Wyatt was alone in a darkened upstairs room. A broken window brought in the sounds from the busy street below as he worked tirelessly to loosen the bands around his wrists. His shoulders screamed in pain and his neck was tense, but he knew his only chance of getting Lucy back was to somehow get free.

Jessica and her goons had dragged him from the basement to the upper floors as they prepared to leave on the Mothership. Wyatt had managed to catch one fleeting glimpse of Lucy as she was being shuffled out of the burned out townhouse. She had screamed out for him and he was desperate to go to her, but he was being roughly shoved up the stairs, bound and restrained so that it was all he could do to look her way and acknowledge to her that he was alive and relatively unhurt.

Though he had no clock, he was sure that had been several hours ago. It seemed to be well past midnight. The outside traffic sounds had died down somewhat and the Rittenhouse goon left standing watch over him was snoring just outside the door. He didn't want to think about what was happening to Lucy in the present, but leaving him basically stranded in 1945 was a smart move on Emma's part, he had to admit. It kept Wyatt neutralized and absolutely dependent on their coming back for him. He would wait, he had no choice, but if he could get out of his bonds, he could take out the jackass left behind, arm himself with his gun and have a fighting chance when they did come for him. He was not about to be the reason Lucy sold her soul to Rittenhouse.

"Dammit" Wyatt whispered as the ropes dug and burned into his wrists. He could feel blood droplets oozing their way into his palms as he twisted and maneuvered his hands to wriggle his way out of the cords. He had just managed to create a small amount of breathing room around his right wrist, when he heard footfalls on the stairs.

Shit.

They were already back. Wyatt struggled frantically now, sweat forming on his brow as he bit back the pain shooting through his arms and hands. A loud crash, a groan and thud made him freeze and look sharply at the door in front of him.

Wyatt?

"Rufus?!"

The door creaked open, and there in the dim light from the street lamps outside, Wyatt could see the outline of Rufus Carlin armed with what looked like a crowbar. "Man, am I glad to see you. How the hell did you find me?"

Rufus ushered Jiya into the room, "We've got our own personal surveillance system – did I mention that my girlfriend is awesome?"

Jiya ran to Wyatt and began untying the knots that had him bound to the chair. "Sorry it took me so long, I've never used my visions to locate someone before, particularly in the same time. I could see you, but I couldn't see where you were for the longest time, I just kept seeing the room. I wasn't even sure if you were still in 1945 until I saw a cab drive by this place. And then of course, we had to find it."

Wyatt let out a sigh of relief as his stiff arms were released from the bonds. Pain still emanated from his neck all the way to his wrists, but he didn't have time to dwell on his discomfort, they needed to move. "What about that dick in the hall?"

"He woke up when we were coming up the stairs, Jiya crashed him into the wall and I hit him with the crowbar and knocked him out. I wasn't sure what we'd find when we got here. We saw that the Mothership jumped – how's Lucy?"

"Emma's got her. She and Jessica took off with her a few hours ago." Rufus and Jiya exchanged nervous glances. "They need her - so I think she'll be okay, but I don't want her with those bastards any longer than she already has been."

"Then let's get the hell out of here." quipped Jiya. She was half-way down the stairs when Wyatt heaved the Rittenhouse goon over his shoulder. "What are you doing Wyatt?"

"This sonofabitch is coming with us. He's our best chance at finding Lucy – and I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love to pound his damn face until he talks."

Rufus and Jiya raised their eyebrows and watched as Wyatt carried their hostage down the stairs. "Well, we can add kidnapping to our repertoire now." Rufus retorted, nodding his head at Wyatt. "Glad we can mix things up every once in a while."

When the LifeBoat had materialized back in the present, Rufus and Jiya were met with the combined wrath of Conner Mason and Agent Christopher. Mason, who had only just gotten back from saving Rufus from his deadly fate, was beyond anxious as the hours ticked by. Rufus and Jiya emerged from the Lifeboat to a tirade from Conner Mason, but as Agent Christopher saw Wyatt - bruised, bloodied and pulling someone who was not Lucy out of the LifeBoat hatch behind him, she touched Conner on the arm. "What the hell happened, Wyatt? Where is Lucy?"

Wyatt hung his head, fighting back the tears that were forming in his eyes. "They got her. Emma. Jessica. They jumped us a few hours ago. Took off with her in the Mothership"

Garcia Flynn threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes in frustration.

"Well, who the hell is this?" – she pointed to the man now slung over Wyatt's shoulder.

"This, is one of Emma's thugs – I figured he might be able to tell us where they took her. I can't say that I don't look forward to convincing him to talk."

"Well, I'm glad you managed to bring back another Rittenhouse agent to our safe space, Wyatt." growled Flynn.

Garcia Flynn was angry. He was furious at Wyatt for keeping Lucy in 1945 when it was she who was the most in danger. Emma had definitely taken advantage of Wyatt's selfishness, he thought and if anything happened to her, Wyatt would be the one to blame. Everyone in the hangar waited with bated breath as Flynn and Wyatt stood inches apart, staring daggers at each other. Wyatt wanted nothing more than to punch Garcia Flynn in his smug mouth, but instead, he heaved a deep sigh and closed his eyes. "Flynn, you can stand there and be an asshole or you can help me get intel out this asshole. Either way, the longer we wait, the longer Lucy is with Emma and Jessica and from what I understand, they're going to use her to gain control of Rittenhouse. I don't know about you, but I'm not particularly crazy about the idea of either one of them holding the reins…and selling out Lucy to do it? Hell no."

If Wyatt was expecting Flynn to make another snide comment he was sorely mistaken. Flynn bit his lip, nodded and gave Wyatt a look of resignation. "Alright, Wyatt. Let's get this over with."

They had moved the still unconscious Rittenhouse goon to a large storage room in the back of the hangar. Flynn and Wyatt stood around the man as he lay on the ground, stirring. He groaned as he came to and then began to quickly whip his head from side to side as he attempted to ascertain the totality of his predicament. "What th-"

"Rise and shine, dickhead." Wyatt barked, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned over to look into the face of his one-time captor.

The Rittenhouse agent glared back at him. "Go to hell."

Flynn picked up the bound man from off the floor and slammed him into the wall. "You'll get there first if you don't give us the information we're looking for." He let the man drop down with a crash and there was a sickening crunch and a scream, sounding suspiciously like his arm had just broken.

As he lay writhing in pain, still bound on the floor, Agent Christopher entered the room and gasped. It was the first time she had seen their unintended guest clearly since Wyatt had brought him off of the Lifeboat. She crouched down beside him and grabbed his face. "Jensen?"

"Ma'am" he returned with a grimace

Agent Christopher pulled out her gun. "No wonder we had no advance warning of that raid on the bunker, it was an inside job."

Flynn and Wyatt exchanged quizzical looks, their combined voices echoed their confusion. "What?"

"Jensen here was part of the team that was assigned to protect the bunker. Thompson was our lead and he and some fine men were killed, no doubt by this traitorous sonofabitch. Jensen, here survived and gave me report, claiming that he was knocked out and had somehow survived the onslaught without so much as a damn scratch."

"Who the hell are you?" asked Wyatt dangerously as he stepped gingerly on Jensen's wounded arm.

A scream of pain and some more writhing followed by a myriad of curses rang through the storage room. Flynn made to pick him up again when Jensen relented, whimpering in pain. "I'm Rittenhouse security." He spat out angrily. "I was tasked with watching over Lucy Preston 17 years ago when she started college."

"What the hell are you talking about? Lucy has never had a security detail." Wyatt spat out.

"Not one that she ever knew about. You think Rittenhouse was just going to let her run off to college without someone looking out for her? I kept my distance. She never suspected - ever. Not even when I pulled her out of that car."

Wyatt's eyes darted up, his face became stony and he couldn't help but shudder as he remembered that conversation with Lucy in 1944. He could hear her voice resonate within his mind as he recalled the panic etched all over her face as she recounted her brush with death and her subsequent battle with claustrophobia.

The water was rushing in so fast. I thought to myself, 'This is it'. Someone just happened by and pulled me out.

Wyatt breathed out a curse. He got dangerously close to Jensen's face. "If you're supposed to protect her then why the hell have you been trying to kill her?"

Jensen laughed until Wyatt made to hit his broken arm, "No, no..please." He breathed. "My assignment to protect her was resigned two years ago when she began to work actively against Rittenhouse. Instead, I was assigned to her mother. When the details of that mission in 1888 came forth, I was told to position myself over the bunker once it was discovered that Emma Whitmore had terminated Carol Preston and Nicholas Keynes. With Jessica Logan in possession of the knowledge of the bunker's location, we knew it was just a matter of time before Emma attempted to infiltrate. Protecting Lucy Preston became a matter of necessity."

Agent Christopher tilted her head towards Jensen, "So if you were working for Rittenhouse leadership to protect Lucy Preston, then why were you with Emma Whitmore?"

Jensen sighed in annoyance. "I told you, my role in Rittenhouse is security. Emma doesn't know in what capacity I serve in that role. She only knew that I had an opportunity to be picked for the bunker security team, and from there, it was easy to gain her trust. I promised her access to the bunker in return for a position on her team. Acting as a double agent within Rittenhouse to keep tabs on Emma Whitmore, especially after she murdered our superiors on a time jump became as much of a priority as protecting Lucy Preston. In this sense, I fulfilled both roles.

"Except you lied to me and your peers at Homeland Security – you were a damn triple agent. Tell me why I shouldn't just throw you in a black site right now." Agent Christopher was fuming.

"Ma'am, I swear – Rittenhouse's objective here is not to harm Lucy Preston or any of you. We are trying to neutralize the very real threat of Emma Whitmore."

Flynn snarled, "She's a threat because she wants to kill all of you bastards and replace you with grunts like her, is that it?" He was pacing now, his hands in his hair. "Maybe Emma has got the right idea – rain down destruction on you assholes who think you can run everyone's lives."

Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you really think Emma would be any better, Flynn? They're two sides of the same damn coin. Emma's ambitious – she wants the glory – but her objectives are the same. World domination, manipulation, lies."

"No, that's not all we –"

Wyatt cut him off looking at him doubtfully. "Why the hell should we believe anything you say? I saw you drag Lucy off, didn't seem like you were protecting her then. Didn't seem like you weren't trying to harm us as you chased us down and dragged us through the streets."

"You think Emma would hesitate to kill me if she suspected that I weren't absolutely on her team? Look, I know you have no reason to trust me, but I want to help you. When Emma ordered me to stay behind, it made me uneasy."

"Why?" Wyatt said with a little too much force, his arms still crossed over his chest.

"Because despite what Emma has said about needing Ms. Preston safe and alive, once she gets what she wants, she won't hesitate to kill her…and she's already planning on it. I overheard the conversation she had with Jessica right before they left in the Mothership – which, is why I think, she left me behind. I wasn't supposed to hear."

"Hear what?" Agent Christopher breathed out.

"That whenever she gets the support she needs from the leadership, they will have to make Lucy's death will look like a suicide." Jensen looked at Wyatt. "The plan was to kill you and then overdose her on anti-psychotic meds."

Wyatt breathed out a curse. "Let me guess," he said softly. "Risperidone"

"How did you –"

Wyatt didn't answer. He just shook his head in disbelief. Jessica had blurted out the name of that anti-psychotic on that mission to find Kennedy. Looking back in hindsight, that should have been a red flag, but he had overlooked it. Now, if what Jensen said were true, she was going to use those drugs on Lucy. I'm not their hostage anymore – they can't use me as leverage against her. Wyatt breathed out a sigh of relief. But then a sudden dread filled him.

But they don't necessarily have to - according to the world, I'm already dead.

Agent Christopher exchanged glances with both Garcia Flynn and Wyatt. Flynn looked somewhat skeptical of Jensen's information. Wyatt, for all that he had just gone through with the duplicity of his Rittenhouse spy of an ex-wife, felt like he should be doubtful of the weight of Jensen's claims. Rittenhouse was not to be trusted, but what could they do? Lucy's life was hanging in the balance and this was their only lead. Agent Christopher knelt in front of their captive and untied his bonds, helping him sit up as she did so. He groaned as he sat upright, nursing his broken arm. "Let's say we believe you, Jensen – how can you possibly help us when Emma thinks you are in 1945?"

"I can tell you where Emma is planning on taking Lucy."

Lucy stood outside of her childhood home in the cool mist of the morning. It had been two days since she was taken from 1945, taken from Wyatt. The weight of the keys in her hands felt oddly heavy as she stood there bracing herself for the onslaught of emotions that were sure to come when she entered her mother's house. Two years ago, an agent knocked on her door and sent her life on a completely different road than she could have ever imagined. Two years ago, she looked behind her as she walked down this very path and caught one last glance at her sister, who was now erased from history. Two years ago her mother had been dying of cancer and Rittenhouse hadn't even been a blip on her radar. "What are you waiting for?" Emma's snide voice called out from behind her.

Lucy took a shuddering breath and stepped slowly up onto the front stoop. Her hands shook as she fit the key in the lock and turned the doorknob. As she stepped into the foyer, she was struck with a million memories. Most of them happy, but now all, tinged with a sadness that was indescribable. Everything was tainted now. Rittenhouse had seen to that. Lucy touched the banister of the staircase, her foot on the first step and suddenly she remembered the night Wyatt had come to her, telling her of his plan to steal the Lifeboat to save Jessica. How strange it was that Jessica was now standing in almost the exact same place he was when he had said that getting her back would have all been worth it. After the last few months of pain and grief, she was fairly certain that Wyatt would not feel that way now. "Nice digs." Jessica said with a smirk as she held a large box in her arms.

Lucy didn't answer. She was far more concerned with the gun that was now pressed to her back guiding her up the stairs. Lucy entered her mother's room and walked over to the desk, Emma and Jessica flanking her. Lucy sought the key to open the locked file drawer. "What exactly are we looking for?" she asked.

"Your family records." Emma said shortly. "I want to be damn sure you're actually the last of your kind, before I commit to anything. I'd hate to miss the opportunity of killing you only to find out there's some David Rittenhouse descendant cousin waiting in the wings."

Lucy pulled out a large binder from the drawer marked "Keynes." This was the line that sent her all the way back to David Rittenhouse, himself. She shuddered at the thought and handed the binder over to Emma. There were two more folders in the drawer, one marked Preston and another which simply said "Lucy." Curious, Lucy pulled out the Preston folder. Her grandfather was also Rittenhouse, apparently. She flipped through pages of genealogical history and found that the Preston's and the Cahill's were both distant cousins of David Rittenhouse – not direct descendants, but close enough. She had figured as much, given the whole blood line mania. She imagined all of the blood line families were related in some way or another.

She sighed as she picked up the folder marked with her name. She opened it with distinct curiosity, she had no idea this binder even existed. Yet here it was, locked away in her mother's drawer. She slowly flipped it open to find a record of her birth followed by pages and pages of notices recording every achievement she had made, every award she had won, and every honor that was bestowed. Lucy soon caught herself crying as she drifted her hands over photos and notes handwritten by her mother.

"What are you sniveling about?" scoffed Emma as she pored over the Keynes' family history ledger. Jessica smirked in Emma's direction. The two of them sitting so casually on her mother's bed after their involvement in her death, made Lucy blind with rage. Tears fell down her cheeks as she remembered her mother lying in bed, sick with cancer. Amy sitting in the chair by her bedside, which now sat, poignantly empty. Lucy suddenly felt very alone. This house with so many memories of Amy and her mother before Rittenhouse and she was the only one in the world who remembered them the way they used to be.

Lucy sniffed as she flipped to the last few pages of her personal album when she found herself looking at her own family tree. As a child, she had always had Henry Wallace and Amy on ones that she had made, but of course, in this timeline, they had never been a part of her life. Her mother had organized this personal genealogy for her daughter and it struck Lucy for the first time, really, that Benjamin Cahill was actually her father. Seeing his name listed there unsettled her in a way that she hadn't expected. After all, she knew that he was her father. She had talked with him, gone to his home. But somehow, seeing it listed in black and white just above her name made it more official, than it had ever been.

Next to Benjamin Cahill's name there were two other women listed and under them, children. Lucy's eyes widened. These would be her siblings, wouldn't they? She knew that Ben Cahill had a son, she had met him that day at the door when she first approached him about being her father. Ethan, she saw, was his name. After his grandfather she thought fondly. Then there was Carol Preston, who had Lucy. But there was one other, a Maria Thompkins and she had also had a son born in 1975, but no other information was given. The entry bothered Lucy and she wasn't sure why. Maria Thompkins sounded so familiar but she couldn't place it.

Emma was watching Lucy and must have seen her furrowed brow deep in concentration. "What's the matter princess?"

"Nothing", Lucy stated quickly. She made to close the book, but Emma snatched it out of her hands.

"Oh, look – Daddy Cahill. You know, he recruited me personally?" Lucy feigned interest, she really didn't care about Emma's rise to Rittenhouse glory. "That was his job in Rittenhouse. He was good at making connections and placing people with the right talents in the right areas."

Lucy nodded and rolled her eyes.

"You know he told me that Rittenhouse ordered your conception? Two prominent pure-blood families producing an heir – talk about romance – you were bred like a pedigree bitch." Emma and Jessica both laughed as Lucy flushed in anger. "But looks like poor Ben had to break off his love affair with Maria Thompkins to do it. Tsk tsk. Do you know, she was the first female recruit for Rittenhouse?"

Lucy's curiosity really was piqued this time. "Who was she?"

Emma looked up at the ceiling, "I can't really remember the details. She was brilliant, though – ahead of her time. An engineer. In fact, I believe Conner Mason used some of her designs for the LifeBoat. I remember seeing her name credited on some of the concept plans."

Lucy looked around the room, her brain working hard to remember why that name meant something to her. She knew it and it was driving her crazy. Her eyes fell on the large box carried into the house by Jessica. She got up from her mother's chair, both Jessica and Emma kept an eye on her as she walked slowly to the dressing table where it lay partially open. This box contained her mother's effects from Rittenhouse Headquarters – the last things she had in her possession before Emma murdered her. Lucy lifted the lid the rest of the way from the box and gave a little sob as she was met with a large photo of her and her mother in happier times. She wondered as she stared at the picture whether that version of herself knew about Rittenhouse – her mother had said she had changed so much when she had gotten back from the Hindenburg – maybe her other self was fundamentally different. Maybe that's why her mother couldn't understand her resistance to the idea of all of this. Lucy removed a few books, some jewelry, a sweater, and then her eyes fell on something that immediately filled her with dread.

The journal.

She picked it up slowly and opened the black leather bound book stamped in gold with an LP. She had written down her memories of those first few missions during the six weeks that she was a prisoner at Rittenhouse. Believing she had lost Rufus and Wyatt, she had absent-mindedly recorded her memories of those missions and what they meant to her. Her relationship with her team. It was the only way she could cope with the thought of them being dead – they could live on in her journal.

She hugged it tight to her chest as she realized that now, once again, she found herself separated from them. She thought of Wyatt stuck in 1945 and a pang of despair hit her so hard, she nearly crumpled to the floor in agony. She quickly flipped through their different missions until she reached her last entry, staring at a book that was now only one third completed. She wondered suddenly what had become of the finished journal that Garcia Flynn had given her before he was arrested, the journal that had started this whole mess and spurred him to steal the time machine in the first place.

Poor Flynn. Rittenhouse had killed his wife and daughter and all he wanted was to get them back. He had terrorized them so much during that first year, trying to convince them of Rittenhouse's existence, but they didn't listen. Not until Rittenhouse had taken over, not until they tried to get Lucy and Rufus to jump to Houston in 1962 to murder –

"Oh my God" Lucy cried as the journal dropped from her hands.

Jessica and Emma shot looks over in Lucy's direction. "What now?" they both asked with pointed annoyance.

But Lucy didn't answer them. She didn't even hear them. She had collapsed onto a chair, her head in her hands, breathing heavily.

She knew who Maria Thompkins was now.

Wyatt had met her in 1969.

She was Garcia Flynn's mother.

Garcia Flynn was Benjamin Cahill's son.

And that meant he was Lucy's half-brother.