Chapter 9: Vodka
Wyatt scrambled to his feet, assault rifle in hand as he looked on in horror at the situation before him. Emma had Lucy in a choke hold, the tip of her knife dangerously close and prodding into Lucy's carotid artery.
One wrong move, one flick of that knife and he could lose her.
He looked through his scope, determined to end Emma before she ended Lucy, but this wasn't a looming Garcia Flynn. Emma, being nearly the same height as Lucy, was almost completely shielded from view. There was no guarantee he would hit Emma and he sure as hell did not want to hit Lucy.
He hesitated and Emma smirked. "You can't do it, can you?" she mocked. "That's sweet...you should remember this moment, Lucy, since it will be the last time he chooses you."
Silent tears fell from Lucy's eyes as Wyatt raised his gun again, a grim determination on his face.
"Do it, Wyatt." Lucy's voice urged him on, her eyes pleading with him. "She's their only pilot." She wanted to communicate the full meaning in that statement. Yes, it would mean the end of Rittenhouse's ability to travel in the past…at least for the time being. But it would also mean that they couldn't use her feelings for Wyatt against her anymore. "Do it." she ordered him again.
"Wyatt?" came Agent Christopher's voice in his ear, "Do you have a clean shot?"
As a Delta Force soldier, weapons training and accuracy is something of a given. A little over a year ago, when Lucy was in a similar position, he had made that precarious shot. It hadn't even registered to him that there could be a danger in hitting Lucy. When she called him on it later, he was almost amused that she had believed he could miss. I guess I'm just that good, ma'am, was his answer then.
But now?
Though his aim was as good as it ever was, this time he could not bring himself to trust in his training. "Do you have a clean shot?" Agent Christopher's voice repeated. Sure, he could make a risky shot like he did in 1937, but the consequences if he missed were far too great for him to even consider it.
"No." he lied. An alarm sounded from somewhere within the compound and suddenly the room was erupting in a myriad of small explosions. As the rest of his team poured into the compound, Wyatt panicked, worried that one wrong move from them might hurt Lucy. "Hold your fire!" he yelled out, his voice cracking with emotion as Emma dragged Lucy backwards with her towards the Mothership.
"Take the shot, Wyatt." Agent Christopher ordered. "It's clean." Wyatt grimaced at that, understanding now that his head cam was probably back online, but still he could not bring himself to pull the trigger.
His resolve was further tested when Carol Preston emerged into the room, freezing at the sight of the armed agents all pointing their rifles at Emma and Lucy. He could take her, use her as leverage against Emma…the two Preston women's lives hanging in the balance…but one look at Lucy and he knew such action on his part would be unforgivable. Any move against Carol would undoubtedly hurt Lucy. She may have been the cause of so much of Lucy's pain, but she was still her mother and Wyatt knew that despite her disappointment and disillusionment, she still loved her.
Taking sight of Carol, Emma eased her way over to her, using Lucy as a means to shield them both, "If any one of you so much as flinches, she dies." Emma warned as she covered Carol's path to the Mothership.
"Hold your fire." Wyatt ordered as he watched helplessly as Emma drag Lucy away from him. As they climbed the stairs to the Mothership, Lucy's voice sent a chill into his heart, 'Please…please don't." she cried. "Don't do this, mom…please."
He was desperately thinking of a plan to stop Rittenhouse from taking off with Lucy again when several shots fired from his right sent him reeling as the blast of several more explosions had his team ducking for cover. Through the haze of fire and smoke, he could see a man in a robe, brandishing a gun and making his way to the Mothership. The wind was completely knocked out of him, but as he righted himself, he could hear Lucy screaming his name and he saw her fiercely clawing at Emma in an attempt to break away from her. No longer in immediate danger, and with Wyatt still attempting to regain his senses, a shot was fired from his team, injuring the man who had shot Wyatt and giving Lucy the chance she needed to break free from Emma's grip. Stumbling down the stairs as Emma and the others safely stowed themselves away into the Mothership, she was met by Homeland agents who, after assessing her for injuries, allowed her to rush to Wyatt's side.
Throwing off his helmet and head cam and tossing his rifle aside, Wyatt wrapped Lucy up in his arms, before pulling away from her, his hands cupping her face, and scanning her for any injuries. His fingers paused at a small, superficial scrape on her neck. "It's nothing." Lucy muttered through her tears. "It's just a scratch."
Unconvinced, he wiped away at the blood pooling to the surface of her injury and called for a medic, who took her away for an evaluation. Wyatt, meanwhile ordered the team to collect whatever they could from the now nearly ruined databases lying around. He knew from their mission to 1972 that Rittenhouse didn't keep lists of its members, but he also knew that while they may not have a list of names, they sure as hell had properties, financial records, and holdings…paper trails that would lead them somewhere.
After this last week of hell and tonight especially, he was determined to cut the head off of this damn snake. They had been a thorn in their side for far too long, but it as much as he hated them for their actions against the team collectively, he absolutely despised them for what they had done to Lucy. He cast one look at her, as she was having a small bandage applied to her neck and sighed. He was glad she was safe, but given her reaction to seeing him, he knew there was something very wrong. She didn't want to leave…why?
Seeing an opportunity to delegate a few tasks, Wyatt made his way back over to Lucy's side as the medic handed her a small bottle of water. "You gonna be alright?" he asked in a hushed voice.
Lucy, however, didn't answer him. She really didn't know what to say. Physically, she would be fine, as she had surmised the injury to her neck was superficial, hardly anything to get worked up about. Emotionally, however, she was a total wreck. While she was happy to see Wyatt, she knew their reunion would be short-lived. Rittenhouse would retaliate and while she couldn't be sure how they would go about resurrecting Wyatt's dead wife, she had no doubt that after what had just passed, they would do everything in their power to see that they did.
Wyatt, not understanding why Lucy was acting so strangely, but knowing it had to be linked to whatever she went through since she was taken in 1934, merely wrapped her up in a blanket and led her to a quiet corner of the room. Sitting her down on a small chair, he pressed a kiss to her temple and muttered, "Agent Christopher is on her way, we'll be out of here soon, okay?"
Still, she did not respond. She stared at the void where the Mothership once stood, wondering where it was now, wondering if Wyatt, the warehouse, all of it would disappear if they were successful in their retribution, wondering if, even if history changed all around her, if some part of her would still remember.
A tear escaped her as she realized that wouldn't be possible. By resetting the timeline to make it so Jessica had never died, it would almost guarantee that Wyatt would never have been the one chosen for this mission. What had he told her in Hollywood? He had taken on the mission at Mason because it was dangerous, because he had stopped caring. With a wife he loved at his side, maybe even a child or two in the mix, the likelihood of Wyatt being the one called into this operation was slim to none.
No. If they were successful, she and Wyatt would never have met and while she was almost grateful that the pain of losing him would disappear the minute they saved Jessica, it was the thought of knowing that her memories of him would be lost forever that had her incapable of doing any more than offering Wyatt a small nod as he placed a comforting hand on her back.
God, how she wished he wouldn't do that.
That one small gesture reminded her of how much she stood to lose. The dam on her emotions burst forth and she found herself crying pitifully into Wyatt's chest as he hugged her closer. How much longer would she be able to find comfort in his embrace? Minutes, hours, days? What did it matter, really? He was as good as lost to her…and she could never tell him.
Jessica had been his lightning bolt, his reason for living and here she was crying that he was going to get the love of his life back.
"What the hell did they do to you, Lucy?" Wyatt muttered into her hair as he rubbed his hand up and down her arm.
Understanding that Wyatt would keep asking questions that she would not be able to answer, Lucy quickly wiped away her tears and stiffened her upper lip. No matter how much pain she was feeling, she couldn't let him know. If these were the last few moments they would have together, she didn't want them to be full of sadness. Straightening herself up, she pulled herself away from him and tugged the blanket he had draped over her shoulders a little closer.
Wyatt looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to answer him…
But no answer came.
"Lucy?" Wyatt asked tentatively, "what happened? What did they do to you?"
Lucy, however, only shook her head slightly. Wyatt reached out to touch her face, but she refused to meet his eye. Instead, she jerked her head away from his hand as she murmured, "Nothing…please, it doesn't matter."
Wyatt gaped at her, hardly believing the sudden change in her emotions. It was as if she had slipped a mask over her face. No longer was her brow lined with tense emotion, instead, she looked solemn and serene. "Yeah right, nothing." Wyatt countered gently, "Nothing doesn't make you cry like that, Lucy."
A flicker of guilt and shame stole across her face momentarily…but Wyatt caught it. Lucy, still not meeting his eye, shrugged her shoulders slightly, "I'm fine. I'm just happy to see you, that's all."
Wyatt knew she was lying. From the moment he busted in that room to get her out of this hellhole, she had backed away from him, refused to even leave…and now she was saying she was happy to see him?
Something was not right…but it was clear to Wyatt she did not want to talk about it…least of all, with him.
And that hurt like hell.
He made another attempt to talk to her, but was interrupted by an agent who had a question about the salvage operations. Wyatt hated to leave her in the state she was in, but as he was leading this team, he couldn't exactly sit back while they did all the work, particularly since he was the one who was supposed to be Agent Christopher's right hand in all of this.
He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and went back to the work of sorting out the mess that was left behind by Carol Preston and her cronies. The explosions, though small, had been effective. There wasn't one damn piece of electronic hardware that wasn't heavily damaged. Still, Mason, Rufus and Jiya were the most brilliant people he knew. They figured out how to build a time machine…it didn't take a stretch of the imagination to figure that they could do something with all of this.
With that in mind, Wyatt ordered some of the larger servers to be loaded into the awaiting government vehicles. He was standing by the door supervising the transfer of materials out of the compound when Agent Christopher's voice sounded from behind him, "What do you have for me, Master Sergeant?" She was just exiting her vehicle and making her way into the compound as Wyatt spun around to greet her.
"Not much, I'm afraid. It's going to take a while to comb through the place, but if we can salvage some of these computers," Wyatt stated as he motioned to the pile of electronics they had already procured from the ruins of what used to be Rittenhouse headquarters, "there's got to be intel here."
Agent Christopher cast a steely gaze throughout the burned-out room. The sight of Lucy sitting alone, wrapped in a blanket caused her to pause. "How is she?" she asked with a nod in her direction.
Wyatt turned slightly, concern evident all over his face, before turning back to Agent Christopher and responding truthfully, "I don't know." his voice was heavy with emotion, "She won't talk to me."
Agent Christopher frowned slightly as she studied Lucy. "Do you think we need to have her evaluated?" she asked Wyatt softly.
The pain in Wyatt's eyes at that question spoke to the inner turmoil he was feeling in regards to Lucy's condition. "She won't like it." Wyatt argued.
"You've gone through POW training…she hasn't." Agent Christopher countered. "She's been through a lot in these past few months, it may not be a bad idea. At the very least it could give her someone to talk to about all of this."
"She has me." Wyatt said tersely.
"That may be so…but she isn't talking to you." Agent Christopher reminded him. Wyatt tensed his jaw at that comment, but absolutely flinched when Agent Christopher sagely added, "Your relationship may be the problem here."
"What do you mean?" Wyatt asked, affronted.
"You could have taken out Emma, Wyatt. You had a clear shot." Agent Christopher reprimanded. "Hell, even Lucy told you to take it."
Wyatt shook his head, "It didn't…I didn't think I could safely take that shot without hitting Lucy."
"And what about Carol Preston?" Agent Christopher countered. "She is the enemy. She leads this organization. You had an entire team at your disposal, Wyatt…yet you let her get away."
"Ma'am…" Wyatt began.
"No, save the excuses, Wyatt." Agent Christopher reproved. "You had a job to do and you failed to eliminate a threat because she was Lucy's mother." Wyatt bit his lip and hung his head in shame, knowing all too well that Agent Christopher was right. He had let his emotions get the better of him. "Wyatt, we all care about Lucy, so I understand that you don't want to cause her anymore pain…but it is your job to eliminate threats and like it or not, Lucy's family is that threat." She sighed heavily as she continued, "Perhaps Lucy understands that and is trying to safely distance herself from you for the good of the team."
Wyatt stared back at Lucy, sad and hurt that she wouldn't confide him, wouldn't talk to him…but this latest allegation from Agent Christopher made him feel like she was slipping away and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
He knew Lucy. Yes, she was the most forgiving and kind-hearted person he had ever met, but he was pretty damn sure that if he treated her mother like the terrorist she was, Lucy would never forgive him. As much as Lucy had contended that she had lost her mother, Wyatt knew that she held out hope, albeit a very small hope, that Carol Preston would turn over a new leaf. Be on the right side of history, Lucy had all but begged her in 1918, but to no avail. It had nearly destroyed her, to lose her mother like that…and Wyatt understood why.
Because despite everything, she loved her.
And why wouldn't she? Wyatt's dad was a world class sonofabitch, but he knew that as much as he despised the man, there was a small part of him that respected him…for the sole reason that he was his father. That was something that nobody could take away.
Not even Rittenhouse.
Once all that could be salvaged was safely stowed and carted away, Wyatt and Lucy clambered into the back of a government SUV and began a silent journey back to the bunker. There was so much Wyatt wanted to say, but if Agent Christopher was right and Lucy was keeping her distance from him, he didn't want to upset her further. Instead, he cast sideways glances at her as she stared out of the window. She hadn't shed one tear since her breakdown earlier, but Wyatt could tell that underneath her stony expression there was pain. He could see it in her eyes and the way she would look at him in the rare moments he caught her doing so.
He was at a loss of what to do to help her. He hated Rittenhouse and what all of this had done to them. Forced to live underground, presumed dead by the rest of the world…hell, Rufus's family had even had a memorial service for him. But Lucy…well, she seemed to bear the brunt of it all. It wasn't enough that she had been forced to give up her academic career for these missions…something she hadn't even volunteered for. No, she lost her father, her sister…and discovered that her mother was not the woman she thought she was…and like Agent Christopher said, all of that was bound to take a toll.
Wyatt helped her out of the SUV when they arrived, holding onto her elbow as they made their way towards the bunker hatch. Still, she said nothing and Wyatt was worried that they would spend the rest of the evening in awkward silence but just as they opened the main door, a whoosh and clang of metal on metal announced the arrival of the Lifeboat. They had just made their way down the hall as Flynn, Rufus and Mason came clambering down the stairs of the time machine, wide smiles on their faces. Lucy froze at the sight and turned to Wyatt with a gasp, "Mason went along?"
Relieved that Lucy was talking again, Wyatt smiled broadly and nodded, "Turns out Mason was the expert for this particular mission. Even Flynn didn't know what he knew."
"Oh yeah?" she asked, grateful for a chance to talk about anything other than what was weighing on her mind, "What was it?"
Wyatt shrugged, "Some father of rock n' roll…an album needing to be recorded or something…I don't know." He sighed and looked over at Lucy intently, "I was a little more concerned about other things."
Lucy flushed, feeling guilty for shutting Wyatt out, "I'm sorry." she whispered. "I…I didn't mean to leave without telling you."
"Lucy," Wyatt moaned, "is that what all of this is about?" Lucy frowned slightly, but said nothing more so Wyatt continued, "You did what you needed to do…I can't be upset about that. I'm just sorry I wasn't there to keep you safe."
She swallowed hard and looked at him in the eye for the first time since he had stormed into Rittenhouse Headquarters. "Thank you." she muttered, "for coming to get me."
Wyatt stared back at her, hardly knowing what to think. Knowing that she had fought him when he tried to get her out of there, he didn't know whether he could fully trust that she truly meant it. He nodded at her solemnly and offered her a slight smirk as he murmured back to her, "Any time…ma'am."
From the moment they had met, that had always been a small source of annoyance and amusement between them. Before he had even set eyes on Lucy, Wyatt had insisted on bestowing that title upon her…much to her exasperation. To her further annoyance, he continued to use it, until one day it didn't bother her so much. It became a such a part of who they were, their shared history, their relationship with one another that Wyatt and only Wyatt could refer to her as such.
Now, with the threat of losing him looming over her like a dark, ominous cloud, tears sprang to her eyes the moment that "ma'am" escaped his lips. Wyatt, absolutely worried for her now, reached out, but she brushed him away, "I'm okay." she gasped out, "I don't want to talk about it."
Wyatt made to argue with her, but suddenly Lucy was being embraced by Rufus who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, "Lucy! Oh, my God, you're back! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? I don't think I have to tell you what a mess we were without you." He nodded at Wyatt, "This guy here, especially." He took in Wyatt's appearance, "I guess that's why you didn't go to 1936, huh?" Wyatt nodded as he cast a sideways glance at Lucy who was back to not meeting his eye again. Rufus, noting the tension between the two of them, lowered his voice and asked hesitantly, "Is…is everything okay?"
Wyatt look towards Lucy, who was back to fighting off tears again. She pointed down the hall with a forced smile on her face and quipped, "I'm going to go jump in the shower before…um… Flynn gets in there and uses up all the hot water."
Wyatt watched her go with a heavy sigh prompting Rufus to ask, "What the hell happened tonight?"
Wyatt shook his head, "I don't know…but I could ask you the same thing. How was the mission?"
Rufus' face broke into a grin, "A fanboy saved the world." he quipped proudly, "Come on, I'll tell you all about it."
After talking with Rufus over a beer about the 1936 mission, Wyatt cleaned himself up and cautiously approached the bedroom. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb her, after the hellish week she obviously had. When he quietly pushed open the door, his breath hitched in his throat, so overcome was he from just seeing her back where she belonged. Lucy was already lying in the bed, though Wyatt could immediately tell she wasn't asleep. Even so, he silently made his way over to his side of the bed and slipped underneath the covers.
They lay there, side by side, not touching, not speaking, centuries seemed to pass until Wyatt, unable to stand it any longer, rolled over and wrapped his arm around Lucy, hugging her close in an attempt to silently communicate to her how much she meant to him.
Far from the cold manner in which she had treated him earlier, Lucy immediately turned into his embrace and nestled her head onto his chest. Letting out a shaky breath as she wrapped her own arms around him tightly. Relieved that she hadn't brushed him away again, Wyatt let out a heavy sigh as he caressed her arm. "I missed you." he finally managed to say in a harsh whisper.
"I missed you, too" was the Lucy's strangled reply. He could feel her tears as they fell onto his bare chest and it made him hate Rittenhouse in a way that he had never hated them before. Whatever the hell they had put her through in this one week had clearly done a number on her emotions.
"Get some sleep, Lucy." Wyatt murmured into her hair before pressing a kiss onto the top of her head.
But Lucy couldn't sleep.
Well…she imagined she could if she tried, but she didn't want to sleep. She lay there, listening to the steady sound of Wyatt's beating heart, finding comfort in the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing progressively deepened. Though she tried to focus on him and only him, her mind was plagued with fears that had her shaking off her drowsiness with a fierce determination.
She felt as if she were waiting for the axe to fall. Every moment seemed to be teetering on the brink of disaster. She feared sleep, too afraid that she would wake up in a new timeline, not remembering a moment of this one. She feared being awake, wondering if her reality would suddenly dissolve before her eyes, leaving her confused and disoriented. When would they bring her back? Tonight? Tomorrow? Would they torture her with waiting, lull her into a false sense of security and then set their cruel plan into motion? Would Wyatt really be happier without her? Could she ever be truly happy without him?
These thoughts waged a war within her mind until she could no longer stand the torture of it. As quietly as she could manage, she slipped out of the bed and pulled on her robe and slippers. She would never be able to quiet her mind on own, and though she did not want to sleep she needed to at least numb the pain that was plaguing her.
She shuffled out of the bedroom, careful not to make a sound with the door and found herself standing before the cabinets in the kitchen desperately searching for the one thing that could offer her any relief from her troubled thoughts.
Several nights passed much the same way.
During the day, Lucy would strive to maintain a semblance of normalcy. She threw herself into work to keep her mind occupied and distracted from her anxious thoughts. Thanks to the Rittenhouse raid there was lots to do. She helped sort through bits of computer hardware, salvaging screens, and pieces of technology that Jiya and Rufus deemed useful. Wyatt sat by her side, careful watching her and talking to her, but never once alluding to the fact that he knew she wasn't sleeping.
Flynn, if he was out of his room, would observe their busy work from his chair, looking up from his novel from time to time only to make a snarky comment, before settling back into quiet solitude.
After dinner, one night, Lucy sat on the couch watching a movie alone while Rufus and Jiya worked on the LifeBoat and Wyatt cleaned up after dinner. She had tried to help Mason sort through the bits of computer hardware from the latest pile of salvaged equipment, but it was no use. Days of almost no sleep seemed to be catching up with her and she found herself unable to concentrate on the menial task before her. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she shook off the drowsiness as she nursed another cup of coffee.
"That's your third cup today." Flynn observed with a drawl.
Lucy sat up with a start, observing that Flynn was sitting in the chair just opposite the couch, quietly observing her with apparent amusement. "So, what if it is?" Lucy snapped back.
Flynn frowned as he shrugged, "I didn't realize you were such a big coffee drinker." He said simply.
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me." Lucy said irritably.
Flynn smiled and shook his head as he leaned forward and lowered his voice, "I think sometimes I know you better than you know yourself."
Lucy scoffed as she rolled her eyes, "You're delusional."
Flynn nodded his head, looking somewhat abashed, "Fine." he said with a sigh, "but I think you should know, that coffee isn't going to do you any good."
"And why is that?" Lucy asked sardonically.
"Because it's decaf." Flynn quipped with a nod towards Wyatt who was drying dishes, completely oblivious to their hushed conversation. He chuckled dryly as he left a gaping Lucy sitting on the couch, relishing in the fact that he had won a small victory over her insolence.
She set down her mug and watched him disappear down the hall, no doubt to congratulate himself on being the world's biggest creep. Lucy huffed out a breath as she cast a glance towards Wyatt who had just slung the dish towel over his shoulder and had gotten to work scrubbing down the counters and the table.
Refusing to believe anything Flynn said at face value, Lucy stood up and made her way into the kitchen, offering Wyatt small smile as she poured what remained of her coffee down the sink.
"Had enough?" Wyatt asked in a hopeful tone as he set to work rinsing it out for her.
Lucy narrowed her eyes at him and turned to the cabinets, "I was thinking of making a new cup, actually."
Wyatt paused in his work slightly, before asking in an unnaturally high voice, "Uh…what was wrong with the cup you just had?"
"Nothing." Lucy said simply as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the basket where they kept their coffee. "I just felt like making a new cup."
Wyatt, seeing that she had the coffee container in her hand, made a lunge for it, but he was too late. "What's with all the decaf?" she asked innocently. "Does anyone here drink decaf?"
Doing his best to look as surprised as she was feigning to be, Wyatt shrugged, "I don't know…maybe Flynn?"
Lucy stared back at him, shaking her head. "You've been giving me decaf? Haven't you?"
Wyatt slumped his shoulders and threw back his head in exasperation, "Lucy…" he breathed out, but she was already making her way back towards the bedroom. Wyatt flung the dish towel from his shoulder and followed after, cursing under his breath as he did so.
Lucy tore into their bedroom and began pacing. Her anger at being tricked far outweighing her anxiety at the moment…or maybe she was just that on edge because of everything. In any case, she rounded on Wyatt the moment he set foot in the room, "I can't believe you tried to trick me."
"Lucy, I wasn't trying to…" Wyatt began defensively. "I just…I know you aren't sleeping." Lucy scoffed but Wyatt gave her a look that told her it was no use trying to deny it. She folded her arms in front of her chest defensively as he pressed on, "Listen, I don't know what the hell happened with your mom, Lucy…and if you don't want to talk to me about it, that's fine. But Lucy, you need to sleep. This…this isn't healthy."
"Says the man who let his arm get septic because he wouldn't rest when I told him to."
"This is different and you know it, Lucy." Wyatt scolded. "You haven't been the same since that night I pulled you out of Rittenhouse…admit it." Lucy sank down on the bed and held her head in her hands, but she didn't argue with him. "Something is clearly bothering you." Wyatt pressed on, "So, what is it? Huh? Dammit, Lucy," Wyatt breathed out his voice heavy in concern, "I just want to help you."
"I know" came Lucy's small voice. "But believe me when I say, there's nothing you or I can do to change this."
"Change what?" Wyatt urged as he knelt down beside her, "Lucy…what the hell did they do to you in there?"
She let out a derisive laugh as tears sprang to her eyes, "Oh you know…the usual. Reading propaganda, veiled threats…coercion."
"Did they make you do something to prove your loyalty again?" Wyatt asked seriously.
Lucy looked at Wyatt with pleading eyes, not wanting him to see the truth she had been striving to keep hidden for so long.
If he knew…what would his reaction be?
That almost scared her more than thought of losing him. To see the glimmer of hope and excitement in his eye when he found out that in any moment he could be back with Jessica, in a timeline where her murder never took place? It would break her heart more fully knowing that he was eager for the reset than just waiting, in lonely isolation, for such a reset to take place.
It's not like she could blame him for being hopeful about the prospect of having his wife back again. She was the love of his life, the woman he had vowed to have and to hold forever, and her death had been his life's greatest regret. No matter what she felt for him, no matter what he felt for her, his heart would always belong to Jessica.
For him to discover that Lucy had complied with her mother's demands in order to prevent such his miraculous reunion with his murdered wife…well, she wasn't sure she could withstand the look of hurt and betrayal on his face. So, she lied.
"No…they didn't make me do anything."
Wyatt looked at her doubtfully, but decided that it was best not to press the issue. Instead, he placed his hand on hers, rubbing a comforting circle on her wrist with his thumb.
Not much more was said by either the rest of the night. Wyatt, Lucy noted, took much longer to fall asleep than usual…his determination to see that Lucy get some much-needed rest outweighing the demands of his own exhausted state. After what felt like several hours however, his breathing deepened and the weight the arm wrapped around her shoulders seemed decisively heavy.
Once more, Lucy slipped out from under the covers, donned her robe and made her way down the hall and into the kitchen. A small light shone from the end table in the common room, casting an eerie glow throughout the space. As quietly as she could manage she pried open the upper cabinet and cast her eyes over the various bottles in what served as their mini bar, her brow furrowed in confusion as she noted the one she preferred was missing from its regular nook.
"Looking for this?" Flynn's voice sounded softly behind her causing her to whirl around with a gasp.
"You scared me." she breathed out, clutching her chest, willing her heart to slow its rapid pace.
He was holding a half empty bottle of vodka, smirking at her knowingly. Lucy eyed him suspiciously, "How did you…?
"I told you," Flynn said with a smirk, "I know you better than you know yourself."
Lucy glared at him. "You've been spying on me." she accused.
"Why would I need to spy on you?" Flynn asked in mock indignation, "You forget that you gave me your journal."
"Which may or may not be true…" Lucy countered.
He took a step towards her, essentially trapping her in the kitchen as he whispered, "No, you gave it to me and told me to read it…and I did."
Lucy stared back at him, unsure of whether to trust what he said or not. There were so many unanswered questions she had about that journal and what had caused her to give it to Garcia Flynn in the first place. What was she trying to change? What was she trying to prevent? Did she know that by doing so, she would lose her sister? She needed answers. With a look of steely determination, she looked up at Flynn, large and looming above her, "Why? Why would I give it to you?" she let out a incredulous laugh, "How did I even give it to you?"
"Do you really want to know?" Flynn asked with a raised brow. He lifted up the bottle of vodka and tilted his head towards his room, "I'll be happy to tell you the whole story, but not here." he said with a determined nod.
Lucy's eyes darted around the darkened common area, "Why not here?" she asked in bewilderment.
"Because someone might be lurking in a corner listening to every word we say." Flynn said with a bemused smirk as he walked away, bottle of vodka in hand.
Lucy bit her lip as she debated her situation. She knew that Flynn wasn't to be trusted, but he was also the only one who had read that damn journal and as such, was the only one who could provide her with some insight. Wyatt had told her that if she didn't like the future Flynn had predicted for her in that journal, then she had the power to rewrite it…but did she? She didn't even know what was in the journal…and if she had indeed given it to Flynn, did that mean she was supposed to rewrite her future? She wondered what that future entailed. Did it include Wyatt? Had Jessica been brought back? Maybe that was what she was meant to change…and if she had changed that because she selfishly wanted Wyatt, how did it make it any better than her mother?
Heaving a heavy sigh and already regretting her decision, Lucy stole after Flynn down the darkened corridor towards his room where he was standing by his open door waiting for her. As she approached, he ushered her in with a flourish of his hand and satisfied smirk. She entered with a cautious glance around her, something that made Flynn chuckle as he shut the door behind them.
Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Lucy bristled, "Look, you don't know me…and the things you've done…" she shook her head, "I cannot believe that I would ever agree to them, that I would give you this journal to torch history."
"You didn't give me the journal to torch history," Flynn said with a sigh as he took a seat in a lopsided desk chair, "you gave me the journal in order to save it."
He twisted the cap off the bottle of vodka and began pouring the crystal-clear liquid into two mugs sitting on his desk. Lucy scoffed at his admission, "And just when did I do this?"
"In 2014." Flynn answered promptly. "It was two weeks after my family was killed. On Christmas Eve." His face was serious as he took a sip vodka and handed a mug to Lucy. "I was alone, in hiding, in Sao Paulo, Brazil. The only thing keeping me from killing myself was my determination to take out the bastards that had murdered my family." He nodded at Lucy, "I was on my third drink when you came in."
"Impossible." Lucy said with a shake of her head, feeling silly for having believed Flynn would tell her the truth. "I've never been to Sao Paulo."
"Maybe not yet." Flynn maintained with a nod, "But you were there…you looked older…probably a few years older than you are now. You told me your name, told me you knew that Rittenhouse had killed my family. You told me there was a way to stop them, but to do it, I was going to need your help and that is when you handed me the journal."
"No." Lucy said in agitation, "it's not possible. We can't travel back onto our own timeline."
"You were there, so it has to be possible." Flynn said with a shrug. "Maybe Rufus and Jiya will figure out a way."
"And why would I travel back to give you the journal? The minute you used it…" Lucy's voice caught in her throat as she remembered the awful feeling when she had come home from 1937 to find her sister gone. "…Amy is gone because of what you did." she gasped out with a sob.
Flynn looked suddenly uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his chair, before clearing his throat and admitting ruefully, "I never intended for that to happen, Lucy. Your sister disappearing…I wasn't trying to hurt you. I took that journal and thought only of using it as a way to save my family…to stop the people that killed them."
Lucy nodded as she took a sip of her vodka, not quite able to meet Flynn's eye as she contemplated everything he said. Some future version of herself had risked traveling back on her own timeline to hand Flynn this journal. It was that, which prompted him to steal the time machine. That meant all of this, everything that had happened to her since that fateful night when she was first called in to Mason Industries had started because of her…because of what she did. "So, what you're saying is," she muttered softly, "I'm no better than my mother…than Rittenhouse."
"You are nothing like your mother, Lucy." Flynn spat out angrily. His reaction took Lucy by surprise, and her eyes darted up to his automatically in rapt curiosity as to how he could even make such a statement when, as far as she knew, he had never even met Carol Preston.
Lucy looked at him thoughtfully, wondering what other secrets he held, what other things he knew from the journal and whether he knew what Rittenhouse had in store for her…for them. All of them. "If I went back to change my future, then yes I am." she argued quietly.
Flynn frowned slightly as he murmured, "I don't think giving me this journal was about changing your future." He nodded at her in assurance, "I think it was about stopping them from ruining it." Once again, Lucy's eyes darted to his. Whether he was giving her a hint about Jessica or not was beyond her comprehension. Flynn's expression was unreadable and as he was back to sipping his vodka he didn't seem to be interested in expounding on that statement any further.
Following his lead, Lucy took another drink from her own cup, grimacing slightly as the alcohol burned its way down her throat. She couldn't bring herself to come right out and ask the question that had been weighing so heavily on her mind for the past few days, so instead she skirted around the issue by bringing up his own family, "You once told me that if you were successful in saving your wife and daughter, you would…walk away from them." Flynn lowered his cup from his lips and looked at Lucy with renewed interest. "After fighting so hard to get her back, after killing through time…how could you walk away from that chance to have her in your life again?"
Flynn sighed and set down his mug and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his thighs, "I'm not saying it wouldn't be difficult." Flynn said sorrowfully, "I would do anything to see my family for just five more minutes…but knowing what I've done…"
"If she loved you, she would forgive you." Lucy muttered with a nod. "It wouldn't matter what you had done, really…because that timeline wouldn't exist anymore." A tear escaped her as she continued, "It would only be your memories that would stand between you and a second chance at happiness."
Flynn studied her thoughtfully, his mouth twisting pensively as his eyes attempted to read the sorrow behind hers. "That's true." he said after a long while. "It's hard to say how any of us would act if someone we loved was suddenly brought back to us, you, me…" he gave her a meaningful glance before adding, "Wyatt." At the sound of his name, Lucy flushed and took another sip of her vodka, her hand shaking as she did so.
With a knowing nod and a serious look, Flynn observed, "Wyatt already tried to save his wife once, didn't he?"
Lucy swallowed hard, almost ashamed to admit to Flynn that he had, "Actually," she muttered, "he's tried to save her twice."
"Twice?" Flynn asked, sounding surprised. "I had no idea he was such a rule breaker."
Lucy 's lip quirked into a slight smile, "He only stole the time machine once…but the name you gave him didn't work." she said as if suddenly realizing Flynn might have purposefully sent him on a wild goose chase.
Catching her inference, Flynn threw up his hands defensively, "I only told him the name I received from my contacts."
"He seemed to think it was a pretty sure lead." Lucy accused as she narrowed her eyes.
"Well, that was his own fault for believing a wanted terrorist." Flynn said with a chuckle, completely diffusing the situation.
Lucy laughed in spite of herself. Watching Wyatt leave her home, seeing him come back, desperate, heart broken, bring carted off to God knows where…that had been one of the most heartbreaking experiences she ever had to witness. To be sitting here with Flynn, of all people, joking about it, seemed more than a little surreal.
Flynn smiled as he pressed her for more information, "So, did he try to save her again before or after I told him Wes Gilliam was the guy?"
"Before." Lucy said with a sigh. She let out a derisive laugh as she explained, "He sent her a Western Union telegram from 1962. You know, the mission where you kidnapped Judith Campbell and stole that nuclear core?"
"Ah…yes." said Flynn, remembering. "So, Wyatt actually sent a telegram to the future? Like in Back to the Future II?"
"That was the idea, yes." Lucy murmured as she took another sip of vodka.
"And I'm guessing that didn't work." Flynn quipped as he leaned back in his chair.
"No." Lucy said shortly. "It didn't." She tapped her fingers on her mug nervously and bit her lip debating over whether she should divulge her mother's plans to Flynn or not. She could not talk to Wyatt about this and Rufus would urge her to do just that…but the burden of it all was becoming too much. Flynn, having lost his own family, might be able to give her some much-needed perspective. Taking a steadying breath, Lucy confessed, "My mother told me that if I didn't cooperate…if I didn't comply, they would bring Jessica back."
"I'm sorry, Lucy" Flynn said slowly. "Though I did warn you Rittenhouse would exploit your relationship with Wyatt."
"I know you did." Lucy admitted ruefully, "but this really isn't the time to gloat."
"I didn't mean it to gloat, Lucy." Flynn maintained as he leaned forward in his chair again, "I only point that out because it's how they operate. They use whatever they can find against you…to destroy you."
Lucy nodded as fresh tears sprang to her eyes, "I am so happy to be back here and away from there, but I'm so terrified, because I feel like any moment history will change and she'll be back and…"
"Wyatt will be gone." Flynn said sympathetically. He studied her thoughtfully for a good long while, allowing her time to wipe her tears and drink some more vodka before responding, "What information do you think Rittenhouse will use to bring her back?"
Lucy lowered the mug from her lips and shrugged, " I…I don't know."
"There's no police evidence that indicates her murderer, there were no witnesses to the crime…and you, yourself said that Wyatt has tried twice and failed both times to bring her back."
Lucy shook her head slightly as she asked in confusion, "What's your point?"
"My point is," declared Flynn, "Rittenhouse knows no more about the murder of Jessica Logan than anybody else does. It was a scare tactic, Lucy. I don't think you have anything to worry about."
Lucy considered what Flynn said as she bit her lip. Any information they had about Jessica's murder they would have gotten from the police reports and newspaper clippings. Wyatt had spent years poring over the evidence and had come up empty handed…what would make Rittenhouse successful in preventing her murder where Wyatt was not?
Could Flynn be right? Could it have all been a massive manipulation? "Th…thank you." Lucy stammered out amazed, "I…I didn't think of it that way."
Flynn looked genuinely happy to have been of some help to her. He smirked as he reached out his hand for Lucy's mug to refill it. Lucy made a mild protestation, but Flynn held up his hand and waved it off, explaining, "You deserve a chance to relax, Lucy. You've had a stressful few days." He winked at her as he handed her back the mug, while he stood up and crossed over to the door, "Wait here." he said in a voice filled with amusement.
Confused, Lucy sat on Flynn's cot, waiting for him to reappear. Minutes passed and finally he remerged with a vinyl record in his hand. "This," he explained, "is a souvenir from our last mission. Robert Johnson, King of the Delta Blues." Flynn announced as he pulled the record out from its protective cover. Produced by none other than one Lando Calrissian."
Lucy snorted a laugh into her mug, "What? You didn't?"
"You're right. I didn't…that was Mason." Flynn announced as he fitted the record onto the player stashed in the corner of his room. The scratch of needle on vinyl followed by the soulful sounds of a blues guitar filled the room as Flynn sank back down in his chair and lifted his mug in cheers to Lucy. "Would you like to hear how Connor Mason saved rock n roll as we know it?"
Grateful for a distraction, Lucy nodded her head, grinning as she responded, "Yes, please."
Notes:
That was a very long chapter, I know.
And it was angsty. I'm sorry...but I truly don't believe that Lyatt wouldn't have some issues even the RHT had never stepped foot in the bunker. They both carry a lot of baggage and insecurities, but I hope that you'll stick with me and trust where I'm going with this.
You'll notice that I still have Lucy talk with Flynn...and while I hate the whole idea of that scene in Season 2...I really wanted it in here in a different light. Because Lucy didn't go on the Delta Blues mission in my fic, I needed a chance for her and Flynn to talk about the journal, about Amy...and I needed him to be a sort of confidante for her...and again, if you trust me, you'll see why that's important later on.
I'm sorry for all the angst. I promise good things will be coming! Just hang on a little longer!
As always, I love and appreciate you all taking the time to read this fic. If you are so inclined, leave a review...I love to hear from you.
