It had been a long time since Garcia Flynn had considered himself a compassionate man.

Years of harboring resentment and seeking vengeance, showing little to no mercy to those who got in his way had desensitized him. Killing was just part of his mission. The deaths of countless people – some named, some not, a reasonable repercussion given the war they were fighting. He had no patience to consider the costs of his actions– he only sought justice, revenge. If an unintended victim was caught in the crossfires of his vengeance, so be it. To care was to be vulnerable…and he had stopped caring the moment he held the bodies of his wife and daughter in his arms.

Yet, standing on the banks of the Combahee River, that moonless, dismal night, Garcia Flynn cared.

Kneeling down beside Lucy as she lay prostrate with grief on the muddy South Carolina shore, he scooped her up in his arms and held her, fighting back his own tears as she saturated his bloodied shirt with her own. He, more than anyone, understood what she was feeling. To suffer a loss so great, to feel so utterly helpless, to know that there was absolutely nothing you could do to bring them back…and knowing that the bastards responsible had gotten away? It was a bitter pill to swallow and Flynn, for all of his faults, wanted Lucy to know that she wasn't alone.

But for her, he knew, it was different.

His wife and child were innocent bystanders – "collateral damage" some might coldly say, casualties of his investigations into Rittenhouse's finances. He had dug too deep, gotten too close, uncovered a Pandora's box of secrets…and his family had paid the price. He was the intended target…not them…and that knowledge had weighed him down with guilt and self-loathing since that horrible night. His was an impersonal hit job gone wrong…but for Lucy, Wyatt's death was anything but impersonal.

This was personal. This had been deliberate. An orchestrated, calculated attack by her own damn family to break her, to bend her to their will. Wyatt was her Achilles Heel…and they, knowing this, had taken careful aim and fired their deadly shot.

Flynn could not understand that. Even while he held her quivering body against his chest as she wept on…he could not in any way relate to the cruel sense of betrayal she must certainly be feeling knowing that the man she loved had been killed in Rittenhouse's last-ditch attempt to exercise control over her. That her mother, a woman she had idolized all of her life, had been instrumental in plotting his demise? Wyatt knew the risks, of course…and so did Lucy. Hell, how many times had he warned both of them that Rittenhouse would exploit their relationship? And now they had, in the most devastating of ways.

But now was hardly the time for "I told you so's."

"Come on." he whispered as he lifted her off the ground, "Let's get you home."

She seemed hardly aware that Flynn was now carrying her through the nearly silent marshes towards the waiting Lifeboat, nor did she seem to care. She seemed completely oblivious to the world around her, her heart and mind no doubt still on the shores of that river next to Wyatt…and there, he knew, they would stay - for a long time.

He had felt the same way, after all. It didn't matter how far he ran – to Europe, to Asia…to a smoky little dive in Sao Paulo, Brazil…he was, every day, reliving the worst night of his life- obsessing over what he could have done differently, desperately trying to remember every smile, laugh and frown of those he loved. His heart, beating though it was, was dead and buried six feet deep with his family and had been for years. For Lucy, it didn't matter where or when she was physically or how many centuries divided her from Wyatt –Flynn understood that nothing would ever be able to tear her away from this awful time and place.

It would haunt her forever.

He didn't speak a word as he situated them both in the LifeBoat – because what was there, really, to say? Nothing he could offer her in the way of condolences could make up for the fact that Wyatt's chair was empty and would remain so for the unforeseeable future. Nothing he could do would ease the pain she was feeling. Besides, Lucy was hardly in any condition to talk. Numb with shock and grief, she remained unresponsive and passive as settled her into her chair, not giving him any kind of indication that she even knew where she was or what he was doing…until he went to fasten her safety harness.

"Don't." she whispered dangerously, suddenly gripping his hand.

"Lucy…" he breathed out, unnerved by her unexpected outburst, "I'm just trying to…"

"I said, don't." she gritted out, roughly tossing his hand aside as silent, angry tears streaked their way down her face.

He was at a loss what to do, obviously not wanting to jump through time without her secured…and definitely not about to attempt to buckle her in again – not when she was so obviously opposed to his help. He sighed heavily as he sat there considering her – her unwillingness to take necessary precautions no doubt stemming from her grief and yet he knew that they could not stay. "Lucy," he attempted again, "if we want to save Rufus…"

She let out a shuddering gasp as her shaking hands stroked the straps of her harness…as if willing them to latch on their own accord. Her tears were falling harder and more frequently now and Flynn had to turn away, hating to see her so distraught. It reminded him too much of his own grief, his own loss. He had just rubbed a rough hand across his face, desperately trying to keep his own emotions from overwhelming him when the soft sound of a metallic click reached his ears. Turning, he saw – to his immense relief – Lucy, slowly and mechanically buckling her harness, looking as numb and emotionless as she had before.

With a sigh of relief, he punched in the coordinates to the Auto-Pilot, silently thanking Rufus, Jiya and Mason for their forethought…though he knew, for Lucy, returning to the bunker without Wyatt would only make his loss all the more real and devastating.

He wasn't looking forward to that moment…the moment when the rest of their team realized that Wyatt wasn't coming back…he just hoped that in their grief, someone might be able to help Lucy survive through her own.


"Oh my God, what happened?"

The question, hardly unexpected was all the same an unwelcome one given the circumstances. Flynn knew, even as the echoes of Agent Christopher's voice reverberated throughout the bunker, that reliving this mission was going to be nothing short of a living hell for Lucy and though he knew it was unavoidable, he was determined to do his best to live up to Wyatt's last mandate to him and protect her. Cradling his injured arm, he braced Lucy with his other, silently offering himself up as a source of emotional and physical support as they slowly made their way down the stairs.

"It's just the two of you?" Agent Christopher gasped in horror, staring at Lucy's blood stained and beaten face, "My God…"

Her eyes darted back and forth between Lucy and Flynn as if expecting some kind of explanation, but none was forthcoming. Lucy, because she was still numb with shock and Flynn, because he just didn't have the will to do it. He wasn't ignorant of that fact that Wyatt was a favorite among the team and that his death would come as a devastating blow to all of them. Out of the two soldiers, he knew, that every single person in that bunker would rather it had been him who had died on that riverbank than Wyatt…but what could he do? He had been too late to save him and now, now the team that had barely trusted him to live among them unarmed, would be wholly dependent upon him for their safety and security.

Given their dislike and lack of trust in him, he was sure, in this case, they might just shoot the messenger.

Jiya slowly rose to her feet, her eyes trained on the empty hatch above them, "Where's Rufus?" she asked breathlessly.

Flynn acknowledged her with a small nod as he quietly replied, "Rittenhouse". His grip tightened on Lucy's arm as he explained, "They took him."

"And Wyatt?" Agent Christopher pressed, looking at Lucy with growing concern, "Where is he?"

Flynn flinched at the question, not wanting to be the one to communicate that particular news to the group, but Lucy remained stony face and emotionless, seemingly miles away. Sighing heavily, he frowned before admitting quietly, "Wyatt is de…"

"No!"

Wheeling around suddenly, Lucy laid into Flynn like a fury unleashed scratching and punching him as bitter and angry tears streamed down her face, "You left him!" she screeched, "You left him there!" It was as if a dam had broken, spilling out all of her ragged emotions – her anger, her grief, her despair – gone was her detached stoicism of before – now she was raging…absolutely raging and Flynn was bearing the brunt of it.

He took her beating in stride, patiently allowing her to use him as her own personal punching bag. He could do little else. He had left Wyatt there – it didn't matter that he was dying, that there was absolutely no way to save him, that Wyatt's last request was to get Lucy to safety…he had been the means by which she had ultimately lost him and as such, he knew, she saw him as the immediate cause of her heartbroken despair.

"I'm sorry, Lucy." Flynn said quietly, but he knew she didn't want his apology.

She wanted Wyatt.

By now, the other inhabitants of the bunker were painfully aware that Wyatt was not coming back. Their own gasps and sobs for their lost friend and team-mate, while understandable, only seemed to enrage Lucy more. It took the combined efforts of Mason, Jiya and Agent Christopher to finally separate Lucy from Flynn, each of them gently holding her arms and leading her away from him and towards the kitchen, but she wasn't finished. If she couldn't punch him physically, apparently, she would punch him verbally. "I will never forgive you." she gritted out through her sobs, "How could you…how could you just leave him there?"

"Lucy," Flynn sighed heavily, "there was no way…"

"Then you should have left me." she spat out angrily, "You should have let me stay with him."

"And if I had," Flynn remarked quietly, his eyes cast down to the ground, "I would never have been able to forgive myself." She looked up at him sharply, the warmth and kindness he typically saw there replaced with a cold fury as he continued, "This is what Wyatt wanted…"

"Don't you dare." she warned him dangerously. "Don't. you. dare. He…he didn't want this. He wouldn't…he wouldn't…" her voice wavered as a fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her, "he would never have wanted to leave me like this."

Flynn couldn't argue that point. Certainly, Wyatt would rather not have died leaving Lucy heartbroken and alone. But he had…and Flynn was now convinced that somehow, someway, Wyatt always would leave. The journal, he realized now - had made that evidently clear - one way or another, Wyatt would somehow be lost to Lucy.

Upon receiving the journal in 2014, handed to him by an older, wiser…and clearly more hardened version of Lucy Preston, Flynn perused its pages with skeptical interest – curious about this impressive young woman who seemed to know all about him, his family…and the shadow organization that had murdered them.

Within those pages was a narrative at once disjointed and connected. It was a log, mostly, of various missions through time – the objectives, the historical figures they had met, the events they had witnessed. But there were other things, more personal things – and Flynn, before even laying eyes on this version of Lucy amid the fiery wreckage of the Hindenburg, had reached his own conclusions about who she was, what her motivations were…and what those personal things meant.

He knew, of course, that Lucy was in love with Wyatt…or would be one day. That had been obvious in her entries - but he had always been less sure of Wyatt's love for her. The journal, being solely from Lucy's perspective – didn't elaborate much on his feelings at all. The journal described a man who was protective, caring, selfless, brave, a man that Lucy depended on and trusted above all others…but that night in front of the Hindenburg, Wyatt Logan had defied his expectations. Instead of exhibiting the protective care described by Lucy in the journal, he took a risky shot that could have very easily ended her life.

It had surprised him.

The more Flynn had studied the journal and witnessed the two of them together on these missions, he began to realize that Wyatt Logan was not the knight in shining armor he had imagined him to be. He was, in effect, a man torn in two, battling his own demons. It was clear he, like himself, had struggled with the guilt of his wife's death, it was clear that he was still very much devoted to her memory…but even so, he seemed to have some sort of interest in Lucy. What that interest was or how deep those feelings were, he had no idea. What he did know what that Lucy was ready for him to move on, she had written as much in her journal…but Wyatt didn't seem to want to. In fact, he seemed to resent any suggestion that he even should. In 1972, Flynn had shown him, in Lucy's own writing – the missive she had laid out and instead of looking humbled or even a little ashamed at her rebuke, he looked horrified and angry.

In those days, Flynn was inclined to believe that Lucy was misguided in her devotion to the Delta Force soldier. Love had made her blind to that fact the Wyatt was indifferent to her, toying with her emotions, stringing her along for his own selfish gain…whether it be securing his place on the team, or enlisting her help in resurrecting his wife…he wasn't sure – what he did know from those 22 months of studying those journal pages - or at least, what he had come to suspect was that one day, Wyatt Logan would break her heart.

At first, Flynn hardly cared – his focus was on ridding the world of Rittenhouse and as the journal claimed that Lucy would be instrumental in that effort, cooperative even, he was exceedingly frustrated to find that whatever resolve the older Lucy Preston had, this Lucy Preston was lacking. Her love life…or lack thereof, played little to no significance on what he viewed as the greater mission of destroying Rittenhouse – he just needed to get her to see it. He had to make her understand that it was she who had set him on this path, that they were fated – by her own words- to be "quite the team" one day.

But for one Wyatt Logan.

Flynn was hardly ignorant of the fact that the idea...the suggestion that Lucy would, one day, become his partner in the fight against Rittenhouse bothered Wyatt. He took delight in goading him with the knowledge that Lucy, despite all of her proclaimed loyalty and devotion to her current team, would one day entrust him, Garcia Flynn, with something as intimate and personal as her journal. He could see the jealousy brewing in Wyatt's eyes when he revealed that Lucy was already talking with him in secret on nearly every mission. And there was something else…something disbelieving yet fearful in Wyatt's eyes when Flynn described the woman she would one day become.

He knew, especially after 1972, that Wyatt Logan would never trust him. He also knew that Lucy, more often than not, looked to Wyatt for guidance and advice. As long as her soldier didn't trust him, Flynn knew his chances of getting Lucy to see her true role in all of this – as a leader in the war against Rittenhouse - were slim. Wyatt Logan, therefore, was a menace, a detriment to the mission of destroying Rittenhouse, and as a steward of her journal, someone she had apparently trusted enough to assign it to, Flynn couldn't help but start feeling a bit resentful of Wyatt's interference.

Not just for himself, but for the Lucy Preston he knew she would one day become.

It wasn't that he completely disliked the man…he had to respect him for his bravery, his career…but where Lucy had always striven to see the man he had once been, Wyatt could only see the man he had become. Wyatt didn't understand, as Lucy did, that he had been driven to this. That this war was more important than his humanity.

The two men were astonishingly similar. Both were soldiers. Both of them had lived with the pain of losing their wives, both of them saddled with a lifetime of grief and regret…but in Flynn's mind, Wyatt, despite all of his noble restraint, was guilty…more guilty than he had been of losing his own family. Wyatt had left his wife on the side of the damn road, and yet…Wyatt wasn't a bad guy. Arrogant? Yes. Reckless? Undoubtedly. Hot-headed? Absolutely. But Wyatt Logan was not consumed with a need for vengeance. He was not thirsty for revenge. Where Flynn sought retribution, Wyatt sought justice. Where Flynn sought to destroy, Wyatt sought to preserve, to protect. Wyatt believed in duty and selflessness…Flynn believed only in himself and his mandate to destroy the people who had made his life a living Hell.

No matter how undeserving Flynn may have believed Wyatt was, however, he could see how the qualities he possessed would attract someone like this Lucy. But for his Lucy, the Lucy he had grown to know after 22 months of studying her words – he knew or rather, believed that there was a reason she had given the journal to him and not to Wyatt.

Flynn couldn't come right out and tell her that he believed her love for Wyatt was misplaced and that someday he would leave her heartbroken – coming from him, she would never have believed it and would have resented his impertinence. He tried to tell her that one day she would become even more impressive than she already was, that her passion to rid the world of Rittenhouse would exceed his own. He hoped that someday she would understand that by giving him her journal she had made a choice…that she had chosen him to join forces in this mission over the Delta Force soldier she was constantly pining for.

Yet time and time again, she had deferred to Wyatt's judgement – his care – his restraint.

Frustrated and angry, Flynn could do little more, however, then wait. Wait for the moment when Lucy's trust, her faith in the Delta Force soldier would falter. That day, he knew…he was sure…her meek mannered persona would be cast aside and instead, the formidable woman who approached him in 2014 would emerge, ready to do whatever it took to rid the world of the bastards that had murdered his family.

When he moved into the bunker, however and saw Wyatt and Lucy together…overheard their conversations, watched them as they worked together on missions…he began to realize that maybe…just maybe he had been wrong.

Wyatt's guilt and grief over Jessica's death were palpable, yes…but he was not indifferent to Lucy…quite the contrary. He worried over her and protected her – almost to the point of annoyance. He supported her…even if he didn't agree with her. Her needs superseded his own. In fact, the more time Flynn spent in their company, he could plainly see that, despite his devotion to his dead wife's memory, Wyatt was, in fact, very much in love with Lucy Preston…and, Flynn knew, if he could see it, so too, could Rittenhouse.

And at once, Flynn began to understand and see the danger looming before them.

He tried. God help him…he had tried to tell them both that Rittenhouse would exploit their relationship. He tried to warn them that their feelings for one another would be used against them, the team and present a danger on every mission. He should have known, when Lucy had come to him worried about their plan to bring back Jessica, that they absolutely would. Jessica was Wyatt's Achilles Heel – after all - his sense of duty, obligation, his unending guilt over her death – all fodder for an organization whose modis operandi was centered on manipulation and coercion.

And did they ever manipulate.

When Jessica Logan was resurrected, Flynn suspected then that his Lucy would emerge from the ashes of what had been her relationship with Wyatt. He watched and listened as she selflessly allowed him to go…but even then, with Wyatt gone in pursuit of his wife – Lucy remained…Lucy. She was heartbroken, yes…but she was not vengeful. Flynn knew then that it wasn't just Wyatt he had been wrong about…he had been wrong about Lucy as well.

He didn't know her.

"Lucy," Agent Christopher soothed through her own tears, "Of course Wyatt would never have wanted to leave you. But Flynn's right, he would have rather you lived then…"

"They've taken everything from me!" Lucy screamed, seizing a coffee mug and hurling it at the rusted wall of the bunker as Jiya and Agent Christopher continued to try to console her. The shattered remains rained down on the cold floor - broken, twisted …and undoubtedly hazardous. While Flynn could not help but appreciate the metaphor it invoked, he also understood that this was all part of Rittenhouse's grand plan.

He knew from experience that Lucy Preston was stubborn, willful and stronger than even she gave herself credit for. When she had discovered that her life was a lie - that both her father and mother were Rittenhouse, however, she began to…unravel. Flynn wasn't sure, but he imagined that Wyatt was the one who had kept her grounded in the light of these stunning revelations as her journal named him and only him as the source of her support and strength. To take him out of the equation, to leave her without her greatest defender -was to make her vulnerable, desperate, weak…easy to be molded…and therefore, for Rittenhouse – getting rid of Wyatt Logan was a necessary and brilliant tactical move.

Or it was the biggest mistake they ever made.


Sitting in a dark corner alone, Lucy sat hugging her arms around her knees as her fingers mindlessly tugged at the frayed ends of her dress. It served as her only connection to Wyatt – a conduit of sorts as she thought about how those missing ends were still wrapped around him, there in 1863- holding tight to him when she could not.

He had been the one person left in her life that she trusted implicitly. The one person she knew she could absolutely count on. The one person who gave her shattered life any sense of meaning. Even after 1918, when she had felt so lost, having killed an innocent man to "prove herself", it was Wyatt who tethered her back to the person she once was, telling her that despite having lost herself and her family to the horror that was Rittenhouse, she hadn't lost him.

But now she had.

And what was she going to do now?

Every hope she had stubbornly clung to in the face of so much opposition, every ounce of humanity she felt, any sense of familial connection she felt towards her estranged mother had all died with Wyatt, and in its place there was now a cold, vehement hatred for any one and anything that would dare stand in her way as she exacted her revenge.

And she would get revenge.

She would make them all pay. She would rid the world of Rittenhouse even if it meant she would die along with them. Hell, she would welcome such and end…just as long as she saw them all suffer as much as she had first.

Because what more could they take from her - really?

Her life?

She was already gone. Cradled in Flynn's arms on the shore of that river, she had died. Even as her tears had continued to flow relentlessly, even as she had trembled with inconsolable grief while he tucked her under his chin and rocked her back and forth- the woman who had been Lucy Preston was no more.

She had taken every previous loss in stride, determined that someday she might restore Amy and Henry to their rightful place in her life, clinging to the hope that perhaps she might even save the woman she knew to be her mother – make her see the wrong in what she was doing…but losing Wyatt…watching him die in front of her…that had been a bridge too far.

She was broken…and she wasn't sure she would ever be fully whole again.

She stared at the dark space of the bunker, remembering happier times as Agent Christopher, Flynn, Mason and Jiya discussed the further implications of the mission. Wyatt – dead. Rufus – missing and President Grant was no more, apparently…it was President Porter now…and so, once again, Rittenhouse had won…and she had made it all possible.

But that wasn't entirely true, though, was it?

It was Flynn who had suggested they go to Colonel Porter…not her. It was Flynn, too…who had suggested they split up on that mission. It was Flynn who told her he knew everything about her and her family. It was Flynn who had purported to be the expert in all things Rittenhouse...it was why he had been brought to the bunker in the first place – much to Wyatt's annoyance.

Wyatt, who never trusted him.

As these recollections came to mind, an unholy rage stormed within Lucy who was now turning a pointed gaze towards the man Wyatt had repeatedly warned her to be wary of. With a voice of measured calm, she interrupted the emotional briefing at the kitchen table and called out mechanically, "You knew, didn't you?"

If Flynn seemed surprised or taken aback by her question, he didn't let on. Instead, he met her gaze with a stoicism she found completely irritating and shrugged, "Knew what?"

"You knew he was Rittenhouse." she said calmly, "Colonel Porter?" she added, before spitting out angrily, "my uncle?"

All eyes were on Flynn as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I had my suspicions, yes." he admitted, slowly, before adding with a meaningful nod, "You know I did."

"You're blaming me?"

"I'm not blaming you." Flynn argued patiently, "but Lucy, I did try to tell you that as someone from Grant's cabinet he was…untrustworthy"

"Kind of like you." she bit back, quietly, before adding with total disdain, "I never should have trusted you."

"Be that as it may," Agent Christopher intervened gently, "he's on this team and we need him…now more than ever. We can't overlook the fact that whatever Flynn's former failings, he did bring you back safely, Lucy."

"He should have let me die on that bridge." she muttered mechanically, turning her gaze back to the darkened common room.

Agent Christopher shifted uncomfortably, casting a concerned glance in Lucy's direction as she continued, "Now, tell me more about Porter…he was Rittenhouse?" Flynn nodded in agreement and Agent Christopher sighed heavily, "Well, then Flynn…I have to take up Lucy's side on this – you were brought here to provide intel, why the hell didn't you provide it?"

Once more Lucy turned her gaze towards the table as Flynn shrugged, "We needed an army…eh…we thought we needed an army." he amended, before explaining, "Saving Harriet Tubman was our most important objective…"

"No it wasn't." Lucy interrupted coldly, her voice faltering, "that was never their plan. They were never going to hurt her." She shook her head as new, angry tears formed in her eyes, "It was just a trick."

Lucy closed her eyes and let her tears fall silently down her face as she considered how cruelly she had been used by her mother. Her mother - who knew how important Harriet Tubman was for her, not just as a vital source of information and intelligence for the Union during the Civil War, not just for her unparalleled work in abolition, but for her contributions to both the universal suffrage and feminist movements that emerged in the latter half of the 19thcentury. By threatening the Combahee River Raid, Carol Preston knew that Lucy would immediately believe that Harriet Tubman was their intended target and do whatever she must to ensure her safety…even if it meant using someone else's army…in this case, Colonel Horace Porter, conveniently situated within an hour's ride from Colonel Montgomery. Rittenhouse had set the stage and she had played her part…

So predictably.

Maybe John Rittenhouse was right. Maybe they were all just like the hands of a clock, mindlessly following a set path with only the illusion of freedom and choice. Maybe it was all just completely hopeless – what good would it do to fight back?

What, really, was the point of fighting for anything anymore?

"We still have to find Rufus." Agent Christopher reminded her, looking at her intently with tears swelling in her eyes. Realizing she must have said that last part out loud, Lucy frowned and quickly turned away. She could not bear the looks of pity, she could not stand to see anyone else's tears of sorrow…

It would just make this nightmare seem all too real.

But Agent Christopher seemed intent on trying to reach out. "Wouldn't Wyatt want you to fight for Rufus?" she asked gently, "Wouldn't he want you to not give up?"

"Just leave me alone." Lucy murmured as she pressed her forehead to her knees and sobbed.

Sighing heavily, Agent Christopher turned a mournful glance to Flynn, "I suppose the most pressing thing we need to do is try to figure out where he might be. You say they left with him?"

"They were running off with him, yes." Flynn replied, taking his gaze from Lucy's quietly crying figure back to Agent Christopher. "Whether he was actually brought back with them is anyone's guess. We eh…weren't able to follow them because of the fire…and of course because…" Flynn bit his lip as he turned his gaze towards Agent Christopher and explained quietly, "Wyatt."

Alright then,"Agent Christopher nodded, biting back her own tears as she opened a folder, "I propose we start with the known locations we have from the databases we recovered - there are at least four different facilities – I've marked them here," she said pointing to a map, "that are large enough to house something like the Mothership. If we can send a team to each of those facilities and do a little bit of reconnaissance…"

Lucy snorted and Flynn was surprised to see that she was standing over them, looking down at the map with a piqued curiosity. "Is there something you'd like to add, Lucy?" Agent Christopher asked curiously, looking relieved that she seemed to have had a change of heart. "Have you been to any of these facilities? Know anything about them?"

"No." she replied simply, "I just don't understand why you haven't already cleaned each and every one of these places out…if you had this information, why didn't you act on it before?"

"There are processes…" Agent Christopher began, but Lucy was not interested in hearing any more excuses.

"Processes." Lucy spat out in total disgust. "While we're worried about processes they're destroying history."

"Lucy…"

"They weren't worried about processes when they killed Wyatt." she gritted out, shaking with vehemence, "And now…now, they could be killing Rufus and you," she screeched as she ripped the map off of the table, "you could have raided these places ages ago!"

Jiya burst into tears as Agent Christopher stared back up at Lucy, stunned. "Lucy," she urged calmly, "you have to understand that we cannot just go in there with guns blazing…"

"Why not?"

"Because," she explained incredulously, "there could be innocent people…"

"No one who is involved with Rittenhouse is innocent." she snapped back, sniffing through her tears, "they're all guilty."

"Lucy, that's not true." Agent Christopher reminded her gently, "Remember your grandfather? We wouldn't have been able to take out as much of Rittenhouse as we have without his help."

"Yes!" Mason parroted, hopefully, "Your grandfather was a great help to us. Remember…he presented us with all of those files and names he had kept for years and years." He nodded at Agent Christopher as he added, "at great risk to himself, too if I'm not mistaken."

But Lucy remained unmoved. She stared coldly at the two of them and muttered, "He didn't tell me about my mother. You'd think my own grandfather would tell me something like that."

An awkward silence arose among them, none of them quite knowing how to respond to Lucy's angry and uncharacteristic outbursts…well, none of them except Garcia Flynn. Clearing his throat, he sat forward, his eyes trained on his entwined fingers as he remarked quietly, "I agree with Lucy. We all know that Rittenhouse has no moral objection to anything so long as it gives them power." Frowning, he shrugged, "They know the kind of people they're working with…they aren't innocent."

"While I appreciate your input, Flynn," Agent Christopher huffed, "I hardly think it's helpful to…"

"We aren't ever going to win against them unless we play as dirty as they do." Lucy gritted out, "We need to stop playing by the rules…because the rules don't matter to them. How many innocent people do they kill or just…erase from the timeline?" she scoffed, before adding coldly, "Maybe it's time they lost a few."

"Lucy, you don't mean…"

"Yes, I do." she gritted out slowly. "I hate them all. They all deserve to suffer. My mother, Emma, Jessica…" her voice faltered as angry tears streamed down her face, "I won't rest until they're all gone." Flinging out the map she held in her shaking hands she observed, "We could do it…we could hit every one of these places tonight…"

"No, we could not Ms. Preston." Agent Christopher replied firmly, "and you would not be a part of any mission of the kind." As Lucy made to argue, she spoke over her, "Your grief is understandable…so is your anger…but Lucy think of Wy…"

"Don't you dare talk to me about him." she gritted out angrily. "He got you that information," she spat out, "and you did nothing. We could have…". She bit back her tears and whispered dangerously, "If you had done your job, Wyatt wouldn't have died trying to do it for you. We could have ended them" she shouted before gasping out in flurry of tears, "we could have stopped them…we could have…we could have gotten the Mothership before they even had a chance to bring…to bring her back. We could have known that she,,.she really was one of them."

She was sobbing into her hands now, the map of Rittenhouse's facilities still clutched tightly in her fist as Agent Christopher rose to her feet and attempted to put a comforting arm around Lucy's shoulders.

But Lucy didn't want comfort.

Flinching away at her touch, Lucy barked, "Don't touch me." Furious, she looked around the table, everyone staring at her except Flynn, who kept his eyes trained on his entwined fingers as she breathed out, "You can all sit here and discuss…but I'm going to do something about it." She shook the map in her hand and gritted out, "You just wait…one day, I'm going to make them all pay."


Horrified and shaken by Lucy's vengeful statement, Agent Christopher, Jiya, and Mason watched her retreat to her bedroom in anger after they unanimously and repeatedly refused her demands for immediate action. While they might have been surprised and shocked by this new Lucy manifesting before them, Flynn was not.

He knew her - knew her well…but until now she had only existed in the pages of one very worn and battered, leather bound journal.

The strange, mysterious woman from the future who had given him a glimmer of hope in that run-down bar in Sao-Paulo and her journal that had offered him a vision of a fearless woman, determined, hard, cold and ruthless in her pursuit of Rittenhouse had finally come into being in his present.

Finally.

From the first moment he opened that damn diary, Lucy Preston had always been, in his eyes, impressive. Her brilliance of mind, her calculating plans, the passionate anger that flowed through her pen and onto every page of that damn book…her thirst for vengeance spoke to him, like nothing else had. Her hatred for Rittenhouse matched his own. Her impatience for justice…even if it was vigilante justice…admirable.

For two years he read that journal – studying it, memorizing its contents, desperately gathering as much information on Rittenhouse as he possibly could before the fateful day that he stole the Mothership. After 22 months of being inside Lucy Preston's head, he believed he knew who she was…but from the moment he actually met her by the fiery wreckage of the Hindenburg, he realized…she wasn't the same.

That Lucy was different.

Well, at least she had been.

Th real Lucy, the one not weighed down with knowledge of Rittenhouse or her place within it, was kind and warm-hearted. She had a natural tendency for empathy…empathy that she showed to him on more than one occasion…even when he least deserved it. Even after he had called her expendable, even after he threatened to kill her for standing in his way, she had reminded him that once…once he had been a good man.

That Lucy was now gone, and in her place, Flynn saw the same cold, seething and calculating fury that he knew all too well. Where once there was a light of optimism and hope in her eyes, there was now only darkness and anger. This was the woman who would one day stop at absolutely nothing to rid the world of Rittenhouse -a woman who would literally risk everything, traveling back to her own timeline to ensure it happened. This was a woman whose ruthless tactics made him look like a boy scout, even on some of his worst days. This was the woman he had once dubbed as "impressive"…but now, as he sat musing over this "new" Lucy - he realized - she wasn't impressive at all.

She was heartbroken.

Like he was.

And it made him sick.

It wasn't a lack of faith in Wyatt that had her turning to him with her journal and her trust…it was Rittenhouse. Always Rittenhouse.

He had no idea why she had chosen him of all people. Maybe in some parallel universe, they had found each other, both of them having lost their lives, their loves to those bastards…both of them angrily seeking vengeance, both of them willing to risk everything…even their very lives to end the corruption her family had wrought upon the world. Maybe he told her to come to him…that he would help her…but why give it to him in the past? Why not just fight alongside her in whatever hellish present she had come from?

She had given him the journal in 2014, not long after his wife and child were murdered with the promise that with it, he would be "a hero"…but what was heroic in championing untold amounts of death and destruction? What good was there in someone who murdered without a second thought? There was no satisfaction in what he did…his wife and child were still dead…and even if he had, somehow, saved them…how he could ever face them? He thought about that moment, it seemed like a lifetime ago now…when he found himself in a church, seeking absolution, forgiveness…something to release him from the unholy war he was waging within himself and upon history – but instead of peace, he found himself haunted by the words spoken to him by Jesse James. "You were always a killer, you just needed an excuse."

Maybe Lucy had been wrong. Maybe he was never truly a good man…he certainly wasn't a hero.

Not like Wyatt had been.

Wyatt, whose wife was murdered. Wyatt, who also never saw justice done. Wyatt, who hadn't let his grief destroy him and turn him into a murderous monster. Wyatt, who would have never allowed Lucy to forge a path like that either. Wyatt, who grew to love Lucy enough to selflessly protect her even when he, himself, needed protection

Protection, Flynn thought with shame, that he had been too late to offer.

He hadn't meant to leave Lucy alone on that mission. He was, in fact, trying to protect her. Suggesting she stay back with the ambulances and munition wagons, he thought she would be out of harm's way while he followed Porter's men into battle. When he noted the fire raging in the fields, however, he returned…only to find her missing. Maybe if he hadn't gone off on his own…

Well, it didn't matter now, did it?

Wyatt was dead and now - now he had what he had wanted for three years – someone who was willing to go as hard against Rittenhouse as he was. A teammate who would do whatever it took to see that justice was done. It was fated – at least that's what it said in the journal. A ruthless pair of killers, ravaging their way through time to stop the corrupting and powerful influence of Rittenhouse.

But there was just one problem…

That wasn't who Lucy Preston was. Not really. His foolish desire to see her realize her full, deadly potential had been just that…foolish. After Lucy had reminded him – time and time again of his humanity, after she had ignored all common sense and reason and trusted him when no one else supported her decision to do so – how could he now stand by and watch her become the bitter, twisted, cold-hearted assassin he had first imagined she'd be?

He couldn't.

He would be damned before he would ever allow her to become even half of the monster he had become. He might not have been able to save Wyatt, but maybe...maybe he could save her…

He sat, deep in thought, as the bunker erupted in excitement around him. They had a lead, apparently, a promising lead on Carol Preston's car and Homeland Security was now in pursuit. He hardly cared, however…his mind was wrapped around one particular thing Lucy had said before she had retreated into the cold, isolating confines of her room – that Wyatt might still be alive if they had acted. By seizing the Mothership, certainly, it would have prevented the mission that had proved so deadly for him…but as Lucy so poignantly pointed out…so too, could it have prevented them from enacting their devastating "Plan B" – their scheme to bring Wyatt's wife back from the dead. By failing to act upon their intelligence, gathered by Wyatt himself, it had allowed Rittenhouse the opportunity to gain the upper hand by exploiting a very real and devastating vulnerability in their team.

But how had they done it?

As far as he knew, the murder of Jessica Logan was still unsolved. How then, would Rittenhouse know how to save her?

Yes, he had given Wyatt a name once upon a time…Wes Gilliam, if memory served - but it had been nothing more than a red herring, a ruse to sideline him so that Lucy would be without his protection and influence. In that respect, Flynn mused, he was no better than Rittenhouse, but then again, how were any of them better than Rittenhouse? They had all of them changed history in one way or another, all of them attempting to right some wrong, fix some regret…save some unfortunate bastard from their fate or…" as Flynn chuckled, saw to it that they got their just desserts.

For himself, he was particularly proud that he had killed Benedict Arnold and David Rittenhouse. Not that it had done any good.

Rittenhouse was still a threat. Cutting off the head of that monster had done nothing to stop the spread of corruption, nor the consolidation of their power. They had had centuries to perfect their methods, to engrain themselves in every facet of society – universities, businesses, government…and while he knew it was almost futile to fight against them, he was determined now more than ever to see them destroyed.

Heroic? Yes. But in practice…

Countless deaths – people he had murdered throughout history – some of them innocent – all in his quest for justice had made no real difference to his circumstances or Rittenhouse's hold on their power. His wife and child were still dead, the memory of them the only real tie to humanity he had left…especially now that Lucy was effectively headed down the same path he was.

He had sought vengeance, but vengeance, he knew, was an unsatiated monster – forever bloodthirsty, forever wronged…a sweet morsel, cooked in Hell. There were no heroics in what he was doing, no victory…even if he had succeeded in ridding the world of Rittenhouse, he knew that their destruction would ultimately be the end of Lucy Preston. Whether by her own hand or by his, destroying her family would eventually end in her demise…and he would not and could not be the harbinger of her death.

He couldn't – she had become too important to him. Somewhere along the way, he had grown to love Lucy Preston - not romantically, like Wyatt had…but she had become the only real family he had left anymore. He was grateful to her for her kindness, her empathy…her trust and her forgiveness. She was the only thing left in this world that he couldn't bring himself to hate…even though he had tried.

No, he could never be the means to destroy her – nor could he sit idly by and watch her destroy herself.

Besides, he had promised Wyatt…to keep her safe...and he intended to do just that – even if it meant protecting her from herself.

The irony of it was not lost on Flynn.

How many times had he threatened her life? How many times had he put her in harm's way? Nazi Germany? The Hindenburg? Al Capone? The Alamo? Hadn't he declared her "expendable"? Hadn't he gone so far as to leave her stranded in the 18th century – not giving a damn about her and her team?

And now? Now he was the one person left - entrusted by circumstance – to see that Lucy was kept safe. He, the one who had all but encouraged her to become the very monster he was – unforgiving unmerciful, ruthless and feared – he was the one person left who could save her from that fate.

Wyatt had been right – she never should have trusted him. But she had…she had trusted him enough to give him that journal…and he still had no idea why.

He had never given her any real reason to have faith in him or his intentions. She was right, even after they had broken him out of prison, given him a safe place to stay (even if it was the bunker) – he hadn't really lived up to his end of the bargin.

What intel had he shared?

None that mattered – none that they would listen to…because again, they didn't trust him.

He had goaded Wyatt so much about his wife, that when his suspicions about her return from the grave were aroused, every single one of them in the bunker had dismissed his warnings as another attempt to get under Wyatt's skin. Even Lucy.

But even she, Flynn recalled with a jolt, had tried to warn him too. At least, his version of Lucy had.

In that journal, so disjointed and yet logical, Lucy had gone to great lengths to recall the murder of Jessica Logan – the date, the time, the location – the sordid details of her affair and the jealous rage Wyatt flew into which ultimately led to the fight that left her alone on the side of that lonely highway. At the time, he had enjoyed taunting Wyatt with it, not only for the guilt it invoked in him, but the shame he so obviously felt at Lucy knowing all of the wretched particulars of one of the darkest moments in his life. The perfect solider, her protector, was not so perfect after all. He had inwardly delighted at seeing the horror on Wyatt's face as he showed him Lucy's handwriting, telling him that he was "obsessed with his wife's death" and that he needed to "let go and move on."

But now…now he was just saddened by the tragic futility of it all. Wyatt had moved on…and yet, it had made no difference. Jessica was still permitted to come between them. She had been the means of Wyatt's demise…the reason for his loss…and apparently the Lucy who penned that journal knew she would be. Perhaps that is why she wrote it…her warning was so explicit.

A warning that she had given to him…not to Wyatt.

A sudden realization dawned upon him as he considered a new reason for Lucy entrusting the journal to him. He had always believed it was their shared hatred of Rittenhouse that had compelled her to write that diary and give it to him in 2014 so that he might start this unholy war and warn her younger self of Rittenhouse and their plans. When he had warned her, however, it had made no difference in her objective. She fought against him…not with him. Even after she was finally convinced of Rittenhouse's schemes, Lucy was not the destroying angel he had built up in his mind, constructed from the passionate and angry writings in her journal.

No, she was still Lucy. Sweet, kind and thoughtful, Lucy.

Every setback, every betrayal, every horrifying revelation had done nothing to destroy the essence of who she was as a daughter, as a friend, as a teammate…as a human being. Nothing Rittenhouse did, nothing they forced her to do changed who she was….

Until now.

She didn't give the journal to Wyatt, because she couldn't give the journal to Wyatt. He was who she needed to save…who she needed Flynn to save. By saving him, Flynn would save Lucy from becoming the ruthless, heartless, callous version of herself that existed in those leather-bound pages. She hadn't given him the journal to inspire him to vengeance…she had given him the journal so that he could see the damage Rittenhouse had wrought.

It was a warning.

That hardened version of herself, so different than the Lucy he would come to know, had greeted him like an old friend, telling him that by using her journal, reading her journal, he would be "a hero". She hadn't elaborated on the how…she had left that up to interpretation, but now it seemed, she had been giving him a choice.

Lucy would, wouldn't she? Even at her lowest, Lucy Preston was not a heartless monster. She wasn't him.

He thought of how she had trusted him, with absolutely no reason to do so. He thought of how she had defended him, despite him being guilty of countless indefensible acts against herself. He thought of how she had pleaded with her mother to change, begging her to see reason even when she had repeatedly hurt her. He thought of how, when the prospect of losing Wyatt to Jessica had presented itself, she had selflessly stepped aside so that he could be happy.

She had given him her journal, he was sure now, because she knew that despite his hopes to see her realize her full, deadly potential – he would recognize and understand the danger in it. He was the only one who could save her from becoming the monster he had become…and that in so doing, he would be gaining what he wanted more than anything in the world.

Absolution.

He leaned his elbows forward on the table, his thoughts wrapped up in Lucy, the journal, Wyatt and Jessica even as Agent Christopher and Jiya busily scampered around the kitchen, at once talking on cellphones and tracking the current chase that was now underway between Carol Preston and Homeland Security…and he couldn't help but laugh as his necessary course of action became clearer.

"We all dislike her Flynn," Agent Christopher remarked in annoyance as she held her cell phone to her chest, "But as she is still Lucy's mother…and as she has just lost Wyatt, I don't think you should be taking this chase so lightly. That road is extremely dangerous – the way they're driving they could very well end up in a serious accident."

Flynn, however, wasn't thinking about Carol Preston…or the fact that Homeland Security was now apparently hot on her tail…he was thinking about why Lucy Preston would she be so careful to list the time and location of Jessica Logan's murder in a diary about her missions through time…and Rittenhouse. She hadn't written that for Wyatt's benefit. He would have never forgotten something as traumatic as the day his wife was murdered.

No, Lucy had written that for him…for Flynn.

"I'll be damned." Flynn muttered to himself, as he quirked his lip into a smirk, "Jesse James was right. I was always the killer…I just needed an excuse."

Notes:

This isn't the last chapter. It was just getting VERY VERY LONG and I thought this was a good place to end it...I debated ending it in two other places (one earlier/one that is now part of the next chapter) but I just decided this was a good breaking off point.

I don't believe I have ever written anything from Flynn's perspective which made this chapter really fun and interesting for me. He's such an enigmatic figure...and just the perfect anti-hero (I know I give Flynn a lot of crap, but I do enjoy his character)...and in this fic I really really wanted him to shine as that anti-hero. Giving him the majority of this chapter to sort of reflect and mull over things gave me that opportunity to give him that spotlight.

We're getting to sort through some of the Flynn problem - and as it ends here, we know he'll be going off to kill Jessica...which, is WHY I HAD to bring Jessica back. I know so many people were angry about that - but there was no way around it. We know that Flynn went back to kill Jessica in both timelines...because Agent Christopher has his autopsy photos at the ready when they get back to the reset reality...and he had done it then too. I had to have a reason for him to go back and kill Jessica Logan...and it seemed kind of heartless and horrible for him to just do it because he was "always her killer". There had to have been a reason. So - I brought her back so that Flynn could have his reason - and his reason here is to save Lucy from the same hellish grief he had come to know..and for a reason that will be mentioned in the next chapter.

I hate that there was never really a link between angry journal Lucy and this Lucy...we heard about how impressive she was from Flynn, how ruthless she was...but even with Future Lucy...it didn't really connect for me that she was the same. She was hardened, angry...yes...but I don't know I just always felt like even that Future Lucy wasn't the Lucy Flynn knew from the journal.

There is more to come, and it's 99% done, but I haven't proofed the last half and I'm about to go on yet another trip...so this is me trying not to keep those of you still reading this story waiting. So please, enjoy this installment and stay tuned for the END.

Thank you so much for those of you still hanging in there with this one - I know it's been a long time coming.