The team travels to 1793 and is forced to contend with an enemy they can't fight with fists or firepower.

It was late by the time they had finished thwarting Flynn's latest attempt at destroying fledgling America. Despite the fact that Flynn had escaped, they were all relatively pleased with themselves. After all, not everyone could say that they had saved the lives of the founding fathers. In the growing darkness, they decided to wait until morning to head back to the Lifeboat. They had landed quite a distance from Philadelphia and it would be a full day's walk back. Exhausted, they used the coins Mason had provided them with to rent a room at an inn under the guise of a married couple and their slave. Rufus, none too happy about the arrangement, quickly forgot his complaints has threw himself onto the small sofa. Within a few minutes, he was asleep. Lucy laughed softly, then turned to Wyatt.

"Ummm, could you…turn around for a moment?" She asked shyly, holding up the night gown the innkeeper's wife had lent her. Wyatt nodded.

"Sure thing…ma'am." A small smile tugged at his mouth. Lucy frowned.

"You okay?" She asked. Wyatt was pale and a fine sheen of sweat covered his skin.

"Yeah, just beat. Get some rest, Lucy." With that, he laid down and closed his eyes. A moment later, his breathing evened out and an occasional soft snore escaped his lips. Lucy smiled fondly down at him. The more they worked together, the more she came to like him. Beneath the gruff and cocky soldier façade, she'd come to realize that there was a lot more to Wyatt Logan.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

Lucy awoke to the sound of harsh coughing from the other bed. In the early morning light that had begun to filter through the curtains, she could see Wyatt's huddled form beneath the blankets. He coughed again, a wet and painful sound. She quickly walked over to his bed and gasped. Wyatt lay shivering in a tangle of sweat soaked blankets. His cheeks, flushed with fever, stood out in sharp contrast to his ashen skin.

"Wyatt?" She placed a hand on his forehead and was startled by the intense heat radiating off of him. Moaning softly, he leaned into her touch. "Wyatt? Can you hear me?" When he didn't respond, Lucy picked up a pillow and threw it at the sofa.

"Wha'?" Rufus muttered sleepily as the pillow hit him in the face.

"Rufus, Wyatt's sick." In a moment, Rufus was at her side, staring down at Wyatt.

"He was fine yesterday. What the hell happened?" Lucy bit her lip, an awful thought occurring to her. Rufus noticed and met her eyes. "Lucy? What is it?"

"I'm…I'm not a doctor, but…"

"But what?" She took a deep breath.

"In 1793, there was a massive yellow fever outbreak in Philadephia. Over five thousand people were killed."

"You don't think…."

"I don't know, but I don't want to take a chance. We need to get him back to the present now." She said, wetting a cloth in the small basin of water in the corner of the room. She laid the cloth across Wyatt's forehead. "Watch him while I go talk to the innkeeper. Maybe they'll lend us a horse or something. Try to get his fever down."

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

Rufus looked up at Lucy hopefully as she walked back into the room. The last half hour with Wyatt was scaring him more than he'd like to admit. In all that time, he hadn't been fully conscious. Occasionally he mumbled something nonsensical to himself as he tossed his head restlessly from side to side.

"He said that he could have a horse and wagon for us in about an hour. I fed him some story about taking Wyatt to stay with family near Jenkintown. He gave us this," she said, holding up a jug of water, "and told us to make sure he drinks enough." She came and perched on the edge of the bed, gently pushing Wyatt's damp hair from his forehead. As she did so, he blinked his fever bright eyes up at them.

"Hey, I think he's coming around." Rufus said, replacing the cloth on Wyatt's forehead.

"Wyatt? You with me?" Lucy asked, taking his clammy hand and giving it a little squeeze. He blinked slowly a few times, struggling to focus on her.

"Lucy? What's…where?" He voice was hoarse and barely louder than a whisper.

"Shh, it's alright. We're in Philadelphia, remember? You got sick. We're gonna get you out of here soon, okay?" She said, giving what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "Do you think you could drink a little water?" He nodded weakly. Rufus helped him into a semi-sitting position and Lucy held the bottle to his lips. After a few sips, he turned his head away.

"Just a little more. You need to stay hydrated." Lucy coaxed, but Wyatt shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

"Hurts…" He whispered. He gasped and tried to curl in on himself.

"What hurts? Is it your stomach? Wyatt?" A moment later, he was leaning to the side and losing what little water he had managed to drink. When he had finished, he lay exhausted and panting on the bed. Lucy and Rufus shared a terrified look.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

With the help of the innkeeper, they managed to carry Wyatt to the small covered wagon parked in front. As they settled him in, the innkeeper squeezed Lucy's shoulder gently.

"He'll be alright, Mrs. Logan. The country air should have him well in no time." He said kindly. Lucy thanked him and sat down next to Wyatt. She nodded to Rufus who, using skills he had only just learned a week previous, steered the horse through the winding streets. In the back of the wagon, Lucy held Wyatt's hand as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Periodically, she wet another cloth and mopped his brow and tried to give him small sips of water. While the historian in her was fascinated by everything around her, concern for Wyatt was at the forefront of her thoughts. Glancing down, she was surprised to see a pair of hazy, half-lidded blue eyes watching her.

"Hey." She said softly, rubbing a thumb over his cheek.

"Hey." His voice was weak and barely audible.

"We're almost back to the lifeboat. We'll get you home soon." She promised. Wyatt didn't say anything for a minute. Then,

"You guys…okay?" He asked, clearly struggling to put his thoughts together.

"We're fine, just worried about you." Lucy said with a small smile.

"Don' need t' worry…be okay." He mumbled, his eyes closing again.

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

The rest of the ride passed for him a feverish blur. Lucy's heart broke as she watched Wyatt murmuring to himself. Near the end, he began calling out desperately for his wife.

"Jessica…please, Jess…Jess…"

"Shhh, just rest, Wyatt. We're almost home." The words felt useless, but what else could she say to a man hallucinating his dead wife?

When at last they reached the Lifeboat, she and Rufus hauled his limp form into the machine. Together they managed to get him into the chair. Coughing, Wyatt sagged against the seatbelt, the only thing holding him upright. Lucy turned to Rufus.

"Let's go home."

TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS – TIMELESS –

After nearly three days, Wyatt finally seemed to be turning the corner. Lucy sat in the chair next to his hospital bed, trying to keep her eyes open. Staring off into the dimly lit room, she thought about just how close they'd come to losing him.

After they'd landed in the present, there had been a desperate rush to get him to a hospital. Both Wyatt's breathing and heartrate had plummeted and as they pulled him form the machine, blood began trickling from his nose. Lucy and Rufus had tried to follow, but they were quickly quarantined. They had spent a full day getting every sort of test possible run. Eventually, the doctors had cleared them, but neither went home. Instead, they'd gone straight to Wyatt's room. While still sick and weak, Lucy was happy to see that he looked at least a little better. His fever was lower and the IV fluids and antibiotics seemed to be doing their job.

A sudden noise drew her attention back to the bed. Wyatt's eyes were half open and he was fumbling with the oxygen cannula beneath his nose.

"Hey, leave that alone." She said, taking his hand and lowering it gently to his side. "You still need that." He squinted up at her, confusion written clearly on his face.

"Lucy?"

"Welcome back." She said with her first genuine smile in days.

"Where'd I go?" He asked groggily, his eyes darting around the room. "Hospital?"

"What do you remember?" Wyatt thought for a moment.

"We stopped Flynn and decided to stay the night in Philly…that's all I got."

"You got sick. Yellow fever. Doctors said we were vulnerable because our immune systems had never been exposed. That night in the motel, you're fever spiked. We barely got you back here in time." She explained. He took a moment to process it all.

"You and Rufus…did you guys get sick?" He asked, eyes casting around for the third member of their team. Lucy shook her head.

"Just you, I'm afraid. We were quarantined for a while, but they cleared us. We've been here ever since. Rufus is on a coffee run." Wyatt looked stunned.

"You didn't have to stay." He said quietly, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the sheets. Lucy squeezed his arm and he met her gaze.

"We're a team. We stick together. It's what we do. We're not leaving you any more than you're leaving us."

Just a little side note, I am not a doctor. Google told me a bit about Yellow Fever and I used creative license to come up with the rest. I apologize for any medical inaccuracies!