christopher had more questions to assault her with, Lucy let out a derisive sigh as she made to move past Wyatt and back down the hall towards the common area.
"No, Lucy…" Wyatt said softly as he gently tugged at her arm, "the medical team…they're waiting for you in…our room."
"Why?" Lucy asked, her face awash in confusion, "Becau..because of this?" she asked as she pointed to her rope burns. "Wyatt, it's fine." she said in an unsteady voice, "Really…it's nothing."
"Lucy…" Wyatt pleaded, "just…just let them check you, okay?"
She could see it…the guilt he was feeling weighing down on him like a millstone. He could barely bring himself to look at her and when he did, shame was written all over his face. She nodded her head as fresh tears threatened to spill out onto her cheeks, "Okay." she whispered as she offered him an understanding smile.
Wyatt stood near the doorway, anxiously watching as the medical team gave Lucy a thorough examination. Checking her vitals, her rope burns, and the turn of her neck they were about to pack up and leave, when Wyatt demanded that they check her ankles because he had noticed she was walking with a slight limp.
"Wyatt…" Lucy moaned, "we just walked about 10 miles in 17thcentury shoes. We're all walking a little funny."
"Lucy, you had a hard drop…just let them check your ankles." Wyatt pleaded.
When the medical announced that there didn't seem to be much wrong with her feet, besides a few blisters, Lucy did her best to control the overwhelming desire to lob an "I told you so" at Wyatt who was still nervously pacing the room watching as the medical team issued Lucy some balm for her rope burns and placed some bandages on her abused feet. Instead, Lucy tried to offer him a reassuring smile as the medical team packed up their things, giving them last minute instructions on how to care for their injuries and finally prescribing a good night's sleep for the both of them. Wyatt, however, was far from reassured. As the team exited the room, he sank down on the bed, resting his head in his hands looking absolutely shaken. Lucy, seeing this, made her way over and sat next to him, asking softly, "Wyatt, are you okay?"
He let out a derisive laugh.
"How's your arm?" Lucy asked after a few moments.
"It's fine." Wyatt grunted out, still holding his head in his hands.
"Well, then…that's good. We're both fine." Lucy muttered awkwardly.
Wyatt slowly lifted his head, staring at her in utter disbelief. 'Lucy…you almost died tonight."
Swallowing back the tears that were fighting their way to the surface once more, Lucy answered softly, "But I didn't, Wyatt…I'm fine. Really."
The remnants of her crying fit must have been painfully obvious to Wyatt. Whatever brave face Lucy was trying to present, didn't fool him one bit, "The hell you are." Wyatt scoffed.
"Really, Wyatt…" Lucy pressed, "…I'm okay, the medical team was just here…there's nothing wrong with me. You heard them."
Wyatt stared back at her, silently communicating to her through his meaningful look that he wasn't talking about her physical injuries…and he knew that she knew exactly what he meant. "I should have never…he exclaimed as he pushed himself off the bed and began pacing, "I should have never let my guard down…Rufus was right, that was too damn close."
"No, Wyatt." Lucy exclaimed firmly, her anxiety over Wyatt's feeling of guilt mounting. "Listen to me…this is not your fault at all. Wyatt…mymotherdid this…not you." She colored as she admitted softly, "If I had done what she wanted…" she bit her lip in frustration, "Wyatt, this was just part of her plan…to get me to come home."
"I know all about that Lucy." Wyatt huffed out.
She gaped at him, "What? How?" At Wyatt's clenched jaw and eye roll, she gasped out in realization, her worst fears being confirmed as she asked, "You…you talked to my mother, didn't you?"
Wyatt nodded as he answered flatly, "Yeah, I talked to her." Wyatt added, "After she had seen you."
"Oh." Lucy breathed out, horrified by what her mother might have said to Wyatt. After everything she had said to her in that jail cell, after the heartless and shameful way she had tried to manipulate her, what on Earth could have said to him?
He scoffed as he turned a questioning glance her way, "Let me guess, she told you I wouldn't come for you, didn't she? Tried to make you doubt me even more than you already do so that you would go back with her to Rittenhouse."
Lucy stared back at him, stunned. He had hit the figurative nail on the head, but it wasn't that which filled her with untold amounts of disgrace…it was his words, his belief, that Lucy had indeed, doubted him.
Suddenly, Lucy was back to thinking about that knife and how Wyatt had lied to Agent Christopher about how Lucy had come by it. Why else would he have done that, but to save Lucy the trouble of revealing to the entire team that Carol Preston had given her that knife as a means of escape…not just from the hangman's noose, but from the team, and from the eventual hurt that would come when, as her mother so coldly suggested, Lucy realized that Wyatt would never care for her in the same way he cared for Jessica.
No wonder Wyatt's guilt seemed to be so paramount. If Carol Preston had accused Wyatt of being insincere and untrustworthy in regards to his feelings for Lucy right on the heels of Lucy's own expressed doubt, was it any wonder that her near escape from the hangman's noose had him feeling that a bit defensive? That perhaps Lucy would believe that his absence in her time of need was evidence of his indifference to her?
Lucy covered her face with her hands, inwardly berating herself for allowing her stupid doubts to become ammunition against the only person she wholly trusted.
Taking her silence as confirmation of the truth, Wyatt bit his lip and nodded. Whatever doubts Lucy had had about him that morning, Wyatt thought, had probably come back ten-fold as she stood there with that noose around her neck.
He hated himself for ever giving her any reason to doubt him. That, he believed, was the reason she hadn't mentioned her mother's visit to Agent Christopher in the first place; she had doubted. He could see it all over her face as they awaited her answer to Agent Christopher's question about the knife.
He knew it had to be hell for Lucy. She was torn between her mother and the team. He would never believe for one second that Lucy would ever betray them for Rittenhouse, but he also knew how she felt about her mother. She idolized her…and no matter what she had done, she was still her mother. So, would it be so difficult to believe that in a moment of weakness, Lucy would believe that she had reason to doubt Wyatt? After their conversation this morning, hadn't she already told him she had?
He could see her struggling to answer the question about that knife, knowing that it would force her to reveal a conversation; a conversation which would only highlight the fact that she had been disappointed by the two people in the world she should have been able to trust above all else.
So, he lied to spare her the dilemma. He lied so Lucy wouldn't have to go through the emotional hell of having to relive a moment when her expressed fears and insecurities were used against her as a weapon. Lucy had been put in a difficult position and while he took pride in the fact that he had been right, that Lucy would rather die than betray the team, he hated that she had ever believed, even if it was just for a moment, that he wouldn't have come for her.
He had hoped that by saving her he would be able to re-establish that trust, to prove himself to her…but that hope was dashed to pieces the moment he heard her crying alone in the bathroom.
She doubted him. She didn't trust him enough to even be the shoulder she could cry on.
Wyatt's face twisted in anguish as he lifted a gentle hand to her throat, remembering how horrified he had been to see that noose around her neck. He ran a soft finger over the angry rope burns and gasped out, "I'm so sorry, Lucy."
Determined more than ever to not breakdown in front of Wyatt, Lucy gripped onto his hand firmly and attempted to help him get over his guilt, "Wyatt…listen to me. There's nothing for you to be sorry for." She shook her head, "You saved my life."
"I almost didn't make it." he began, "If I had been just a few more seconds late…" he shuddered at the thought. Emma's taunt from earlier, though he had not shown in at the time, affected him deeply. Losing Jessica, the way he had, had been one of the worst experiences of his life. Having been choked a fair few times in his career as a Delta Force soldier, he knew how terrifying her last moments must have been; a tight hand around her throat, the desperate and frantic need for air that wouldn't come no matter how many times she must have tried to take a breath, the moment when she must have realized that help wouldn't come, that her life was ending. He had beaten himself up over his inability to protect her from that violent end and now, Lucy had almost met a similar fate…all because he had been so damn careless.
"But you weren't. You got there in time, Wyatt." Lucy maintained as she reached out for him, "I'm fine. Rufus is fine." Lucy soothed.
He looked at her doubtfully, pointing to her neck, "I'd hardly call that fine, Lucy."
Lucy threw up her hands in exasperation, 'What do you want me to say, Wyatt? That I was scared?" She let out a derisive laugh, "Yes…I was scared. I was terrified…but Wyatt, you can't beat yourself up over this…it wasn't your fault."
"The hell it isn't." Wyatt argued. "I knew she was looking for me, Lucy…but I still left that damn barn when I saw her head to that jailhouse." He cursed under his breath before he muttered, "I should never have done that…I should have just waited." He scoffed, "Instead, I fell right into her trap…your mother's whole plan was to make you think you couldn't count on us…on me…and she was right…you almost died, because of me."
"No, Wyatt." Lucy remonstrated, her voice thick with emotion as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and turned him to face her, "I almost died because of her…" she nodded as fresh tears pooled in her eyes, "…I am here, because of you." He turned his face away from her, angry with himself, until Lucy continued softly, "I never doubted you." Wyatt's eyes darted to hers, hardly daring to believe it until Lucy added firmly, "I knew you would come." As Wyatt stared at her intently, she reached out for him and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, thanking him for saving her, for being the one she could count on to protect her…
Wyatt wrapped his one good arm around her and pulled her close, returning her kiss measure for measure until he his emotions got the better of him and he pulled away. With tears in his eyes, he cupped the side of her head with his hand and gasped out through his tears, "I almost lost you."
Lucy blinked away her own tears as she shook her head and whispered, "No, you didn't."
Not satisfied with being apart from her for one more second, Wyatt pulled her to him once more, capturing her lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Hollywood 1941 had been the figurative damn bursting on their relationship. They had danced around the idea of possibilities for so long, that when the opportunity for them to finally act on their feelings arose, they did so with a frenzied passion.
This time was different.
Not quite able to put into words just how much Lucy meant to him, Wyatt tried to communicate the best he could through loving caresses and gentle, but passionate kisses. As he lowered her onto their shared bed, he grimaced slightly from the pain in his arm, but when Lucy startled and began to concern herself over him, he shrugged it off, along with the damned sling, and took her right back into his arms again, determined to show her that he wasn't about to let anything keep them apart…not even if it meant having every single one of his stitches replaced.
Notes:
This chapter was originally VERY VERY VERY long...and those of you who have read my stories before know that I hate proofing long chapters. I tried...I really did, but the more I proofed, the longer the chapter got and as it was sitting right at 10k words, I decided to split it right in half. I think I left it in a good enough place, plus t gives me a chance to write out the following chapter without you having to wait very long for the next chapter update.
As for what you received here, it's kind of filler...I get that...not a lot of action happening...but one of the reasons I HATE the Salem episode...and really dislike Season 2 in general is because we didn't have these heart to heart conversations that we got in Season 1. I understand the 10 episode Season sort of screwed us in that respect, but to me, especially after all the emotional hurt that Lucy suffered in Salem alone, there should have been some conversation with SOMEONE...ANYONE...about how all of that affected her.
In terms of this fic, I wanted it to be a bonding moment for Lucy and Wyatt and I hope that I delivered in that respect. There's so many thing I wish we would have gotten...I'm still mad that we didn't see more concern from Wyatt in the actual Season 2 when she came back injured. I feel like it was completely OOC for him to see Lucy hurt and then immediately go beg Jessica for a second chance...UGH...don't even get me started. That's not the Wyatt from Red Scare who couldn't even stand the idea of Lucy staying behind in 1954 with Flynn. But I digress! Tomorrow is my youngest's birthday and so I will be busy most of tomorrow and this weekend, but because the next chapter is essentially finished (minus the proofing) it shouldn't be long before i can update this again.
I also have a FLUFFY Valentines fic (making up for lost time theme) waiting to published...I'm just trying to wait until we get a little closer to the holiday to put that one out for you - it's ALL FLUFF, so just be prepared for cotton candy sweetness.
As always, thank you for reading. I appreciate you all so much and absolutely love hearing from you. It brightens my day and warms my soul...which, during these frigid times, is a beautiful thing.
