Chapter 2

A/N #1: To those readers following this story, thanks for your patience! In case you might be wondering why this chapter is around twice as long as the first was, it's because chapter one of this story was really just setting the stage for some delicious Wyatt angst, per a request from Timeless friend, Caroline. Anyway, since it's been a minute (or two), here's a very brief recap of the first chapter...

Previously...

About six months after the Logan family's vacation to Disneyland (as told in "A Wish Your Heart Makes"), Lucy is all set to start her winter break from Stanford University. She decides to make a quick stop at the mall to finish Christmas shopping for Wyatt before picking Ethan up at day care. Out of nowhere, a speeding truck runs a red light and t-bones her minivan...

Mid December 2026

Wyatt grinned at his phone before dropping it on the desk and turning his attention back to the boring report on his lap top. Ha, Mr. Claus. He loved it when his sexy wife flirted with him–stuff like that kept a marriage interesting (in his humble opinion). The next 45 minutes or so flew by as he diligently worked through lunch, eating a sandwich at his desk in order to finish up early today since Lucy was officially on Christmas break. Wyatt knew how much she'd been looking forward to the holidays this year, especially with Ethan being old enough now to start getting into it and the twins still young enough to believe (or at least pretending they did to make Mommy and Daddy happy).

He powered down the laptop, cleared his desk and was reaching for his suit jacket when Denise suddenly appeared in the doorway, hands clasped tightly at her trim waist. "Hey, there," he greeted her cheerfully, "was just coming by your office to tell you I'm heading home now." Wyatt paused and his smile faded when he belatedly noticed the unusually serious expression the older woman wore. Instantly, a sense of foreboding washed over him, so strong it nearly stole his breath. Something was wrong...

"What is it?" he asked warily, hands dropping to his side, "Has something happened? Is it one of kids? Lucy?" Even as his superior quietly closed the door behind her without answering, Wyatt grabbed his phone and hurried tapped his wife's name, holding it to his ear with a shaking hand. The second her voice mail picked up, his bewildered eyes met Denise's.

"There must be some mistake," he stammered, "We were texting not too long ago...Lucy's at the mall doing some Christmas shopping before she picks up Ethan..." Wyatt's voice trailed off when Denise shook her head and regarded him somberly. Something was very wrong...

Fighting a growing sense of panic, he dropped heavily into his chair. Inhaling deeply, Wyatt gritted out, "Tell me everything you know and make it fast," because it was taking every bit of self control he could manage to wait long enough for her response before charging out of the building like a bat out of hell toward whichever loved one needed him. It has to be Lucy because if something happened to one of the kids, she would've called him straight away...

"Maggie took the call from the Palo Alto Police Department and put it through to me," she said evenly. "Lucy never made it to the mall, I'm afraid. Around an hour ago, she was involved in an accident not far from the university. Once the firemen got her out of the wreckage, she was rushed to Stanford Medical Center, which as I recall, is maybe only a block away. Apparently, Lucy was not conscious at the time. It's too early yet for an official report, but the officer who called to notify you said from preliminary witness accounts, it looks like a guy in one of those heavy-duty pickups ran a red light and t-boned the passenger side of her minivan. No word yet if he was driving impaired, I'm afraid, though it wouldn't surprise me. It feels sadly ironic to even say this out loud, but she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time." Please, God, no.

On his feet in a second, driven by the fierce desire to get to his injured wife (hurry, hurry, Lucy needs you, his brain feverishly urged), Wyatt growled under his breath in frustration when Denise stepped in front of him and held up her hand, his temper only slightly mollified by the sincere concern on her face. "Wyatt, wait...I'm sure at the moment, your instincts are strongly telling you to go running out of here, but hang on a second. First of all, you're in no fit state of mind to be driving yourself anywhere-not without possibly risking an accident of your own, so I'm taking you, and no arguments. Now, what about the kids? I'm assuming since Lucy was coming from the university that the girls are still at school, and Ethan is at day care?"

What? He struggled to set aside his tremendous worry for Lucy long enough to focus on their children for a second. At Wyatt's dazed nod, Denise pulled out her phone and quickly tapped the screen before putting it to her ear. "Misha, we've just had some bad news here. Lucy's been in what sounds like a serious car accident, and I'm getting ready to take Wyatt to the hospital. Uh huh. Could you pick up Ethan at his day care and then later on, get the girls when school is dismissed and keep them at our place until we know what's going on? Yes...yes, that would be great. I'll text you when we find out anything. Thanks, love you." Slipping the device in her suit jacket pocket, she opened his office door and said firmly, "Alright, then, that's one less thing for you to worry about. Let's go."

Things got a little hazy in his mind after that and later on, Wyatt would remember little of their hurried walk to the parking garage. Though Denise was an excellent driver, the lunch hour traffic was typically heavy, so the drive from their office downtown out to Palo Alto still took the better part of an hour. Phone clenched tightly in his right hand, he was helpless to keep from compulsively checking it every minute or so—for what, Wyatt wasn't really sure.

While the scary news was gradually starting to sink into his brain, his heart however, irrationally continued to hope this had all been a terrible mistake...that any time now, he'd get a playful text from his wife hinting at what she'd bought him at the mall or maybe discussing something trivial like what they'd be having for dinner. Normal, everyday family stuff. Swallowing hard, Wyatt tried to tell himself to be patient, not to overreact. Lucy was fine...would be fine...she had to be fine...because he couldn't bear for even a half second to imagine otherwise...

Preoccupied with getting to the hospital as quickly and safely as possible, the older woman didn't bother breaking the heavy silence, leaving Wyatt to his miserable thoughts–which was just as well since his very being was consumed with fear for his wife, and polite conversation was beyond his capabilities right now. Just when he thought he might explode with impatience, they were pulling into the parking lot of the sprawling Stanford University Medical Center. Even as Denise was slowing to a stop in front of the Adult Emergency Services entrance, Wyatt was unsnapping his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.

"Easy there. We made it, now take a deep breath, Wyatt, because Lucy's going to need your strength in the coming days...need you to remain calm and steady so she can focus on recovering from whatever injuries she may have suffered. Okay? Alright then, I'll park and meet you inside as soon as I can," she told him with an encouraging smile. With a jerky nod, he flung open the car door and hurried through the sliding double doors where he stopped to briefly scan his surroundings. The crowded waiting area was brightly lit, comfortably furnished, and predictably noisy. At last spotting a sign for the Information Desk on the wall above a row of chairs, Wyatt groaned mentally at the handful of people already standing in line as he approached the desk, desperate to find Lucy. Hang on, sweetheart, I'll be with you soon...

Glancing idly at the large clock hanging on the wall behind the Information Desk, it struck Wyatt that Michelle was probably picking up Ethan right about now. Was little man wondering where his Mommy was? he brooded. Thank God Lucy hadn't headed straight for the day care today, or his son might've been in the van when the truck hit it. His rigid posture wavered ever so slightly at the horrifying thought before he shook his head abruptly to chase it away. Stop borrowing trouble, Logan, you have enough to worry about. As he continued to wait, it occurred to Wyatt that if Lucy was hurt badly enough to stay at least overnight in the hospital, he'd have to figure out something to tell his children...

Mercifully for his sanity, the line moved surprisingly fast and at last it was his turn. "Can I help you, sir?" a dark-haired young woman with glasses asked politely while an older man seated beside her patiently answered the constantly ringing phone.

Wyatt unconsciously gripped the edge of the counter with shaking hands. Clearing his throat, he replied in a strained voice, "Yes, Ma'am, my wife was in a car accident and brought here by ambulance a short while ago. I need to find her. Can you help me, please?" Even upset as Wyatt was, he could hear the desperation in his voice. Oops, still working on that calm and steady thing, boss...

Offering him a brief, yet sympathetic smile, the clerk's fingers flew across the keyboard as Wyatt numbly recited Lucy's full name, address and date of birth. A few seconds later, she looked up from the screen. "It looks like your wife was taken upstairs for a CT scan around 30 minutes ago. I'm not sure how long that process will take–depends on if there's a backlog of patients waiting, though they may move her to the front of the line since her chart shows she was unconscious when the emergency squad brought her in. I have no information beyond that at the moment. If you'd care to take a seat, Mr. Logan, we'll let the ER doc know you're here, alright?"

Though naturally disappointed he wouldn't be able to see Lucy right away, Wyatt merely thanked the woman before turning away. He managed to find a couple seats together as near to the Information Desk as possible just as Denise came through the sliding doors and spotted him in the waiting area. "What did you find out?" she asked, dropping into the chair beside him and nodding briskly when Wyatt shared the tiny scrap of information he had. Despite his distracted state of mind, he did appreciate his boss' reliably no nonsense manner–and wondered not for the first time if anything ever really ruffled Denise Christopher's feathers.

After close to another hour dragged on, Wyatt realized how foolish it had been of him to think the ride from his office to the hospital was unbearably slow, because sitting in this damn waiting room was sheer hell–each minute seemingly taking longer to pass the one before. At one point, he remembered to text Rufus and Jiya, who were understandably shocked and instantly offered Wyatt whatever help he needed with Lucy and the kids. After that, he put the phone away, too absorbed by his fears to find comfort in reliving memories of happier times—though Denise occupied herself by scrolling through work emails and checked in with Michelle a couple times. While relieved to see from the cute pictures she texted of Flynn, Amy and little Ethan having a great time at the playground not far from the Christophers' home, he was dreading the moment he had to tell them about their Mommy getting hurt in a car crash. She was the glue that bound their happy family together—something he never took for granted.

Wyatt's gaze mindlessly wandered around the room before landing on his left hand, and the simple gold band Lucy had slipped on his finger nearly eight years ago. Understandably, neither bride or groom had any idea how severely one of their wedding vows (specifically, for better or worse, in sickness and health), might be tested in the future–especially since they'd already endured a painful separation last spring when Wyatt had unexpectedly been sent to Syria. And now with Lucy's car accident, looked like 2026 was turning out to be one of the most challenging years the Logans had ever faced...and definitely not one he cared to repeat.

Still, the 'better' times had by far outnumbered the 'worse' ones since Christmas Day 2018 when he and Lucy left behind the dangerous days of time travel and dealing with insane secret hereditary organizations to start their married life–for which he was deeply appreciative. Yeah, despite endless obstacles, which included her late mother's evil machinations, in the end, not even the bizarre return of his long-dead first wife (albeit a Rittenhouse version of Jessica Logan) could derail the fierce love and devotion the two of them had for each other. The sweet, brilliant, feisty history professor had changed Wyatt's life for the better in so many ways after the eventful night they met at Mason Industries that he couldn't envision life without her-and he damn well had no intention of ever trying. Might sound corny, but he believed with every fiber of his being that no matter what the time line, Wyatt Logan and Lucy Preston belonged together...

At last, someone at the Information Desk loudly called out his name over the barely controlled chaos of the waiting room. Wyatt eagerly jumped to his feet and practically ran to the counter. "Yes, I'm Wyatt Logan. Is my wife okay? Can I see her now?" he asked urgently, dimly aware that Denise had followed him and was standing at his elbow in silent support.

Glancing between him and the large computer screen directly in front of her was a different clerk, this one a blonde who looked to be around his age. Giving him a pleasant smile (and kindly overlooking his rather agitated manner), she informed Wyatt that after her CT scan was finished, Lucy had been moved into a room on the fifth floor. Before he could ask her for the room number, though, seemed the woman wasn't finished.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Logan, before I'm allowed to give you that information," she said apologetically, "the hospital will need to see proof of your insurance, plus we need your signature on a couple forms. Should only take a few more minutes. I really am sorry." He stared at her in dismay. Was she kidding him?

After nearly two hours of worrying about the woman he loved—and despite his honest intention to heed Denise's wise counsel-Wyatt's grasp on his temper was (at best) razor thin right now. Thankfully, his boss knew him very well and recognized that. Calmly nudging him aside, she showed the clerk her NSA badge. "As you can imagine, Miss, it's been quite a stressful afternoon for Mr. Logan since learning his wife was involved in a serious car accident," she said matter of factly. "I'm his direct supervisor, and can take care of the insurance matter for him, plus I will make certain he returns to sign all the forms you require after he has visited his wife. Will that work?"

If he hadn't been in such a frantic state of mind, Wyatt might've laid a big smacking kiss on his superior right there in front of God and everybody, so great was his relief. Digging his medical insurance card out of his wallet, he hurriedly thrust it at the blonde with a hopeful expression. Mercifully for his nerves, she merely took the card and with a resigned sigh, told him, "Room 534."

"Go on, I got this, go find your wife," Denise urged with reassuring smile, and after mumbling his thanks, Wyatt took off like a shot down the wide hallway toward the bank of elevators. Anxiously stabbing at the "up" button for all three cars–probably a few times more than was necessary–Wyatt was too concerned about Lucy to give a damn about the vaguely curious looks from people around him waiting on the elevator also. He had only one priority right now...

Just when a frustrated Wyatt was giving serious thought to finding the nearest stairwell and running up all four flights of stairs, one of the elevators at last descended to a halt with a loud ding, its heavy doors sliding open smoothly to discharge several passengers. Curbing his growing impatience as he waited until everyone standing in front of him got on, Wyatt was able to squeeze in behind an older couple and a guy in navy blue scrubs with a hospital lanyard hanging around his neck.

At last, the doors closed and the elevator began to climb steadily upwards. Wyatt gratefully loosened his necktie and shoved it in the pocket of his suit jacket with a weary sigh. Though the infuriatingly slow ride tested his already frazzled nerves, eventually the elevator stopped on the fifth floor. Politely excusing himself, he moved to the front of the car just as the doors slid open. Luckily, directly across from the elevator was the busy nurses station.

Once Wyatt showed his identification, he was able to learn the extent of Lucy's injuries (mild concussion and a sprained, but thankfully, not dislocated, left shoulder) and that she had been administered a painkiller and was sleeping at the moment. The head injury alone meant she most definitely wouldn't be released this evening since they'd be waking her every two hours until morning. Not the greatest news, but also not nearly as serious as he'd anticipated, which was a relief. Wyatt gruffly thanked the nurse, who kindly pointed him in the direction of Lucy's room. Fighting the silly impulse to run down the thickly-carpeted hallway, he nonetheless walked at a swift pace, eager to be by his wife's side. Room 526...528...530...532...

Abruptly coming to a halt in front of Room 534, he quietly pushed open the partially-closed door to find the room empty save for the woman lying in the wide hospital bed. For what felt like the first time since Denise walked into his office early this afternoon, Wyatt took a deep, cleansing breath as the crushing weight of his worry began to gradually dissipate. Finally...

As he slowly approached the bed, a tremendous wave of love and protectiveness swept over him. His wife was without a doubt the strongest woman it had ever been his privilege to know—but at the moment, she looked impossibly small and heartbreakingly defenseless curled away from him on her right side, her slender form barely making a bump under the thick covers. God, he'd been so frightened...

Carefully sitting on the side of the bed, Wyatt leaned over Lucy and lovingly pushing the messy dark curls from her pale cheek, pressed his lips to the soft skin and inhaled. He was greatly reassured that under the antiseptic scent of her standard issue hospital gown, she still smelled like his Lucy. Leaning back, he frowned thoughtfully at the large sterile bandage on her forehead and drawing the covers down a couple inches, saw that her left arm was secured in a sling against her chest.

If Wyatt had to guess, depending on how fast that asshole driver had been going when he entered the intersection, it was likely Lucy's injuries resulted from the impact of the truck t-boning her minivan throwing her hard against the driver's side door. His face momentarily hardened with anger at the unknown person who'd nearly killed his wife. Stupid, careless bastard. Oh, how Wyatt would love to have just five minutes alone with him...

Unfortunately, his wholly understandable wrath would have to wait. Now was not the time or place for such feelings. Wyatt needed to concentrate all his energy on taking care of Lucy and helping her recover, like the way she fussed and looked after him when he came home from the Syrian mission last spring with head and shoulder injuries of his own. She was his wife, friend, lover, the mother of his children, his everything...and deserved no less from him.

So Wyatt willed himself to settle down. As his boss advised him earlier, he needed to be calm and steady for Lucy's sake. For better or worse...in sickness and health. Exhaling roughly, he gently ran his hand over her slightly rounded hip, murmuring sympathetically, "Damn, sweetheart, that was a bad knock on the head you took. Messed up your left shoulder some, too, but everything is gonna be okay."

Focusing on the sound of his wife's quiet, even breathing, he began to relax a little. Might be selfish of him since she needed her rest, but Wyatt couldn't help wishing Lucy would wake up soon–even if only for a minute or two. Telling himself to be patient, he decided to figure out what to do about the kids while she slept. While no doubt the Christophers would be glad to generously continue helping out, he felt it would still be a pretty big favor to ask them to watch Amy, Flynn and Ethan overnight, especially since his daughters had school tomorrow.

Of course, Wyatt realized the practical solution would be to pick the kids up later on this evening to keep them on their regular routine and then return to his wife's side early tomorrow, but the thought of Lucy being hurt and in pain (and worse, alone all night) did not set well with him. Maybe Rufus and Jiya would be willing to sleep at his house overnight? he wondered. That way, Wyatt would be able to come back to the hospital after the three of them were asleep and stay with Lucy until morning, when he could go home and get the twins off to school before taking Ethan to day care. Hopefully, she'd be dismissed from the hospital sometime around midday, and he could get her settled in at home before school was out. It would involve a good bit of running back and forth on his part, but just might work...

Decision made, he pulled out his phone to text first Denise and then Rufus with the tentative plans when Lucy suddenly began to stir. Thank you, God. Hastily putting the device away, Wyatt tenderly caressed her cheek and coaxed, "Lucy? Wake up now. I'm right here." He unconsciously held his breath as those beautiful whiskey brown eyes gradually fluttered open, and she blinked at him for a long moment. "There you are. I was so worried..." he breathed. Her confused gaze slowly moved between him and their surroundings.

"Wyatt?" Lucy whispered hesitantly, gingerly touching the bandage on her forehead before turning her body slightly with a wince to grasp at his jacket sleeve. "Why am I in the hospital? What happened? Where are the girls and Ethan?" Taking his wife's cold hand in his, Wyatt briefly explained about the accident and that Michelle was taking care of the kids. Perhaps unsurprisingly, her eyes began to fill, tears of shock (and probably pain, too) slipping down her face. Dear Lord, but nothing had the power to turn him inside out like Lucy's tears...

"Shh, it's alright, Lucy, please don't cry," Wyatt soothed, cautiously wrapping his arms around slender frame and holding his wife close as she trembled and cried softly against his chest. "I am so, so sorry this happened to you, but you're gonna be fine, I promise. From the sound of it, things could've been a lot worse, and I'm damn grateful they weren't. Haven't been able to talk to the doc yet, but the nurse said your left shoulder was sprained and you suffered a mild concussion when you hit your head. That does mean an overnight stay, but hopefully you'll be dismissed around noon or so tomorrow." Wyatt smiled faintly at her muffled, okay, against his now slightly damp dress shirt.

Mindful she needed to rest, once Lucy's shivering lessened and she began to yawn, Wyatt very gently placed her against the pillows and pulled the covers up. Giving him a tremulous smile, she immediately reached for his hand. "Wyatt? I really did try to get out of the way, but there was so much traffic and nowhere for me to go. The truck was almost in the intersection before I even noticed it...I was really scared...and wanted you so badly..." His heart ached at the sweet, halting confession.

Wyatt very gently squeezed the small hand clasping his so trustingly and said, "I know. You have been so brave, sweetheart, but now it's time for you to focus on getting better. Just hold on to me and get some rest. I'll be right here, and I promise you'll see the kids tomorrow, okay?" She nodded lethargically before her eyes closed once more. Lucy's grip on his hand gradually slackened, and he carefully tucked hers under the covers, satisfied she'd sleep now, at least until the nurse came in. I'll always watch over you, Lucy Logan, because that's what I'm meant to do in this life, his heart swore, and the pledge was every bit as true in this moment as it was all those years ago...and always would be...

A/N #2: Super quick side note: I have no idea if any hospital would require Wyatt to mess with insurance/admission stuff before giving him his injured wife's room number...but it really ups the angst factor, doesn't it? :p Full disclaimer, I'm not sure why, but Wyatt angst is SO satisfying to write. I'm actually kicking around the idea of writing another chapter, a short epilogue, I guess, covering Lucy's recovery and maybe the Logans' Christmas. Might be fun, right? Hit me up in the comments if you like the idea :) I'm also still working on the next chapter of Yellow Rose-and wondering how the heck it's been two years this month since I posted the very first chapter of that story. Anyway, I sincerely appreciate all of you who still enjoy reading Timeless fanfics. Goodness knows, I still very much enjoy writing these characters! As usual, thank you for all the support. Your favorites, follows and kind reviews mean so much to me :))