Loss

Garcia walked down the hallway to his room feeling the lowest he had been for a long time. His shoulder hurt. His arm hurt. His whole fucking body hurt but most of all his heart hurt. Not since he had lost Lorena & Iris had he felt this bad. Everything, he had almost had everything. Lucy had looked to him. Had seen something of the man he used to be and started to welcome him into her life. She gave him her trust, her thoughts, her kisses. She would have given him her body had he not stopped her. She spent two beautiful nights in his arms. He had felt more peace and happiness than he ever thought he would find again. Experienced caring, compassion, and love; but all that was over now. It had been over from the second Wyatt Logan had uttered "Lucy, I love you." Future Lucy and future Wyatt arriving together had only served to confirm it. Still, he knew he wouldn't change a moment of the time he had spent with her even though it had led him to this.

God he was tired and heartsick. The only thing on his mind was getting to his room, getting that bottle of vodka, and getting shit-faced drunk. He was going to drink until his mind, his body, and his fucking heart, were numb. He kicked open his door and practically fell to his knees at the sight before him. Lucy. His wonderful, beautiful, precious Lucy. She was there; wearing one of his shirts, wrapped in his blankets, lying in his bed fast asleep. Oh, thank God! Her exquisite face was so pale, marred by the cuts and bruises left from Emma's attempt to beat her to death, yet she looked so peaceful.

Softly, so as not to wake her, Garcia shut the door. He pulled the chair over to the bed, grabbed the vodka, and sat. He took a long pull off the bottle and just watched as his ljubavi slept. She had become his everything and it would take him some time to come to grips with the fact that he hadn't lost her to Emma's brutality and maybe not to Wyatt's love. Please, please don't let me lose her.

He longed to crawl into bed beside her and pull her into his arms but if she was some figment of his grief stricken, lovesick imagination he didn't want to know it tonight. He would watch her sleep and guard her from the nightmares that were sure to come. He took another pull on the bottle as he thought about the nightmares he would face if he closed his eyes. It started with finding her in that photography studio in Chinatown after her mother's death and ended either with her death or in a dank bunker hallway with Wyatt's confession.

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Chinatown, San Francisco 1888

When Garcia and Wyatt followed Emma and Jessica out of the photography studio, Lucy had been on her knees trying to staunch the flow of blood from her mother's wounds. The scene that he returned to was quite different. He was still peering out from behind the curtain covered doorway to make sure that he hadn't been followed when he heard her voice.

"Where's Wyatt?"

Wyatt, it was always fucking Wyatt. "We split up."

At her look he offered her some minimal reassurance.

"Relax, even I couldn't kill Wyatt if I wanted to, and I want to."

Seeing no sign of either bitch, the red headed one or the blond, Garcia let the curtain fall back and turned to face Lucy for the first time since re-entering the studio. What he saw made his heart stop. Not even that morning had he seen her look so pale. Sitting there she was too still, too self-contained. Her eyes were completely lifeless. His gaze quickly surveyed the room and came to rest on the second shrouded body. The hint of a delicate black heeled boot poked out from under the blanket. Damn, was there no end to the losses she had to suffer.

For Garcia personally, death could not have come soon enough for Carol Preston but he knew that Lucy had never given up hope that her mother would someday come to see the error of her ways. It was something that they had discussed at length but he had never known exactly what to say or how to help. He didn't want to be responsible for snuffing out one of Lucy's last remaining dreams but deep down he knew that Carol Preston was Rittenhouse to the core.

"Your mom?"

"She's dead."

Lucy didn't even look at him, her voice flat, face void of all expression. She simply sat staring unseeing into the room ahead. He crossed to her slowly, unsure of what words of comfort he could offer, fully knowing that nothing could make up for the loss of a beloved mother. Because, no matter what she said, no matter what Carol had done, he knew that Lucy still loved her.

"I'm sorry Lucy."

"You know what her one great regret was? That she didn't indoctrinate me earlier into her evil cult. You were right. I should have seen her for what she was sooner. My whole life I was blind."

Oh draga, I never wanted to be right. I hoped you would be spared this. Her voice was still so expressionless. He was desperate to reach something in her, even anger.

"Well, you want someone to blame, you should blame Wyatt. He's the idiot who brought a Rittenhouse spy into the bunker."

She finally looked at up at him and the pain he saw reflected in her eyes drew the breath from his lungs. But her voice, when she spoke, carried a hint of anger.

"And what would you have done? If Rittenhouse had brought your wife and child back from the dead. Would you look for the hidden catch or would you just be so grateful that they were back in your arms and in your life? You can blame Wyatt if you want …"

"I don't give a damn about Wyatt." He knew his accent was thicker with each word he spoke. As he fell to his knees before her, Garcia hoped that his words would remain in english long enough for Lucy to understand as he finally confessed his love for her. "That's not why I'm here."

As her eyes locked onto his, he forgot where or when they were. Through all the agony and loss that this day had brought, the only thing he could see was the beauty and fragility of the woman before him.

There was a hint of dawning recognition in her eyes as she asked him "Why are you here?"

Ljubavi, do you truly not know? It seemed to Garcia that they were frozen in that moment. His eyes spoke volumes before he squared his shoulders and drew a deep breath. Let her love me back. If not now then someday.

"I…"

The sound of the door opening halted the words that he was about to speak. Fuck Wyatt! Did he have to ruin every moment with Lucy? At least the bastard seems to realize that he intruded on something.

Tension hung in the air until Wyatt finally asked "Where's Rufus?"

"We found Jiya. Come on."

Reminded of their purpose, Lucy was instantly up and out the door leaving both men to follow in her wake.

XXXXXXXXXX

Bison Horn Saloon, Chinatown, San Francisco, 1888

The joyous feeling of being reunited with Jiya was short lived. Currently the team was hiding in a back hallway and having a heated debate about whether or not Jiya would return with them to the present. Jiya was steadfast in her refusal to leave. She insisted that if she did it would set into motion the events that would lead to Rufus' death. Round and round they went but they got no where. Finally Lucy had enough.

"Stop it. Stop it. Both of you stop. Nobody's dying and we're getting out of here."

God he loved that woman. She was magnificent. His Lucy was so fierce, so passionate about protecting those whom she loved. Despite the situation, he got a perverse sense of joy from the bossiness in her tone.

"You don't understand." Jiya tried to explain but Lucy was having none of it.

He didn't think he had ever seen Lucy take on such an air of authority before. She fixed the group with a hard stare and gave them hell.

"I do understand. None of us have anything anymore except each other. That's how we've survived this long. No matter how bad it gets, we're together. We take out Rittenhouse together. We are going home together. Are we clear?"

Lucy had a way of telling it like it was and getting to the heart of the matter. Garcia found he could not disagree with her words. It served to refocus them. Well, refocus him and Wyatt.

"She's right."

"Count me in."

She had even reached Rufus who interjected some much needed humor into all the tension. "That was, like, better than the speech in Rudy."

Jiya was the only one still arguing. "I'm not leaving." The techie pleaded with Rufus and the rest of the group "Just go, okay. Before it's too late."

"Jiya."

The sound of gunshots filled the air. Chairs fell over and tables scraped the floor as the patrons rushed to get out of the line of fire. He and Wyatt both had their weapons drawn as Emma's voice came ringing out, taunting them. "Oh Lucy!"

"Stay back. Stay back."

Garcia wasn't sure if Wyatt's words for himself or Lucy as they had both started forward at Emma's words.

"Sorry about your mom. That is, if you even care, her being a Rittenbitch and all."

His finger twitched on the trigger. He really hoped that he would be the one to silence the red-headed menace forever. He longed to stop her flow of words. To end this and get her out of their lives forever.

"I'm in charge now. I think you'll find me enlightened compared to Nicholas. Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Ever the soldier, Wyatt was asking Jiya about alternate exits. There were others but all of them involved going through the main room of the saloon which was currently being riddled with bullets from Emma and Mrs. Wyatt Logan. Resolved that there was no other way, the soldier sighed heavily then looked at him with eyes that begged for cooperation. "All right, look, it's you and me. We cover everyone, then make a run for it."

Garcia nodded. He didn't like it but he'd do it. Anything to get Lucy and the other's out of this situation and back home safely. It surprised him, but he felt almost as responsible and concerned for Jiya and Rufus as he did for Lucy.

Wyatt continued issuing orders. "Lucy, you go straight for the Lifeboat. Get them home safe & then come back for me and Flynn. All right?"

Lucy quickly nodded her agreement. Her heart was in her throat as she watched Garcia and Wyatt round the corner, weapons at the ready. All she could think was come back to me.

XXXXXXXXX

Exterior Bison Horn Saloon, Chinatown, San Francisco, 1888

Bloody fucking hell! That hurts. Garcia's shoulder and arm were on fire. At least one of Emma's shot's had been successful. They had no sooner stepped out the backdoor of the saloon then the bullets started flying. The had been cautious yet somewhat optimistic because Rufus had survived beyond the events in Jiya's vision.

His eyes frantically searched for Lucy and found her sheltering behind a barrell. She looked to be unhurt. Thank God. But Rufus, damn. Could this day get any worse? Another of Emma's bullet's had struck the pilot. Yes, apparently it can. Wyatt and Jiya were doing their best to stop the bleeding but Garcia knew a fatal wound when he saw one. They wouldn't be able to get Rufus to the Lifeboat and back to the present fast enough. He felt true sorrow at the thought of the pilot's death despite the fact that Rufus had always been quite vocal about his dislike of him.

"Lucy."

He looked up at Wyatt's cry. What the hell is she thinking? In the length of time that it had taken him to assess Rufus' condition, Lucy had picked up a gun dropped by a deceased Rittenhouse thug and started after Emma.

"Can you run with that thing?" Wyatt asked.

"I can sure as hell try." Weapon in hand, Garcia took off after Lucy. Half formed prayers raced through his mind as he raced to catch up. Keep her safe. Please. The longer it took to find Lucy the more he feared he would be too late. He had just reached the docks when gunshots split the air. Not Lucy. Please, not Lucy.

As he got closer he could hear Lucy and Emma yelling. He raced into the warehouse and down a corridor to find Emma on top of Lucy, one hand around Lucy's throat, the other punching Lucy repeatedly. Lucy's struggles were going weaker by the second as Emma's grip tightened around Lucy's throat, cutting off her air.

Garcia had no memory of what occurred next. One second he was watching Lucy being beaten and choked and then he was kneeling beside her. He moved to pull Lucy into his arms but she grabbed his gun and launched herself after Emma, firing until there were no bullets left.

Sobbing, battered, and emotionally spent, Lucy collapsed on the filthy warehouse floor. The only thing he could do for her in that moment was to hold her so that's what he did.

"Garcia, I can't. I can't." He pulled her closer and rested his forehead on hers. The bullet wound in his shoulder sent waves of agony washing through him but that was secondary to the pain caused by Lucy's distress. He rocked her and murmured endless words of comfort. He promised that he would never let anything bad happen to her ever again. Told her he would always keep her safe. In Croatian he confessed his love and vowed to himself that he would tell her in English as soon as they were home safe.

Finally, he gathered himself enough to start the process of getting her back to Wyatt and Jiya. Lucy had cried herself out and was weak as a rag doll. Slowly, supporting her weight, Garcia got them back to the saloon. He didn't think that Lucy was even aware of their surroundings anymore but the second they reached the others she collapsed beside Rufus and fresh sobs shook her body.

He and Wyatt had to drag Lucy and Jiya away from Rufus. Both women fought them and begged them to bring Rufus' body with them but it wasn't safe. In the end, he and Wyatt had to drag them away from the saloon. No amount of alcohol would drown out their cries or remove the memory of that agonizing walk from his mind.

XXXXXXXXXX

Garcia's Room, Bunker, Present Day

"Lucy. No, don't leave me. Ljubavi, no." He was lost in and endless loop of watching Emma, Carol, or some other Rittenhouse member murder Lucy.

"Garcia, wake up. Garcia. Please. Wake up."

He came to with Lucy standing over him, one hand shaking his non-injured shoulder, the other cupping his cheek. Worried brown eyes met his. She had tears streaming down her face. She was safe. She was here. Incapable of speech, he pulled her onto his lap and held her tightly, afraid that if he let go she would disappear.

"Garcia, it's okay. I'm here. I'm safe." Lucy ran her hand through his hair and just kept offering words of comfort. It was a long time before he calmed enough to relax his grip on her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He couldn't quite meet her eyes. He was supposed to be protecting her from nightmares not the other way around.

Lucy used both hands to raise his face enough to see into is eyes. "It's fine. I'm fine. What are you doing sleeping in that chair? No wonder you had nightmares."

"You need your rest. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Damn it. Garcia Flynn you were just shot. Why the hell wouldn't you wake me up or just get in bed next to me?"

He opened his mouth, unsure if he meant to protest or try to explain his reasoning but Lucy wasn't having any of it. Without another word she was off his lap and standing beside him.

"Up now. I mean it. You have a bullet wound and you are getting in this bed." She was such a ferocious sight the he almost laughed but thought better of it. He truly loved his bossy historian. But she needed the bed more than he did. He wouldn't back down on that.

"Draga, you were choked and beaten. Get in bed. I'm fine in the chair."

"No. I'm not arguing about this anymore. I'm tired. Every bone and muscle in my body hurts. If you really want me in that bed then you'll get in there first because that's the only way that I'm laying back down. There's plenty of time tomorrow to talk and process all of this. Right now I just really want to have your arms around me and close my eyes. So. Get. In. The. Bed. Now."

Chastened, he got into bed and held out his good arm for her. Once she had settled herself against him he pulled the blankets over them both.

"I'm sorry ljubavi. This is better for both of us. Now close your eyes." He pressed a kiss into her hair and stroked her back until he felt her drift off. Only then did he close his own eyes. Tomorrow they would talk.