Chapter One - "Between Love and Hate"
"Somewhere between love and hate lies confusion, misunderstanding and desperate hope..." - Shannon L. Alder
Unconsciously gritting her teeth at the soft feminine chuckle coming from the nearby kitchen area, Lucy frowned slightly and tried to re-focus her wandering attention on the tablet she held with trembling hands. Curled up in a corner of the uncomfortable bunker sofa in an effort to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible, she forced herself to read the opening paragraph of the JFK article for what was at least the third time. Denise Christopher had given the device to her earlier this morning and asked if she'd mind doing some further research on the Kennedy presidency in the current time line for the agent to include with the latest mission report. That would be the jump to 1934 the team historian missed when the team—that shockingly included Garcia Flynn—was forced to leave her behind while she'd been out of her mind with a dangerously high fever as a result of a serious infection from the nasty knife wound suffered in 1692 Salem...
The mission that turned into a super fun road trip with the newly-reunited Wyatt and Jessica, one full of all kinds of special little moments like Lucy nobly (perhaps stupidly?) talking the blonde out of walking away from her husband...
The road trip that led to an empty hospital room and her old pal Emma holding the business end of a vicious-looking knife firmly to Lucy's throat while coolly threatening in an all too convincing manner to slice it open...
The same hospital room where for several soul-numbing seconds, Lucy found herself unbelievably tempted to quit fighting against the redhead's merciless grip and just be done with all of it-to the point of telling a tense, clearly reluctant Wyatt to 'take the shot'...
In spite of how surprisingly gratifying Wyatt's unmistakable fear for her safety had been during the standoff with Emma-in front of his wife, no less-the warm glow it brought Lucy was usually fleeting, invariably overshadowed by the unpleasant recollection of the Logans' sentimental 'stroll down memory lane' while she stumbled along behind them like some kind of lame third wheel. That had been truly awful to experience-the uncomfortable moment only serving to hammer home the indisputable truth that these two people not only loved each other and had shared a life together for years, but were in fact still legally married in this surreal time line the team had returned to.
Naturally, she wasn't proud of it, but more than once after Jessica Logan's seriously untimely arrival in the underground bunker, Lucy had privately, selfishly wished there had been a random, unexpected malfunction with the lifeboat during her last mission with the guys, something that would've kept the team stranded in 1941 indefinitely. Not the worst time and place to get stuck out of the dozens of destinations the team had jumped to, she mused, warming to the idea.
Hmm...she and Wyatt might've actually begun a real career as "Logan & Preston," and pre-WWII Hollywood would certainly have been a hell of an improvement over 'rustic to the point of being barbaric' 1754...and hey, maybe Rufus could've eventually gone to work for Hedy or something, she reflected wistfully, the sweet fantasy a welcome respite from her wretched reality. But then a deep shame from thinking about keeping Rufus and Jiya apart in service to her own happiness would quickly rise up in her chest. Plus, the very idea of abandoning Amy forever was unbearable. So there was that...
Unable to see any other way to deal with the situation, Lucy did her best every day to ruthlessly swallow her pain and set aside her hopeless love, consoling herself that at least Wyatt's long-standing wish for the miraculous return of his wife came true. No matter how tempting it was at times, there was no way in hell she would interfere with his happiness. That's not who Lucy Preston was.
While by turns comforting and depressing for her to contemplate, however, the one thing no one (not even Jessica Logan) could take away from Lucy was the (tragically) brief, magical evening spent in Wyatt's arms and the few blissful hours they shared before the return of a wife who was very much alive. (And on at least one occasion, a tiny, admittedly petty part of her even hoped the woman had somehow sensed her husband's emotional and physical involvement with Lucy when Jessica was presumed by Wyatt and everyone else to be dead.)
Yes, losing Wyatt was a bitter loss for the woman who'd already had practically everything she cherished in life brutally ripped away from her–Amy; the real Carol Preston; Henry, the beloved father who raised Lucy; her career...all the parts of her pre-time traveling life she held most dear lost as collateral damage in the war with Rittenhouse. And now, that terrible list included the first man, the only man she would ever love.
"You know you really love someone when you can't hate them for breaking your heart." - Unknown
In addition–like all of that wasn't dreadful enough–complicating the not-great circumstances even more at the moment was the increasingly pervasive loneliness she felt that stemmed from no longer having someone to hang out with, let alone confide in. Over the months spent together traveling through time, Wyatt had become her best friend, the person she trusted, felt closest to, above all others now that her sister was gone...but sadly, that was likely no longer the case.
Occasionally, Lucy thought guiltily that Flynn was possibly every bit as lonely as she was, and he might welcome a little kindness from her. Wyatt would be so pissed, her traitorous mind would immediately object. However, Lucy was nearly to the point where she honestly didn't care any more what he thought, especially after her little run-in with him outside the bathroom after the three of them returned to the bunker from the crazy trip to track down young JFK.
Bad enough that being held against his broad chest for those painfully brief few seconds felt like coming home after a long journey (Oh, my, he smelled so good, and God, how she'd missed the touch of his large, warm hands on her body), but even as a flustered Lucy mumbled a breathless apology and instinctively turned away to protect the remnants of her abused dignity, he abruptly called out her name before she took more than a couple steps in the opposite direction.
As a seemingly content (and most definitely clueless) Wyatt earnestly thanked her for talking to Jessica about giving him a second chance, for a few dizzying seconds, Lucy imagined she could actually feel her heart breaking into a million little pieces in her chest. It took every scrap of courage she could muster to smile and respond to him as naturally as possible-all the while dying a little inside-until finally able to escape to her tiny closet of a room and fall onto her cot and cry herself to sleep at the inescapable realization Wyatt was truly lost to her now.
It eventually dawned on her the last time Lucy felt this detached from reality was just before accompanying her mother and Emma to 1918 France after six traumatic weeks of captivity...
Flashback
Standing in front of the mirror, Lucy's suddenly clumsy hands trembled as she tried for the third time to fasten the thin black tie around her neck. Well aware her mother could return at any moment to unlock the door and would no doubt be displeased if Lucy wasn't ready, she felt a sense of urgency beneath the despondency that had been her constant companion since becoming a Rittenhouse captive. Today would be the first time she would be permitted to leave her luxurious prison and accompany her mother on a jump in the mother ship. Where and when was unknown since Lucy wasn't exactly kept in the loop about such things.
Despite her efforts not to, her eyes unwillingly returned time and again to the slightly dog-eared newspaper lying on top of the dresser and the headline that stunned Lucy, filling her heart with fear immediately followed by an all-consuming sorrow from the moment she'd first seen it six weeks ago when Carol Preston casually handed the paper to her daughter at the breakfast table.
"Explosion at Mason Industries, 22 Presumed Dead"
The blunt words that had sent her running upstairs to her room to lie motionless on the bed for hours were never far from her troubled thoughts and still had the lingering power to shake Lucy to her very core. 22 Dead...22 Dead...courtesy of a massive bomb that leveled the facility, the unthinkable devastation stealing the lives of nearly two dozen people. Gone. In the blink of an eye. Just gone from this world forever because they stood in the way of Rittenhouse's plans...
Some of the 22 were strangers to Lucy, while others were the family of her heart. None of that mattered though, not when all of them had been murdered. Wyatt was gone...Rufus and the rest of the team was gone...and she was the last one standing. Hardening her heart against the agonizing grief threatening to devour her, Lucy decided then and there that no matter what the personal cost, she would continue the mission to end the madness begun by her slimy ancestor, David Rittenhouse, in the 1780's-even if it meant forfeiting her own life in the process...
End Flashback
Regrettably, nearly all the encouraging progress a recovering Lucy made in the days after the guys brought her home from 1918–due in large part to Wyatt's endless patience and their growing closeness even before the jump to Hollywood–evaporated when he stammered the words, "Jessica's alive." Her stunned mind instantly reeled at the swift consequences the dead woman's reappearance in the current time line would most assuredly have on her and Wyatt's close, ever strengthening bond. Painfully difficult as it was for Lucy to comprehend how and why—let alone accept—the two of them falling in love and becoming lovers (and maybe eventually something more), was over-finished before it barely started...
During the surreal days to follow, feeling increasingly emotionally (and worse, mentally) isolated because she was unable to bring herself to confide in any of the others, in private, Lucy fought to give a damn about anything. And when she was compelled to interact with the others, like at meal times, it took every bit of courage she possessed to present a calm, convincing facade, at least enough of one to keep a certain ex-lover's suspicions at bay.
No way in hell did Lucy want Wyatt or any of rest of the team (not even Jiya) to realize how badly she was struggling. While secretly recognizing it was quite conceivable she was suffering some form of clinical depression and that keeping to herself as much as possible since returning from the Salem mission was probably ill advised, it truly seemed to be the only way she was able to cope.
She was just so utterly exhausted by this hellish existence she'd been thrust into nearly a year ago...one with seemingly no end in sight. How incredibly foolish and shortsighted the team had been to think they'd vanquished Rittenhouse just because some of them-including her biological father, Ben Cahill-had been rounded up and sent to prison. Now, however, since Carol Preston was calling the shots (no doubt with help from the creepy great-grandfather Lucy had unwittingly helped rescue from WWI, Nicholas Keynes), the evil secret organization seemed to be growing more powerful every day. Worst of all, in her opinion, why continue the 'fight' when there seemed to be depressingly little the team could actually do to stop them? After all, hadn't she spent more than six frightening weeks as her mother's captive and seen first hand just what these insane, power-hungry zealots were capable of?
How much loss, how much suffering, could one person endure without losing their mind or will to live (or both)? she wondered listlessly. Certainly, before the surreal discovery that time travel existed, Lucy was aware her life had by no means been perfect. Just a handful of years after their dad passed away, the Preston sisters were made to witness their strong-willed, intelligent, formidable mother slowly grow weaker from the cancer ravaging her body and inching closer to death as each day passed. Being denied tenure at Stanford for the third time had been a major disappointment for Lucy as well. But at least her life in the original time line had been for the most part normal-ordinary–even. Plus, it still included Amy, the sister she grieved for and missed so desperately.
So here she was, confined to this damn bunker for God knows how long, and try as she might, at the moment, Lucy couldn't seem to shield her ears (or her vulnerable heart) against the indistinct hum of conversation drifting from the open kitchen area where husband and wife were enjoying a cozy late breakfast. Unfortunately, because she'd already been sitting in the communal area when the smiling couple emerged hand in hand from Wyatt's room looking quite relaxed, her options to relocate were fairly limited.
Lucy mentally considered (and discarded) them one by one...there was her claustrophobically small room (a place she could barely tolerate sleeping in), the bathroom (disgusting and not at all practical when sharing with six other people), or Flynn's room (which wouldn't necessarily be that bad but regretfully, would probably invite a whole new set of problems for her to deal with). Nope. She appeared to be well and truly stuck for the duration if she hoped to escape Wyatt's attention.
Mere seconds later, though, she shut her eyes and sighed in defeat. Even doing her level best to ignore everything but the tablet she was reading, it was no use. Because the sad reality was that no matter how much she prayed for a distraction like chasing after Emma in the mothership, Lucy was trapped practically 24/7 with the newly-reunited Mr. and Mrs. Logan; therefore, it was a stupid waste of time for her to wish she wouldn't have to see the two of them together (every freakin' time she turned around). Not only that, but the varying degrees of sympathy she saw on the faces of those around her, especially Rufus and strangely enough, Flynn, scraped at her nerves until they were raw.
No, despite fervent dreams of running away and physically putting as much distance as possible between her and the man who'd effortlessly captured-then broken-her heart, sadly there was no escape...no safe place for Lucy Preston. No, Ma'am. For as much as seeing Wyatt touch Jessica in even the most casual way hurt Lucy, far worse was being within hearing distance of the couple. Every syllable spoken to his wife in that deep, sexy voice tormented her. She was haunted by hazy memories of the same husky voice murmuring to her as he caressed Lucy so tenderly during their one beautiful, miraculous single night together as lovers.
"Love lights more fires than hate extinguishes..." - Ella Wheeler Wilcox
With every fiber of her being, she wanted to hate him. Oh, dear God, how Lucy wanted to despise the man she'd unwisely given her besotted, hopeful heart to...a man who was no longer free to be with her-a man who she once upon a time naively believed might be developing deep feelings for her, too. She would gratefully settle for any emotion right now that might help numb the anguish of discovering her love for Wyatt was not likely returned. Sure, they were close friends who trusted each other with their lives, and he certainly hadn't been shy about being attracted to her. But, unfortunately, Lucy couldn't help but wonder uneasily if she'd naively convinced herself the trust and desire Wyatt had demonstrated towards her time and again equaled love with a capital L and a future together.
Deep down, Lucy was exquisitely aware it was pointless to imagine she was capable of developing a bitter hatred of the man. Probably useless to wish for something that would somehow miraculously extinguish her feelings or at least alleviate some of the suffering haunting Lucy almost every minute of every day since Wyatt had abandoned her and went running off to find Jessica...all of this mess set in motion by a casual text message. A damn text message. Hard to believe that less than 24 hours after returning from 1941 Hollywood and the sheer joy of starting a beautiful new stage in her relationship with Wyatt, it had all gone straight to hell with a single text message sent to his phone.
Suddenly struck by the certainty she might possibly suffocate if forced to remain anywhere near the man she loved and the woman he'd never stopped loving, Lucy's weakening resolve, already hanging by the slimmest of threads, shattered completely. Too far gone in her abject misery to care if her behavior made Wyatt and Jessica uncomfortable or if she embarrassed herself, Lucy abruptly jumped to her feet and averting her eyes, practically ran past them down the hallway.
Rushing into her room and slamming the door shut behind her, Lucy leaned back against it and closed her eyes tightly, ignoring the hot tears sliding down her face. She was the worst kind of fool to think her love and desire...her overwhelming need...for her best friend could be denied so easily. A desolate sigh escaped her as she slowly sank to the floor and swiped absently at tear-stained cheeks. For days now, she'd fought a losing battle to protect her defenseless heart from the inevitable pain that yearning for a married man–one she absolutely couldn't allow herself to be with even if it were possible eventually-brought her. Since Lucy's pitiful efforts to hate him had proved to be useless thus far, all that remained was for her to face the brutal, unflinching truth-it was impossible for her not to be in love with Wyatt.
Oops, sorry, Lucy, you're just not made that way, her heart whispered apologetically in a voice that sounded remarkably like Amy's. Taking a shuddering breath, Lucy wearily capitulated and came to the inevitable decision it was time to accept (if not necessarily embrace because hey, she was only human) the miserable reality of being emotionally imprisoned for the foreseeable future in a limbo somewhere between love and hate when it came to Wyatt Logan...
"...but mostly, I hate the way I don't hate you...not even close...not even a little bit...not even at all..." - 10 Things I Hate About You
A/N: Yeah, my apologies for anyone looking for some Lyatt fluff or a happy ending here, 'cause that's not what this is :/ I rewatched "The Kennedy Curse" a few days ago, and got the idea to examine just how devastated BOTH Lucy and Wyatt were at Jessica's return. We only saw glimpses of their suffering onscreen (mostly Lucy's), and I guess I was in the mood for some angst. Next up is the same few days from Wyatt's POV, a perspective I'm actually looking forward to digging into. NOTE: for those of you following First Steps, I've got around two-thirds of chapter 44 written. My sincere appreciation to everyone still interested in reading Timeless stories, especially those of you kind enough to favorite, follow and leave a review. Thank you :))