Chapter 2

A/N #1: While I had every intention this fic would be told only from Lucy's POV (which the first chapter was), once I started writing chapter two, Wyatt suddenly decided he wanted to share his side of the story, too–and it seems the poor guy REALLY had a lot on his mind. There will definitely be another chapter checking back in with Lucy-which will also reveal whether or not Wyatt makes it home to his family...

Unknown location

Northern Syria

"Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear...not absence of fear." - Mark Twain

Jerking awake suddenly from a fitful sleep, Wyatt's heart raced fiercely, eyes darting around the dank, shadowy cave in search of an unseen threat. The hell? Where was he? Not at home sharing a big comfortable bed with his beautiful wife, that was for damn sure. Aside from the quiet breathing of the cave's other occupants, no other sounds besides the gusting desert wind outside permeated the cramped, narrow space-one with barely enough room to hold four grown men sitting or lying down. Privately, he found the eerie silence almost as unsettling as it was reassuring.

Just a dream, then, Wyatt thought wistfully, his pulse gradually slowing as he slumped in disappointment against the unforgiving stone wall. Dear God, how he missed Lucy. Not really all that concerned for his own personal safety (something not to be shared with his wife because, hey, he wasn't stupid), Wyatt considered having to leave her and their little ones the worst part of being called back into duty out of the blue to oversee this mission.

He didn't have to be as brilliant as Lucy or even all that self aware to understand where these particular feelings were coming from. After all, once they'd left the bunker the day after Christmas in 2018, the couple had seldom been apart for more than a day at a time, and usually only when he had a reason to travel for his job with the NSA. Even those routine work trips were somewhat stressful for Wyatt since he greatly disliked being away from his family-and felt strongly enough on the subject that he good-naturedly endured Lucy's gentle teasing about his over-protective nature on a regular basis.

The dangerous situation he currently found himself in was completely different...and about 180 degrees away from merely being physically separated from his wife for a day or two on one of his periodic business trips. Little did Wyatt know that within hours of being called into Denise's office unexpectedly maybe a week ago, he'd be on his way to literally the other side of the world, to a place he'd hoped to never again see in this lifetime. Even worse? Only a few days after his arrival in Syria, Wyatt found himself injured and trapped in an unknown location literally in the middle of nowhere, with zero guarantee of when (or most disturbing of all, if) he would be reunited with his loved ones...

Flashback

Stunned, Wyatt frowned at his superior for a couple seconds before growling, "Syria? I'm being sent to Syria? Are you serious? That's insane. Why me? There's no one else? I haven't been active duty in years. What the hell is going on here? Don't you have any say in this at all? After all, I do report to you," he huffed indignantly, uncaring his tone was about to cross the line with Denise into disrespect.

Having said his piece, he pretended not to see her polite gesture to take a seat and began pacing restlessly in front of the desk, trying to comprehend what was about to happen...how something from Wyatt's past that he'd resolutely put behind him could out of nowhere have the potential to tear apart his happy little world all these years later. After silently watching her understandably pissed-off second in command for a long moment, Denise sighed and turning her attention to the iPad in front of her, skimmed it briefly before lifting her gaze.

"I can see despite marriage and fatherhood, Master Sergeant, you still possess some of that reckless temper I remember from our time spent in the bunker," she observed dryly, patiently giving him a second to regain his composure. "Wyatt, please sit down." The older woman stared at him unwaveringly until he reluctantly dropped into the chair in front of her desk with a muttered apology–or possibly a curse.

"Listen, Wyatt, I'm sorry, I truly am. But whether we like it or not, this whole thing is completely out of my hands. The orders came straight from the Pentagon," Denise informed him sympathetically, graciously ignoring his predictably less-than-calm reaction to her startling notice.

"Apparently, there's a 'situation' in a very remote area of Northern Syria that, as it turns out, is not far from your last Syrian mission, the one you alone survived. During a personnel search, your name popped despite, as you've pointed out, your retirement from active duty in 2019." Pausing briefly to make sure he was paying attention, she went on to brief Wyatt on the few details of the covert mission available to her, glancing between him and the iPad frequently.

Caught off guard by his roiling emotions, a stone-faced Wyatt barely heard the rest of her words. All he was able to comprehend at the moment was his instinctive fear of having to leave Lucy and their children for who knew how long. Before he walked into his superior's office minutes ago, it seemed unthinkable, but like it or not, this was how the military worked-something he was well familiar with.

Aww, hell. Beneath his shock and protective worry for his family, Wyatt understood without even a touch of arrogance that given his particular skills and experience, he probably was a reasonable choice to lead this particular mission. At least he was in still in good physical shape...well, according to his wife, he thought, biting back a wholly inappropriate grin.

Finally resigned to his fate, Wyatt spent the next few minutes dutifully absorbing the last of the official instructions relayed to Denise. A car would pick him up at home in approximately an hour to take him to the airfield where a military transport was on standby. The remaining members of his team were already waiting on him at the Army base in Syria. Standing, his boss solemnly offered him her hand. "Good luck, Wyatt. Come home safe," she murmured. Although a long-dormant instinct made him want to snap off a salute, he merely nodded briskly and left.

All during the drive home, Wyatt kept picturing Lucy's pretty face, his heart aching at the thought of how upset she'd be at the news...and because she loved him, naturally frightened for his safety. Loathe to cause her further pain, he searched his mind desperately for the right words–a futile effort for sure considering the circumstances. Hey, sweetheart, surprise! The reason I'm home early is because the Army has decided to send me to Syria for a while on a secret mission. What's that? Yes, that would be the Army I retired from. But hey, no big, right? Oh, and I'm leaving in less than an hour. Nope, that didn't sound insane or terrible at all. Jesus, what a mess...

Pulling into the drive beside the house, Wyatt turned off the ignition and sat quietly for a moment, preparing himself as best he could to go inside and drop this bombshell on his unsuspecting wife. Glancing at his watch, he calculated little Ethan was probably napping and the girls were still at school. Dammit. He wouldn't even get a chance to tell his children goodbye before the Army escort arrived to pick him up. But it couldn't be helped–he was on their unforgiving time table now.

Better cowboy up, Logan. Squaring his shoulders, Wyatt inhaled deeply and determinedly pushed his emotions down deep until they barely registered before reluctantly climbing out of the SUV. Unlocking the front door, he paused long enough to drop his keys on the small table just inside the door before walking into the kitchen where his wife was unloading the dishwasher. "Hey, this is a surprise," Lucy greeted him happily. "I wasn't expecting you home until the usual time..." The smile fell from her face at his marked lack of response, and she eyed him warily before coming to stand in front of Wyatt.

The next few minutes were every bit as awful as he'd anticipated since Denise broke the news to him. Beneath the emotional stress of the moment, though, Wyatt was unbelievably proud that in spite of the obvious shock and fear he saw in her soft brown eyes as she tried to absorb what he was saying, Lucy was doing her best to keep it together. Actually, on the surface, she seemed somewhat calmer than he'd been. But then, not much shook his wife. Hell, the woman used to travel through time on a regular basis, for God's sake, he mused fondly. From the very first hours of their acquaintance ten years ago, Dr. Lucy Preston had proven her courage time and again no matter what the circumstances, and Wyatt had no doubt she would rise to this occasion also. Was it any wonder he loved her more than his own life?

Mindful of the minutes relentlessly slipping away until his ride arrived, Wyatt forced himself to turn away from his shell-shocked wife and head upstairs, squashing the impulse to stop in the nursery first and hold his son. There simply wasn't time. Immersing himself in the mindless physical tasks of changing into an old set of fatigues and throwing clothes and a few basic toiletries together helped Wyatt keep his emotions under control. Pretending not to notice when Lucy followed him in the room and sat on the side of their bed to watch him in anguished silence helped slightly, too.

Finally packed, he retrieved his dog tags from the dresser and draped them around his neck. Wyatt briefly closed his eyes in pain at the soft clink of the tags. Turning from the dresser, he bent to pick up his duffle bag and wordlessly offered his hand to his wife. The somber couple left their bedroom and made a quick stop in their son's nursery. Standing at the side of the crib with Lucy beside him holding tightly to his left hand, Wyatt struggled to remain composed.

Their sweet little man was sound asleep, curled up on his side facing the wall, one chubby arm wrapped snugly around his favorite stuffed dinosaur. Good Lord, he was so small, still just a baby. Furiously blinking back a tear (or two), Wyatt reached into the crib with a less than steady hand and gently rubbed the sleeping toddler's back for a few precious seconds. Clearing his throat softly, he whispered, "You're the man of the house now, son. Daddy needs you to look out for your Mama and big sisters, okay?" Lucy sniffed at his words and tightened her grip on Wyatt's hand.

They both jerked when a horn suddenly sounded loudly outside the front of the house. Turning to face her, Wyatt frowned and murmured, "The girls..." He grunted quietly when Lucy threw herself against his chest. He greedily inhaled the fragrance of her thick raven hair, trying to commit everything about her to memory.

She trembled in his arms, and after a second, responded hoarsely, "Don't worry about Flynn and Amy. I'll tell them Daddy had to go away for a little while." Wyatt nodded, swallowing hard as he carefully removed his wife's small hands from the back of his neck. He stood perfectly still as Lucy's brimming eyes scanned him from head to toe while openly doing the same with her. Before either of them could speak, the damn horn blew again.

Stiffening her narrow shoulders, his wife lifted her chin and said in a shaky voice, "I think I'll stay here with the baby for a little while because I'm not saying goodbye. I can't. You will come home to us, I know it. I love you so much, Wyatt Logan. Be safe and we'll see you soon." Taking a step back, she wrapped her arms tightly around her slender waist and bravely offered him a tremulous smile that nearly ripped his battered heart in two.

Abruptly tugging Lucy to him for one last fierce kiss, Wyatt forced himself to say the words he hoped would sustain her until he came home, "I love you, sweetheart. Take good care of yourself and our babies..."

End Flashback

Scratching absently at the patch of dried blood caked on his right temple, Wyatt wearily closed his eyes again, wincing faintly at the rough surface digging into his back. While his efforts to remain strictly focused on getting the surviving members of his team back to base safely succeeded fairly well during his waking hours, Wyatt's dreams, however, were another story. His yearning for Lucy, Amy, Flynn and Ethan ran devastatingly unchecked through his heart and soul while he slept. It was like a gut punch every time he opened his eyes and comprehended his perilous reality.

Exhaling harshly, Wyatt stubbornly ignored the throbbing pain in his left shoulder where a sniper's bullet had deeply grazed him during the surprise attack. One of the guys had sacrificed a little of their precious water to clean the wound out before wrapping it tightly enough that with a little effort, Wyatt was able to put it from his mind. Not much else could be done, though, once they'd emptied the contents of the small first aid kit during their first day in the cave. He and the rest of his guys were all banged up pretty good, including one soldier with a busted ankle and another who probably broke his wrist, but at least there were no debilitating head wounds. Thank God for small mercies.

Still, stranded who knew how many miles away from the base without a vehicle, the men's injuries were bad enough that Wyatt was reluctant to set out on foot until they absolutely had to, especially with a dwindling supply of water. Food they could do without for quite some time, but water? In the unrelenting heat of the Syrian desert? He knew from experience that even guys in peak physical shape started to suffer ill effects after three days.

Wyatt tamped down his frustration. While this certainly wasn't the toughest spot he'd ever been in–thanks to his past as both a Delta Force operative and a time traveler–things were serious enough he was starting to get concerned as the days slowly passed without rescue. Large regions of the country were barren and uninhabited, and all the men knew (and accepted) it would take time for the Army to meticulously comb the area.

To be brutally honest, right at the moment, he actually wasn't sure what day it was or how long they'd been sheltering in the cave after losing track on his watch. Not helping matters was the fact each man had surrendered his cell phone before leaving the base to avoid being tracked by enemy forces. Regrettably, this left the team without any means of communication.

The one small mercy to his way of thinking had been Wyatt being allowed to shoot a quick, necessarily brief text to Lucy letting her know he'd arrived before resolutely putting her and their children out of his mind in order to focus his full attention on the mission. All he knew for certain was that very little remained of the water or rations each man brought with him, and it wouldn't be long before they'd all be suffering the consequences of that.

Wyatt wondered bleakly if word of the team's disappearance had reached stateside yet. It was a pretty safe bet it had. Per S.O.P., once a team or operative had been officially missing for at least 72 hours, their CO would automatically be notified. In his particular case, however, his SAC would receive word because, technically, Wyatt Logan was a civilian–though it hadn't seemed to matter when Uncle Sam needed his skills and experience.

He sighed, hoping desperately that when she had received word of his disappearance, Denise herself had broken the news to Lucy in person-and not a couple of strangers in uniform showing up out of the blue at their front door. His heart ached at how terrified his wife must be right now. Wyatt had absolute faith, though, in her strength and knew his brave Lucy would never give up hoping he'd come home, no matter how long it took.

With some difficulty, he ignored the slight flash of resentment that arose from time to time over the past few days. Jesus. Hadn't he already given enough for his country between the years of military service and then freakin' traveling through time to save the world? (Not that anyone outside of their bunker family and maybe a couple suits near the top of the NSA food chain had knowledge of that.)

A pervasive sense of uneasiness had enveloped him the moment he left San Francisco and all during the mind-numbingly tedious flight. When he wasn't napping, Wyatt had pushed down his misgivings and patiently reviewed what little intel he was given, determined upon arrival to get in, get the job done to the best of his ability as swiftly as possible, and then take the first military transport back to the States (and his family). This hellish mess turned out to be exactly the opposite of how things should've gone down.

Yeah, every last one of Wyatt's best intentions had went straight to hell, when unfortunately, less than 24 hours after the team departed the isolated Army base carrying nothing more than their weapons, basic rations, and a set of coordinates, they'd suffered a vicious pre-dawn attack from an unseen enemy. Two of his five team members were cut down in a heartbeat by deadly sniper fire, one in front of his very eyes, before the remaining survivors had fled through the darkness, the explosion that destroyed their Humvee echoing in their ears. Luckily, before the merciless sun had reached directly overhead, the four men had eventually stumbled across a cave. As team leader, Wyatt made the decision to take shelter and wait for eventual rescue, despite the likelihood the covert operation would be classified as failed.

In hindsight, Wyatt considered that maybe it was just as well the team had been intercepted well short of the target location, meaning the mission's main objective was still obtainable–just not by him and his guys. Definitely not one of his finer performances, he mused ruefully. The long-gone Dave "Bam-Bam" Baumgardner, his close buddy and fellow Delta Force operative, would have busted Wyatt's chops big time at apparently losing his previously finely-honed "edge." In all fairness to himself, though, he hadn't been active duty in over seven years, more than content to live a civilian life with his wife and children. So kiss off, Bam-Bam, he grumbled to himself.

His brooding thoughts were interrupted by a low voice a few feet away. "You awake, Master Sergeant?" whispered the soldier whose turn it was to keep watch. Wyatt squinted in the dim light. It was Tyler, the youngest of the five men chosen for the assignment, and the only Corporal who'd survived the attack.

Long buried feelings of guilt quickly rose to the surface and filled him with regret at the loss of two good soldiers. Thankfully, though, he instantly imagined Lucy's voice in his head scolding the hell out of Wyatt in that sexy professor voice of hers. Listen here, Wyatt Logan, you stop that right now...every man on your team knew and accepted the risks of the mission, so you can quit blaming yourself... His lips curved involuntarily in a wistful smile. Damn, but Wyatt wanted his sweet wife right now so bad he ached with it.

Clearing his throat roughly, he answered, "Yeah, Corporal." He nodded when the soldier quietly noted there had been nothing of interest to report over the past three hours. Neither spoke for a minute until Wyatt admitted, "Just thinking about my wife. You married?" he asked in return. The other man shyly lowered his eyes, the blush on his unshaven cheeks obvious even in the dim light as he shifted uncomfortably before responding.

"Uh, well, not married or even engaged or anything, but there's this girl...woman, I guess...anyway, her name is Jenna, and we've been dating a while, but then I shipped out..." Tyler's voice trailed off, and Wyatt bit back an amused smile. God, had he ever been that young? Although he'd met these men for the first time less than a week ago, he liked and respected each one. He was grateful they were a top-notch group of experienced, well-trained Delta Force guys who accepted without reservation a long-retired fellow soldier like Wyatt brought in from outside to head up the covert operation.

Clearly intent on changing the subject from his own love life, Tyler asked, "So, Master Sergeant, you and your wife got any kids?" Wyatt's heart clenched just a little at the innocent question. Oh, how he missed his beautiful son and daughters...for a time, there was silence once more in the cave aside from the soft snoring coming from the other two men.

"Yeah, twin daughters in kindergarten and a son around 18 months old," Wyatt answered eventually, hearing an embarrassing tell-tale gruffness in his voice as he fought to control his feelings. Thankfully, the Corporal didn't seem to notice–or if he did, was too considerate to let on.

"Gee, that's great, Master Sergeant," Tyler replied politely after a moment. "Must have been pretty hard for a retired guy like you to get drug back into the service all of a sudden and have to leave your wife and kids," he observed before falling silent, perhaps worried he'd overstepped with his team leader.

Now that was a huge understatement, Wyatt's heart whispered sadly. Offering the soldier a pained smile, he told Tyler to wake him in around an hour for the next watch. Closing his eyes, he settled back against the rocky wall once more, hissing under his breath at the dull pain in his shoulder. As Wyatt consoled himself with memories of Lucy and their babies, his last thought before sleep claimed him was no matter what it took, he was going to survive this mess and go home to the States and his family as soon as possible. I'm coming home to you, sweetheart, I swear it...and then he mercifully drifted off.

"Courage is being scared to death–and saddling up anyway." - John Wayne

A/N #2: First, I want to give a quick shout out to reviewer 247fangirl for her kind words of encouragement. It truly means a lot to me–thank you! And now back to the story. Wow! I completely got carried away with this chapter–but I do love writing for Wyatt :) My sincere thanks to all those readers who are still interested in Timeless fanfic because I'm still enjoying myself and have no plans to quit writing :))