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Going Home

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He did not want to throw the tomahawk into that man, he had to. Garcia Flynn stands up, barely looking down as he steps over the man he just killed. He is frantically searching for Lucy and Rufus. In the bunker, with a simple nod of his head, he had promised Lucy that he could be trusted. Trusted to protect her, and to protect Rufus. He has to find them. He has to get them to safety, and he has to get them home.

Garcia closes his eyes, trying to listen for Lucy's voice among the chaos, a voice he has come to know so well. He would never admit to looking forward to finding her through time and having their conversations. He could even hear her voice in his head as he read her journal. There is no mistaking her voice. He strains to listen for her.

He smells the gun smoke in the air, horses neigh in the distance, wooden wheels rumble frantically away from Proctor's Ledge, and he hears the screams of the townsfolk running for cover. But he does not hear her. He does not hear his Lucy.

He opens his eyes and looks toward where he last saw her, but she is not there. He has lost track of her. This fact is made worse because he knows that she has been hurt. Hurt on his watch, no less.

He sees Rufus running in the direction of the Lifeboat, with a… musket in hand? He wrinkles his brow, unsure of what Rufus thinks he is going to do with a musket. He does not come off as a gun savvy kind of guy. Lucy is not far from him, speaking to Abiah, who then runs away. Garcia's eyes are on Lucy, and she sees him now.

"Flynn!" Lucy shouts.

Her voice is urgent, yet calm. She is not shook by what has happened.

Yes, she is not as fearful as he remembers.

He turns around and sees her running to him, her hands holding up the front of her long burgundy dress so she does not trip over it, her blood soaking its sleeve where she has been stabbed. He steps toward her, intent on checking her wound. Without hesitation, she grabs his arm, her fingers holding firmly onto his bicep, and leads him in the direction of the Lifeboat.

"Which way did Rufus go?" she asks.

"I saw him heading toward the Lifeboat with a musket." He motions in the direction that Rufus was heading.

Lucy nods her head and continues forward, letting go of his arm. The sense of urgency to lead him away from the revolt is gone now that she knows that he is with her, and that he is safe.

He watches as she holds her hand over the wound on her arm. She may not show it, but she is in pain. Garcia looks behind them to see if they are being followed and slows his pace. They are in the clear.

"Lucy…" His voice is softer now than she has ever heard. She knows that he is concerned for her well-being. He carefully touches her shoulder, and they stop. She leans forward, wincing as she applies pressure to her wound with her own hand. He approaches her, and she stands taller, not wanting him to know how much pain she is really in. She looks up at him, her eyes asking him why they have stopped.

"Your arm." He answers, tucking in his chin to look down at her.

"It's fine. I'm fine." She forces a smile, a dead giveaway that she is lying.

He wants to tell her that she doesn't have to put on a brave face for him, that he knows she can take care of herself. That she is the bravest woman he has ever known. His match. His equal. The only one he trusts in this whole damn world. Instead he says nothing and tilts his head down so that he can look her in the eyes. Green eyes meet brown eyes, and for only a breath they look at each other with an unspoken understanding. He is here to protect her, and that includes tending to her wound.

Lucy knows she can trust him. If he had not spoken up in the bunker to volunteer himself for this mission, she was going to request him anyway. If Wyatt cannot be here with her and Rufus, she wants Garcia Flynn.

As Lucy glances over her shoulder to make sure they are still safe, Garcia reaches into the pocket of his coat and retrieves a grey handkerchief. He steps toward her, and she removes her hand from her arm, wiping the blood on the side of her dress.

Lucy is all he has left in this world, and he could have lost her tonight. He is frustrated that Agent Christopher made it so God damn difficult for him to do his job. How is he supposed to protect Lucy if he is unarmed? If he had been armed, would she had even been hurt? He knows it is not his fault, but it damn well feels like it. Ever since Lorena and Iris died, he has assigned blame on himself for not being able to protect the ones he loves.

Does he love Lucy? He does not know the answer, it is complicated. Could he fall in love with her? Yes, he could. He is already fighting the urge to want to take her into his arms, to comfort her, to tell her that everything will be all right. He was outside the tavern and heard her mother accuse her of being a witch. He cannot imagine what it is like to have your own mother sentence you to death by hanging. It took all his willpower not to go back in there, grab Lucy, and fight his way out of there to get her to safety. But he had to find a gun, he knew where she and Rufus were going to be held, and he knew they would be at Proctor's Ledge tonight, there had been no time to waste.

He knows about her relationship with Wyatt. Details of their romantic entanglement made their way into her journal. He knows that she is in love with him now, and that she is heartbroken about losing him now that Jessica is alive.

He knows of other things too. Things about he and Lucy, and how their relationship works out, or how it is supposed to work out. When older Lucy came to him with her journal a couple years ago and asked him to do the impossible, to save their future, he saw desperation and sadness in her eyes. He felt that though he had never met her before, that they had an unbreakable connection.

What if He led you to me?

Every single night he spent in jail, her question haunted his every thought, and every dream. What if God had a plan for them? What if they are destined to be together? What if losing Lorena and Iris was meant to happen because one day he was supposed to be with Lucy? He allows himself to care for her, deeply.

He fights the urge to want to take Lucy into his arms, to comfort her, to whisper "moja ljubav," into her ear. Yes, he is falling in love with her. His heart aches seeing her in pain and nothing he can do about it.

He wonders if she had a chance to read through her journal. There is so much more in it than just historical commentary. He assures himself that in time she will come to him and they will finally talk, really talk, about its contents. Talk about what it all means, and maybe then she will accept him as a man instead of an asset, or "muscle," as Agent Christopher put it. Maybe then Lucy will allow him to comfort her, to hold her in his arms, and to confide in him.

Or has history changed so much that this is no longer their fate?

Time travel is a fickle thing.

He takes hold of her arm with little pressure so not to hurt her. Feeling his touch, she looks at him. She did not expect his touch to be so… considerate. He looks into her eyes once more, making sure that he is not causing her any discomfort, she nods to let him know it is all right to continue. He wraps the handkerchief around her wound.

"This is going to hurt." He whispers.

Lucy nods her head, biting her lower lip as he tightens the fabric, tying it into a knot. It hurts, and she blinks to keep tears from welling in her eyes. She is not ready for him to see her cry.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes, subconsciously rubbing his thumb on her shoulder above the wound to offer her some comfort. The gesture does not go unnoticed by Lucy.

"It's okay," she says under her breath, forcing her voice not to quiver. She knows now, without doubt, that he is a good man. She takes a step closer to him, placing her hand gently on his chest as a gesture of gratitude, "let's go home." Her hand slides slowly down his chest as she turns her back to him and walks away.

He watches her with sadness in his eyes. She walks slowly up the hill towards the Lifeboat, no urgency in her steps. His heart breaks for her. He knows that "going home" means she will have to face reality, to deal with Wyatt and his Jessica. He knows that she will come to understand that with Wyatt, when it comes to Jessica, she will always come second.

For an instant, Garcia is jealous of Wyatt. For so long he had tried to destroy Rittenhouse in order to save Lorena and Iris's lives, and all Wyatt had to do was go on a mission, have Rittenhouse go back to 1980 and change things so that Jessica had never died.

If he were to return now and find out that Lorena and his little girl were alive, he would go to them, let Iris jump up into his arms, and hug his wife, but he would still walk away from them forever. If he stayed, Lorena would think him crazy if he needed to talk about what he has done, she would be disgusted that he had killed so many people to try to save her and would think he had lost his mind if he even brought up time travel. He needs someone now who understands how and why he has done the things he has done, to accept him for the man he has become.

His eyes fall on Lucy.

He takes a deep breath to compose himself and closes his eyes. He almost lost her today. Lucy is truly all he has left. She is the one person in this world who he can relate to, the one person who he will be able to talk to about what they have done. She is the one person he knows he can trust. And like him, she has lost her entire family because of Rittenhouse. They share so much in common. So much pain and suffering. He is reminded of his favorite quote from the 18th century French poet, and politician, Alphonse de Lamartine.

Grief knits two hearts in closer bonds than happiness ever can; and common sufferings are far stronger links than common joys.

He and Lucy share the same pain. They both lost their families. They have both killed and been changed by doing so. They are fractured, but not broken, searching for light in the darkness. They share common suffering, and that bonds them. But if her journal is correct, and they do end up together… he takes a breath, and their words run through his mind again.

I've done horrible things, become something else. How can I bring that into my home? What kind of husband or father can I be after what I've done?

I prayed to God for answers, and he led me here to this.

What if He led you to me?

What if God led her to him? What if everything that is happening is happening for the sole purpose of bringing them into each other's lives? To be each other's family?

Rufus is already in the Lifeboat, strapped in and ready to go, when they arrive. Garcia helps Lucy up into the machine, being careful not to touch her wounded arm. He sits, and Lucy falls into her seat across from him, still holding her hand over her arm despite his makeshift bandage. He will properly tend to her wound when they get back to the bunker.

Her arm is weak, and she struggles with the seat belt, and he sighs, knowing that now that they are in Rufus's presence, the likelihood of her asking him for help is gone. He leans forward, taking hold of the seat belt in order to buckle her in.


"It's okay." He whispers again, this time on purpose because he knows Rufus can hear them, and he knows that Rufus does not like, nor trust him.

She is silent as he buckles her in, watching his every move. She looks scared, not of him, of something else, and he does not know what.

"Those women today, they were all supposed to die. Pretty big change you were willing to make to history, huh?" He wants to take her mind off of what she will have to deal with once they get home. He hopes talking about this mission will do the trick.

"It's not what I'm willing to do. It's what I'm not willing to do. I can't sit back and watch innocent people die anymore. To Hell with what's meant to happen and to Hell with my mother."

"You're nothing like her, you know?"

"Yeah… I know."

He sits back in his seat, a sense of pride washes over him, and he cannot help but smile. Lucy has come a long way in the past year and a half. She is turning into the woman that he knows from the journal, turning into the woman who gave him the journal in the first place, who will work with him, and do what needs to be done. Who will stand at his side and fight the good fight, to take down Rittenhouse.

Having heard enough of Garcia and Lucy's conversation, Rufus speaks up, "Let's go home. I'm starting to miss Wyatt."