Surrounding Darkness

Lucy went through her routine of readying herself for bed like she was on autopilot. She'd been numb since the moment she'd pulled the trigger and killed an unarmed man. However, now that she was in bed, her mind relived being in the Bluffwoods all over again. She'd been trying to justify to herself that Jesse James was a bad person and that she'd done only what history needed to be done, that she gave justice to those he'd killed, that she'd saved more lives by doing what she did.

It was a flimsy argument, Lucy knew that, but it had been the only reason she hadn't broken into sobs the moment the smoke had cleared and she realized that she'd just become a murderer. Because there was no justification in the world where shooting a man in the back who'd surrendered was not cold-blooded murder. No matter how many people James had killed and would kill, she had stooped to his level, resorting to a gun and death when there was always the higher road to take; the road Marshall Bass Reeves had wanted. She cringed knowing that the inspiration behind the Lone Ranger thought of her as a disappointment to humanity.

While going through the debriefing with Agent Christopher when they'd gotten back was horrible. It had been hard for Lucy to admit that she'd shot Jesse James in the back. The room had been so silent it was almost eerie. Agent Christopher had been understanding while giving her a look of sympathy. Lucy felt she didn't deserve that understanding and sympathy. She wasn't like Rufus and Wyatt. She hadn't killed in self-defense or because their lives were being threatened. She could only admit to herself that there was a small part of her which wanted revenge for Grant being killed before his time, for those others who'd been killed since Flynn had saved James.

Wyatt had hardly looked at Lucy since his stunned look after he'd realized it was her who'd shot James. She couldn't imagine what he thought of her now and she didn't want to know. Part of her knew that he was partially blaming himself because he hadn't done it himself, that at the last minute he'd been a better person. It was incredibly ironic she thought. The night before he'd been the one arguing they should betray Marshall Reeves and shoot James on sight and he was unable to do it in the end. He would feel that he'd failed, again, and Lucy was a murderer because of him. It was what he did.

After they'd been dismissed Wyatt gave her a look Lucy knew meant he wanted to talk to her. It was the same look he'd given her when he'd taken her home after eating with Rufus and Jiya. She couldn't stomach the thought of him trying to apologize so she'd practically ran from Mason, Inc. She half expected him to call her or show up at her house but he hadn't. She only felt relief that he hadn't.

Her mom wasn't home when Lucy had gotten there and that was another huge relief. She didn't think she'd be able to look her mother in the eye without her knowing something was terribly wrong with her daughter. And Lucy knew that if her mom asked what had happened to her that she would spill everything with no regard for the NDA she'd signed.

Lucy was staring sightlessly, letting the darkness of the room surround her. Sleep would not come no matter how much she wished for her. She was actually a little afraid to go to sleep, though. Peace from the pain she felt in her heart would not likely happen in sleep either. It had been a day now since she'd murdered someone, and yet she hadn't cried. That probably meant that something was wrong with her. Crying meant you were human, and now she felt like a monster.

Vaguely, Lucy wondered if this was how Flynn felt. She thought that it must be, or at least how he'd felt in the beginning. She wondered if he was used to it by now. No, I don't think so, she thought. If anything, Flynn was most likely just resigned to what he'd done and was still doing. It was in that moment she realized that what she wanted more than anything right then that she wished she could talk to Flynn about this. Or, better yet, maybe instead of talking she would kiss him, lose herself in his touch the way she had in Chicago.

On one level Lucy knew that was wrong. Flynn should be the last person she'd ever want to go to for comfort. A bubble of hysterical laughter almost escaped her at the thought of going to Flynn for comfort. It was such a ridiculous notion. Or it would've been a week ago. The rational part of her brain knew that if she went to anyone it should be Wyatt, but she just couldn't. He was her teammate, her friend, and she couldn't go to him with this. That thought was what finally broke the dam on the emotion she'd been suppressing and sobs wracked her body.

Lucy had no idea for how long she cried. She only knew that by the time she fell asleep with her body curled around itself, her pillow was soaked with tears. She was completely unaware that miles away in an abandoned church, Flynn was listening with his heart breaking for her. She was unaware that he was so affected that he almost left his sanctuary and came to her, wanting to offer any comfort he could, whether it be a shoulder or holding her tightly so she knew she was not alone.

If he had come to her though, Lucy would've gladly, willingly accepted his support. Who knows the possibilities the future could've held if he had.