Filthy, exhausted, and sick at heart, the three member of their ragtag team climbed back into the Lifeboat. As per routine, Wyatt wordlessly leaned forward and secured Lucy's seat belt while Rufus prepped the machine. This time, however, his hands trembled slightly as he buckled her in. This time, he didn't give one of his trademark half smiles and call her ma'am. Instead, he said nothing and avoided eye contact. As Lucy looked closer, she saw that Wyatt looked awful. Beneath the blood and grime, he was pale and his eyes were red rimmed. She felt a stab of sympathy for him. Being dropped into the war had been tough on all of them, but, as the soldier, Wyatt had been in the thick of it. He had been on the front lines, watching as young men died next to him. While she and Rufus had seen their own share of horrors from their position, they were nowhere near where Wyatt had been. Even the most hardened soldier would have been affected, she was sure. The battle had been intense and he was more than likely a little shell shocked. She ached for a way to comfort him, but what words could she say to make it better? She settled on giving his knee a small squeeze, which earned her small nod. Moments later, the dizzying motion of time travel had them hurtling back into the present.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

As they debarked from the lifeboat, Wyatt stumbled slightly. Lucy frowned, but chalked it up to dizziness from the machine and fatigue. When Agent Christopher, flanked by Mason and Jiyah, approached them, Wyatt pointedly avoided eye contact and brushed past them.

"Logan! We need you report." Christopher called after him, preparing to follow. Lucy stopped her with a touch on the arm.

"Let him go." She said quietly. "We can tell you everything. He's done enough today." Rufus nodded.

"Give him some time to get his head right." He agreed. Christopher looked like she wanted to argue, but agreed.

"I take it the mission was a success?" Lucy bit down on a harsh laugh. Success? Sure, they had stopped Flynn from crippling the Allied defense against Germany, but so many had died that even she was beginning to question her stance on historical interference. Shoving those thoughts away, she described the events of the mission, all the while watching Wyatt walk unsteadily out of the room.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Wyatt knew he shouldn't be driving. His hands were shaking so hard now that he could barely grip the wheel and his ears were still ringing from the gunfire and shells. He was just so desperate to leave, to get away from the prying eyes, that he found he didn't care. By some miracle, managed to make it back to his place alive. He parked badly and stumbled into his apartment, where he made a beeline for the kitchen. Bottle of whiskey in hand, he slid to the floor to lean against the cabinets. His whole body was shaking now as the events of the past three days caught up to him. Taking a generous swig from the bottle, he relished the burning sensation as the alcohol slid down his throat. Soon, half the bottle was gone. Just as he'd known driving wasn't a smart decision, he also knew he should probably put the bottle gone. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten or slept and past experience warned him against the dangers of drinking after a firefight. What was it his captain had told him? Alcohol after combat is like gas on a fire. As he mulled that over, he took another long pull.

On some level, he felt ashamed. Why was a highly trained special forces combat veteran like himself losing it after one battle?

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Lucy and Rufus stood uncertainly outside Wyatt's front door.

"I hope he's not sleeping." She said.

"Trust me, he's not." Rufus replied, knocking. They waited a moment.

"Wyatt?" Lucy called tentatively. There was crash from inside that sounded like glass shattering. They shared an alarmed look. "Wyatt? What's going on?" She tried the handle, surprised to find it open.

"Definitely not sleeping then." Rufus muttered as he and Lucy ran to kitchen. Wyatt was slumped against the cabinets. Shards of glass from an empty whiskey bottle surrounded him and his had was bleeding profusely from a large gash.

"Wyatt?" Lucy gave could smell the alcohol on his breath. She glanced down at the broken bottle. "Did he drink all of this?" she asked incredulously. Rufus shrugged and wrapped a washcloth around Wyatt's hand.

"That's be my guess." He said quietly. They were both taking in the blood, mud, and gunpowder that still clung to his skin.

"Alright, come on Wyatt. Wake up." Lucy said loudly, giving him a little shake. Wyatt groaned.

"G'way…" He slurred.

"Not a chance. Now open your eyes." She commanded. After a moment, he blinked his eyes open, wincing at the overhead light.

"Lucy? Why's my han' hurt?"

"You tell us, buddy." Rufus said as he swept up the broken glass.

"Rufus…why's there s'many people here?"

"Because we were worried about you…and with good reason. What the hell were you thinking?" Lucy scolded. Wyatt offered no defense, just a look that held so much sadness and loss and Lucy felt her heart breaking. Her faced softened. "Come on. Shower then bed." Before he could argue, she and Rufus hauled him to his feet and all but dragged him to the bathroom. While attempting to preserve his dignity as much as possible, they helped wash the filth of war from the soldier. Wyatt leaned passively against the shower wall as the water revealed a startling number of bruises. One shaped suspiciously like a boot darkened his chest.

Once they had dried him off, wrestled him into a pair of pajama bottoms, and bandaged his hand, they faced the task of maneuvering him into bed. Just as they started to leave the bathroom, Wyatt paled even further and collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving miserably. Lucy knelt next to him and placed what she hoped was a comforting hand on his back. She whispered meaningless words of comfort to him as she rubbed slow circles. When it seemed as if the retching had tapered off, she turned his face to look at her.
"Ready to try again?" She asked. She nodded to Rufus and, more slowly this time, they managed to carry the semi-conscious man to his bedroom. From a frame on the nightstand, a pretty blonde smiled up at them.

As they laid him on the bed, Wyatt mumbled something. Lucy leaned closer.

"What?"

"Don' have t' stay." She smiled and gently pushed his damp hair from his forehead.

"Well I don't think you should be alone right now. Just get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Once Wyatt was settled, Rufus left to go get some rest. Despite the tiredness she felt, Lucy stayed. She couldn't get that lost, broken look Wyatt had given her out of her mind. In his sleep, Wyatt looked more vulnerable than she was used to seeing him. With his expression unguarded, he looked much younger. She wondered how long it had been since he'd last slept. Too long, judging by the dark, bruise shadows around his eyes. With his uninjured hand clasped in hers, Lucy dozed off with her head on the edge of the bed.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

It was nearly two hours later when Lucy jerked awake. On the bed, Wyatt was thrashing from side to side, his legs hopelessly entangled in the sheets.

"Wyatt?" She placed a hand on an unbruised section of his chest. "Shhhhh, it's okay. It's alright." She soothed. She kept up the litany of soothing words until the desperate struggle calmed. In the moonlight filtering through the curtains, she could see tears glittering on his cheeks and she gently wiped them away with her thumb. "You're safe now." She whispered. After a minute, he passed out again, still mumbling inaudibly to himself.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS

Wyatt awoke to bright sunshine assaulting his eyes. He groaned as he threw back the covers. Last night was a blur, but judging from the hangover, it had involved more than his fair share of alcohol. On wobbly legs, he stepped into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Lucy Preston sipping coffee at his kitchen table.

"Morning." She said with a small smile. Bits of the previous night flashed through his mind.

"Oh God…" Lucy laughed and handed him a glass of water.

"How's the hangover?"

"Lucy, I am so sorry. You didn't have to come. I-"

"Hey," she said, cutting him off, "like it or not, we're in this together. You would have done the same for me."

"About last night…" he began, but Lucy just winked at him.

"As far as I'm concerned, nothing happened last night." Wyatt gave her a small, tentative half smile.

"Yes ma'am."

This started off with a completely different plot, but as I started writing it, this one seems to work better. Hopefully you all enjoyed it!