A Steadfast Heart

A/N #1: Apologies to those Yellow Rose of Texas fans patiently waiting for the next chapter, but the idea for an angsty Wyatt story took hold of me and wouldn't let go. (Quick side note: while the title of this fic includes "Heart," it is not part of my ongoing Hearts series.) This new effort (my 64th fanfic!) was inspired by the intense scene in the Timeless S2 premiere where Agent Christopher tries to go with the guys to 1918 France and look for Lucy after the Lifeboat is fixed. Each time I watch it, I'm always struck by Wyatt's unwavering determination that he and Rufus will absolutely find Lucy and bring her home...

"A steadfast heart does not stray from the path..." - Wayne Gerard Trotman

Slamming the door behind him, Wyatt dropped heavily onto the neatly-made standard issue Army cot and tiredly scrubbed his hands over his stubbled face. Sweet Jesus, he didn't know which one of them was more irritating...

Was it Rufus, who instantly dropped his hands guiltily and stepped back whenever Wyatt happened to catch him kissing or cuddling his (not missing) girlfriend...

Or maybe Jiya, who seemed to be constantly walking on eggshells around him, acting like Wyatt was some damn wild animal who might bite...

And while of course the man himself had no idea, at times the very sight of Connor Mason annoyed the living hell out of Wyatt–who couldn't forget the way the billionaire awkwardly interrupted the intimate, important discussion he and Lucy were having about possibilities before she disappeared...

Perhaps most upsetting to Wyatt was Denise Christopher's seeming lack of urgency regarding the NSA's increasingly fruitless search for Lucy that was really starting to piss him off...

Stretching out on the bed with a faint groan, Wyatt stoically ignore the lingering pain in his scarred back and stared moodily at the peeling, water-stained ceiling above him. Dammit. This was all his fault. He should never have let Lucy leave Mason by herself the last time they were together...should've insisted on going with her, because the second she was out of sight, a sense of loss washed over him, so strong he nearly went after her right then. But just as Wyatt made up his mind to leave (maybe even catching up with Lucy in the parking lot), Rufus spotted him.

"There you are. Time to hit the costume bay and dig up some groovy '70's threads," he grinned. "Jiya said the Lifeboat should be all ready to go by the time we finish changing." The other man paused and looked around in confusion. "Hey, I thought Lucy was with you."

"She was," Wyatt confirmed tersely, doing his best to ignore the uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. His Delta Force buddy Bam Bam used to jokingly call those feelings when Wyatt got them his "spidey senses," but nonetheless respected his friend's instincts one hundred percent. And unfortunately, right now, something within him was getting more worried for Lucy by the second...

Pulling out his phone, he impatiently tapped the call icon and found her name. Maybe he could persuade Lucy to postpone her mysterious errand until after they returned from 1979, Wyatt thought hopefully...right up until the call went to voice mail after only four rings. Frustrated, he swore under his breath, uncertain about what to do next. Dammit, where was she? "Lucy, call me back, it's important," he instructed brusquely before ending the call and reluctantly going with Rufus to change clothes.

By the time the two men were decked out in itchy, head to toe polyester, he had repeatedly tried to call Lucy, with each attempt going straight to voice mail (and worrying him something fierce). It wasn't like her to ignore his calls. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Rufus shaking his head fondly at Wyatt's usual over-protectiveness when it came to Lucy. His friend did try to ease his concerns, saying she was probably on her way back but maybe driving in an area with bad cell reception. While he appreciated the effort, Wyatt still couldn't quite shake the increasingly ominous feeling Lucy was in danger. He was sure of it.

Absently following Rufus to the Lifeboat once they were told the time machine was fully charged, he perched just inside the hatch while the pilot buckled himself in and began deftly flipping switches. "Try not to worry, man," he advised over his shoulder. "You know Lucy. I'm sure she'll be rushing in any second, super excited about the possibility of saving her sister. Look on the bright side. I think this is gonna be a good jump for us to finish up this whole chasing Rittenhouse through time thing."

While he couldn't fault the last sentence, the rest of Rufus' words only served to amp up Wyatt's dread, merely confirming in his mind that if everything had gone well with whatever errand Lucy was taking care of, she surely would've returned to Mason by now, eagerly anticipating the team's return to a time line where Amy Preston existed once more. Where the hell was she?

Putting the phone to his ear once more, Wyatt glanced absently over his shoulder towards the main platform where Jiya and the other techs operated from. He froze when a rhythmically flashing light caught his attention. That was weird...had the light always been there and he never noticed? Actually, it kinda reminded Wyatt of something from one of his past Delta Force missions. And then the realization slammed into him. Dear God, it was a timer...for a bomb...which meant MI had been infiltrated...

Just as the device exploded with a tremendous, earsplitting bang, Wyatt instinctively threw himself over Rufus while a concussive wave of sound and heat and fury smashed into the Lifeboat...and then his world went dark and silent...

Flashback

Wyatt had experienced his fair share of nightmare situations before, but waking up nearly a week later in a strange room lying on his stomach-wrists loosely tied because his shrapnel-riddled back took the brunt of the blast from the explosion that just about leveled Mason Industries–instantly shot straight to the top of the list. Even as a disoriented Wyatt ignored the ringing in his head and fiery burning pain in his back muscles and instinctively began to pull against the restraints, he heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Easy now, Master Sergeant, or you'll pull your stitches," Denise Christopher admonished lightly, taking a seat beside his bed and regarding him calmly while he struggled to free himself, heedless of dislodging the IV line taped to his arm. "Come on, Wyatt, the doc will have my head if you tear that IV out," she scolded.

Sagging back on the bed in defeat, he closed his eyes and briefly rested his forehead on the lumpy pillow before turning his face to glare his displeasure at her. The NSA agent always seemed to have the endless patience of a saint and in his current physical condition–as Wyatt knew full well from experience-could easily wait him out. God dammit, he muttered, not quite under his breath, pretending not to see the barest hint of a fond smile lightening his superior's face as she offered him a sip of cool water that felt like heaven on his parched throat. He nearly choked, though, when she informed him the explosion had happened five whole days ago. No wonder Wyatt felt like shit.

"Is Lucy here?" he croaked in a scratchy voice a long moment later. "Can I see her?" Groggy as he was, Wyatt couldn't help but notice the older woman's pained frown at his innocent request. His injuries were immediately forgotten upon hearing her reluctant answer. It seemed Lucy was missing...

What. the. hell? Even as his sluggish brain tried to process the unbelievable information, Wyatt's body was already straining against the soft ties once more. "Get these damned things off me right now! I need to go find Lucy," he growled, unhappier by the second when Denise ignored the command. Eventually his strength gave out—not that surprising considering he'd been unconscious for days. Wyatt sullenly accepted defeat (for now) and demanded, "Tell me everything you know."

Unfortunately for his overwrought state of mind, the little information Agent Christopher had to share gave Wyatt no comfort at all. The plain (bitter) truth was the team had gotten overconfident and relaxed their vigilance once the feds captured and locked up 150 known members of Rittenhouse. While an understandable reaction after everything the secret organization had put the team through, in hindsight, it also left them vulnerable to an unexpected attack that not only injured Wyatt and many others, but took the lives of 22 MI employees. He felt heartsick at the news.

What utter fools they'd been for underestimating the enemy...and 22 innocent people paid the ultimate price. Shockingly, despite their perceived arrogance and strict belief in the righteousness of their loony mission to re-write history, Rittenhouse had been well prepared for such a situation-able to put their deadly plan into motion not even 24 hours after the federal raid. According to their meager intel, it looked like the organization was under new leadership, a second string patiently waiting in the wings to take over. And when the team's guard was down, those scheming psychos boldly brought the war right into their home with devastating results.

Even as he swallowed hard and struggled to ask the unthinkable, Denise Christopher hastily assured Wyatt there had been no sign of Lucy in the wreckage. Thank God. His relief was fleeting, however. Wait a minute. If she never returned to Mason, then where had Lucy been since he'd seen her last? As Wyatt feared all along, something (or someone, perhaps?) must've happened to her.

"Are you telling me there's been no sign of Lucy for five days now?" he gritted out, uncaring if his tone was borderline insolent. Wyatt was slightly mollified when the older woman overlooked his disrespectful attitude and assured him she had her best people searching round the clock for the slightest bit of information on Lucy...though his heart sank like a stone when she admitted they had almost nothing to go on. She had literally disappeared from the face of the earth. If only Lucy had told Wyatt where she was going that day. At least it would've given them a place to start. The rest of the debrief thankfully took only another few minutes. Even so, Wyatt was clearly having trouble keeping his eyes open. Probably from something in the stupid I.V. stuck in his arm, he grimaced.

Getting to her feet when Wyatt couldn't contain a third wide yawn, Agent Christopher said before slipping from the room, "I think that's enough for today. I know you're in pain and scared out of your mind for Lucy, but you need to concentrate all your energy on regaining your strength. She's going to need you when we find her."

Nodding sleepily, Wyatt's last thought before succumbing to the pain medication was, be brave, Lucy, I'll see you soon...

End Flashback

Taking his superior's words to heart, Wyatt threw himself in recuperating. At least he and the rest of the team was safe enough for the time being after going off grid six weeks ago, though as each boring day blurred into the next, Wyatt seriously wondered if he might be losing his damn mind...mostly from constantly worrying about Lucy (though the unrelenting monotony of their new routine was beginning to wear on him as well.) The first couple days he was awake and able to get out of bed were no picnic since Wyatt fiercely hated feeling weak as a kitten as he gradually regained his strength.

The genius members of the team were of course much busier than him, working feverishly almost non stop on fixing the important computer and electrical stuff on the Lifeboat to get it up and running as quickly as possible. Everyone grimly realized there wasn't much hope of them ever taking down a well-prepared Rittenhouse again (or even leaving this crap hole of a hideout some day) without the time machine.

As he grew stronger, Wyatt began to occupy himself with setting up their new home (such as it was) and volunteering his modest cooking skills on most days. It helped some that the team was visited at varying times daily by Agent Christopher, so at least there was the distraction of working with her on mission strategies or analyzing the scraps of Rittenhouse intel the NSA dug up. Even so, it felt like the majority of each day had little real purpose for Wyatt. For a guy in his line of work, not to mention his personality, this much unwanted inactivity was itself a hellish form of torture (as his new roommates soon learned, usually giving him a wide berth when he fell into one of his black moods).

Staying busy was the only way Wyatt could even attempt to cope with his powerful emotions–which were understandably all over the damn place–and even then, it was hard to focus on much beyond this forced separation from Lucy and his increasing desperation to get her back. The evenings after everyone turned in for the night were worst of all. Many-if not most-nights, Wyatt found himself unable to sleep much at all, prowling around the oppressively silent, chilly bunker and missing Lucy so bad he ached with it. Missed so much about the woman, it was kinda embarrassing...like her sweet smile, her delighted laugh when pulling one over on him...the faint scent of her perfume and the gentle touch of her hand. Yeah, Lucy Preston was like no other woman he'd ever known, and only to himself could Wyatt admit he was head over heels for her...

Every day that passed without any new information on Lucy's whereabouts was more discouraging than the one before. At his lowest point, Wyatt privately despaired at times of ever seeing her again. In spite of the ongoing attempts by the NSA to find Lucy, it was if she'd literally disappeared from the planet. Didn't take much imagination on his part to arrive at the frightening conclusion she might not even be living in 2018 now that those bastards had control of the Mothership. Hell, they could have stashed Lucy any place, anywhere in time (obviously against her will), and until the Lifeboat was fully functional enough to give chase, there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell the team could find her.

Occasionally, Wyatt was able to console himself that Lucy was brave, capable, crazy smart, and one of the strongest women he'd ever had the privilege to know. He might be the team's trained soldier, but the history professor had proven herself time and again to be so much stronger than him. If only he could get out of this rotting dinosaur of an underground bunker and go look for her himself. Wyatt was not only experienced, but extremely well-trained in tracking (and God knew he was beyond motivated), but no, he was trapped here, hiding with the others like some damn criminal.

And sure, maybe it was a bit irrational on his part, but as the boring days passed, he worried that the others had sorta, well, given up on her. (He ignored the tiny voice in the back of his mind reminding him none of them were as attached to Lucy as he was.) Whatever. She was still alive, he stubbornly told himself. Wyatt knew it deep in his heart as well as his own name. No freakin' way God or Fate or the Force would take another woman he loved away from him, right? Right?

Every morning when he awoke, exhausted after a couple brief hours of restless sleep (on a good night), Wyatt cursed himself a thousand times over for letting Lucy walk away from him that day at Mason. Damn, but she felt so right (so perfect) tucked into his arms, cuddled close enough to feel her heart beating against his chest, the sweet fragrance of her thick wavy hair tickling his senses. She'd looked somewhat hesitant-yet hopeful-at his confession about "possibilities," and Wyatt sorely regretted his failure to kiss her before Connor's clumsy interruption. The next time Lucy Preston was in his arms, he vowed to remedy that oversight...

The day began like every tedious one before. Coming around the corner, Wyatt saw the other three clustered around the computer screen while Rufus was puttering around beneath the Lifeboat. Stepping onto the platform, he heard Jiya telling Agent Christopher something about "time dilation" and "motherboards," subjects he knows zero about. His ears perked up in a hurry, though, when Connor said proudly, "You fixed it." Yes! Finally...thank you, God.

Moving closer and peering over Jiya's shoulder, Wyatt asks urgently, "Where's the Mothership?"

The tech's slim fingers raced across the keyboard. "I'll check...September 14, 1918, France."

Wyatt thought for a moment. Why did that particular date and place sound familiar? And then the answer popped into his head from a long ago military history class at Pendleton. "That's World War I," he informed them. "Where?"

Tapping the screen rapidly, she peered at it intently. "Uh, the nearest town is...St. Mihiel." Dear God. If Lucy was in that particular place on that particular day, she was in even greater danger than whatever she'd been subjected to over the past six weeks.

Shrugging into his holster, Wyatt abruptly called out loudly, "Rufus, we gotta go." When the others looked at him in confusion, he impatiently explained, "It's the Western Front. Battle of St. Mihiel was the first one the American forces led. Thousands died. It was a bloodbath..."

Filled with an even greater sense of urgency now, Wyatt was turning away when Jiya said, "Hang on...that is not good..." The way she hesitated before turning her attention back to the screen made his stomach churn.

"What?" he barked out, watching anxiously as her fingers skimmed the keys feverishly.

"The Mothership landed two days ago...what could they've been doing?" she mused uncertainly while Connor and the agent exchanged worried glances. It was clear in that moment there was absolutely no time to waste if there was any hope of finding Lucy and bringing her home. A welcome feeling of purpose washed over him now that their rescue mission was finally set. Lucy was alive and needed him. He was never more certain of anything in his life—and to hell with anyone who tried to get in his way.

"Rufus, right now," Wyatt ordered sharply, sprinting towards the Lifeboat where the wide-eyed pilot stood with a wrench in his hand.

Intent on getting the hell out of 2018, he barely heard Jiya call after him about their clothes. Seriously? They sure as hell weren't gonna waste time playing dress up when Lucy's life was in danger. "We'll find them there," he dismissed curtly, grabbing for the old metal set of steps.

Unsurprisingly, Agent Christopher was right on his heels. "I'm coming with you." All due respect, Ma'am, but you sure as hell aren't, he thought, not bothering to turn around because he had no intention of giving in, even if she made it a direct order. Let her court martial him...like Wyatt gave a rat's ass about his career, not when Lucy's life was at stake.

"No you're not," Wyatt told her bluntly, pushing the steps into place in front of the open hatch.

"You're going to need all the help you can get..." the older woman insisted in a futile attempt to stop him, but he cut her off to end this waste-of-time discussion once and for all.

"No one is going in that seat except for Lucy. We're bringing her home," Wyatt said vehemently as Rufus scrambled up the steps in front of him.

Like a dog with an old bone, the NSA agent was persistent. "Wyatt, you don't even know if she's alive, or if Rittenhouse has her, or if they took her on this trip. I'm sympathetic, I am, but there's no room for error here. We need to stop Rittenhouse and whatever they've..."

The last thread of Wyatt's temper snapped at last. He had waited more than 42 long, lonely, scary days for this very moment. Gritting his teeth, he bit off, "Agent Christopher, we are bringing Lucy home." Forcefully shoving the metal steps away, Wyatt leaned back and slapped the button to close the hatch, fiercely staring down his exasperated superior as the heavy steel circle slid into place. He took a deep, cleansing breath.

"Um, Wyatt, are you sure about leaving Agent Christopher behind?" Rufus asked tentatively. "You know I want to find Lucy as much as anyone, but maybe it would be better to have..." Settling into his seat and deftly buckling the harness, Wyatt calmly interrupted his friend, who shrugged and turned his attention back to the controls.

"Listen, I know you mean well, Rufus, and yeah, we have no idea what's waiting for us when we land. But I've been waiting on this day for six weeks now, and trust me, no matter what it takes, we are bringing Lucy home..."

"Perhaps there is no more important component of character than steadfast resolution." - Theodore Roosevelt

A/N #2: You know, I'm not sure what it says about my personality, Timeless friends, but I find it so satisfying to write Wyatt angst, you know, torture the guy a bit. So much fun 'cause I do love a man with conflicted feels. And while he might not have been ready or able to say the words out loud, in my opinion, Wyatt was definitely falling in love with Lucy by the time they were discussing "possibilities" before she was taken captive by her mother and Rittenhouse. Actions DO speak louder than words, right? As usual, my sincere appreciation to all of you who still enjoy reading about Wyatt, Lucy and the Timeless gang. Your favorites, follows and reviews mean so much to me. Thank you! :))