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The Road Less Traveled

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“I said put your fucking hands on the wall, Flynn.”

This is the third time the prison corrections officer has ordered Garcia Flynn to get up off his bed and place his hands on the cold white brick walls of his prison cell. Garcia runs his hands over the scruff of his face and stands up. It’s already been a long day and all he wants to do is relax in his cell and try to get some sleep for a change.

“What’s this about?” He asks the officer as he makes his way to the wall opposite the cell door.

The correction officer ignores his question and tells him again to turn around and place both hands on the wall. Garcia is irritated, but turns around and does as he is instructed. This isn’t his first time being imprisoned. In 1998 when he was twenty-three years old, he was working his first stint as an American intelligence asset in Kosovo where he helped train the Kosovo Liberation Army. He was held captive for two weeks by the Yugoslavs when he was caught sneaking into Serbia to help families escape the war. That was a different kind of imprisonment than where he is now, but the treatment has been more or less the same.

He places his hands on the wall and lowers his head. He listens as the cell door is unlocked. He counts the footsteps of the corrections officer so he knows exactly where he is in the cell in case he needs to move to protect himself if this isn’t a friendly visit.

The guards in this prison have treated him like shit. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had his head forcefully pinned up against the wall as they’ve handcuffed him when they’ve come to take him to the cafeteria for meals. He’s received several hard blows to his gut hard enough to knock him to his knees. They’ve spat on him and called him a terrorist, and have threatened him with worse violence.

And he takes it.

He takes it because he doesn’t want to do anything to make matters worse.

Garcia knows he’s not getting out.

Agent Christopher, Homeland Security, and the FBI pushed his case quickly through a private military court where it was ruled that he was guilty of the charges against him. He was sentenced to death by lethal injection.

He knows if he fights back that they won’t hesitate to lock him up in solitary confinement. It’s bad enough that Agent Christopher requested he be kept away from other inmates. His cell is located in the basement cell block, which had been abandoned prior to his incarceration. He’s only allowed out of his cell a few times a day and is under constant supervision when among the general prison population.

Three days ago, a guard came and escorted him outside for his hour of fresh air and sunlight, and he was attacked. It was the first time he fought back since being locked up. He held the man in a choke hold and asked him who he was and why he attacked him. Before the other guards came to the man’s rescue, Garcia learned that his attacker was a member of Rittenhouse. That there are orders to kill him before his death sentence will be carried out. That despite his incarceration, Rittenhouse still viewed him as a threat.

After getting stitched up from his own injuries in the fight, Garcia spent two days in solitary confinement for his bad behavior. He had a lot of time alone to think about what the Rittenhouse agent said. But he couldn’t figure it out. Why Rittenhouse would want him killed before his scheduled lethal injection in a couple years. Typically, a stay on Death Row takes a decade or longer, but his case was considered a special circumstance and his being alive could risk the leak of highly confidential information.

That was the official reason given in court, but he suspected that Rittenhouse played a role in rushing his execution. And now they are sending their agents here to the prison to try to kill him. They want him dead and he doesn’t think they’ll stop until they succeed.

“How does a terrorist like yourself not only manage a quick trial, but gets special permission for a fucking family visit?” The corrections officer is disgusted with Garcia. “I’d put a bullet through your brain myself if they’d let me.”

“Family visit?” Garcia asks out loud, more to himself than to the corrections officer.

When he was arrested, he accepted that he would never see anyone he cared about again. Because Lucy Preston and Agent Christopher set him up, he would never get the chance to try to save his wife and daughter again. His older half-brother, Gabriel, lives in Paris, and he never reached out to try to get to know him after he went back to 1969 to save his life. His brother-in-law, Stiv Casey, died in 1937 at the Hindenburg. Agent Christopher told him that Lucy Preston is missing and presumed dead. The only person he can think of who might want to visit him in prison before he’s killed, is his mother.

Maria Thompkins-Flynn is a stubborn woman. If she found out that her youngest son had been arrested and sentenced to death, there would be nothing in this world to keep her from seeing him one last time.

Garcia knows that his mother will have questions for him. He knows that she’ll ask him if he murdered Lorena and Iris. Just as she’ll ask him if he’s a terrorist.

How will he be able to look into his mother’s eyes and tell her that he is guilty of some of the accusations, but for others he is not? He can’t tell her that he’s a time traveling killer. And what if she remembers him from 1969 when he saved Gabriel? What if she’s figured it all out on her own?

Garcia doesn’t flinch when the corrections officer grabs his wrists and pulls them behind his back. His face slams onto the cold brick wall of his cell. He grimaces, but doesn’t give the officer the satisfaction of knowing that it hurt. The officer cuffs his hands together, turns him around and shoves him out of his cell. Garcia doesn’t fight back. If this officer were a Rittenhouse agent sent to kill him, he would have tried to do it by now. Regardless, he doesn’t let his guard down.

Nothing is said as the officer leads him down the long, empty corridors of the Oakland State Maximum Security Prison. Garcia keeps his head low, but his eyes scan his surroundings. If he could escape from here, he’s certain that he’d be able to breach Mason Industries security again and steal one of the time machines. That is assuming that Agent Christopher was able to find where he hid the Mothership before his arrest six weeks ago.

He’d be a fugitive again if he pulled that off, but what else is new? He’s grown accustomed to living on the run. He’s been a fucking fugitive since Rittenhouse framed him for his family’s murder. He has contacts he trusts and funds hidden around the globe. He would be able to keep a low profile and hire new henchmen to help him to destroy Rittenhouse. Maybe he’d be able to find Lucy and recruit her to his team. By the end of it all, she believed him. She understood what was at stake if Rittenhouse weren’t destroyed. And if anyone in this world could track her down it’s him, that is if she’s not dead as Agent Christopher presumes.

He wonders what the news reports are saying about him. Certainly, time travel and Rittenhouse haven’t been mentioned. Or maybe they have? If anything, maybe Rittenhouse has been exposed, but he doesn’t think anyone would leak that time travel is real. There’d be an entirely different kind of arms race if that information got out. Imagine terrorist organizations stealing the technology to build their own time machines. No, there’s no way the media was given that information.

Agent Christopher has bragged about how her team used Lucy’s grandfather to build a case against public figures who are members of Rittenhouse. The arrests of government officials and corporate lawyers can’t possibly be ignored by the press. Has Agent Christopher given Lucy’s name, and that of Rufus and Wyatt, to the press and painted them the heroes of the story? Forgetting, of course, that he too played a part in orchestrating the plan.

He should have been more careful, but he trusted Lucy. He trusted that it was over. That they had succeeded where the future Lucy who gave him her journal hadn’t. They defeated Rittenhouse before they managed to gain control of the Mothership and change history for themselves. So many trips through time never happened that Lucy wrote about in her journal. They were supposed to become quite the team one day, but he hardly considers working with her once to convince her grandfather to collect evidence against Rittenhouse, as them being a well-oiled team.

He would never save Lucy and Rufus in 1692 when puritans wanted to hang them as witches. They would never live together in some secret bunker near the coast. He would never befriend someone named Jiya. Rufus would never forgive him for having Al Capone try to kill him. And Wyatt would never break her heart. They were supposed to chase Rittenhouse through time and it never happened because they stopped Rittenhouse in their tracks here in 2017.

There’d be no trip back to 1831 to stop Rittenhouse from making Andrew Jackson’s Trail of Tears worse. No trip back to the Hungnam evacuation in North Korea in 1950. Wyatt would never get to fawn over some NASCAR driver named Ryan Millerson. He’d never get to meet Nikola Tesla, and they would never board the Titanic in 1912.

The Titanic… just thinking about Lucy’s journal entry about the Titanic fucked with his heart and mind. She wrote that was the night that he first kissed her as they sat wrapped in blankets in one of the eighteen lifeboats used to save passengers that cold April morning in 1912. That was the event that made them face the truth of how they felt for each other. She wrote about how after surviving the Titanic, they were inseparable.

That they were in love.

He read through the entire journal that night in São Paulo. He read through it so many times after that night. He has memorized many of Lucy’s entries word-for-word. He could recite them aloud if asked.

After he first read it, he almost threw it in the garbage it made him so angry. He was two weeks out from losing his wife and daughter to murder. He had been contemplating suicide, thinking that was the only way he’d be able to be with them again: through his death. He never wanted or expected to be able to fall in love again.

And there it was in Lucy’s journal.

He kissed her and she kissed him back. Once they returned from 1912, they slept together in his bed. They didn’t make love until a couple weeks later when they were certain a relationship was what they wanted. That it wasn’t just a reaction to having survived one of the most horrific events of the twentieth century.

Garcia had felt so much anger in his heart when he first read her journal.

Anger at his future self for falling in love again, for betraying Lorena. But the more time he spent with the journal, the more he felt he knew Lucy. The more he came to care for her. Once they started meeting in time, he got to see her in action and was even more impressed by her. She proved time and again that maybe, just maybe, he could love her. He hated that she found a way into his heart just as much as he loved the way she challenged him. The way they bantered and argued with each other, always with respect. The way she reminded him how it felt to laugh and smile again. He’d never admit it aloud, but his present self was falling for her.

Even now, even after she betrayed him… he is in love with Lucy Preston.

Now that she is presumed dead, it hurts knowing what they could have had together in another timeline. Six weeks ago, when he met her and returned her journal, he had hoped that they’d be able to maintain some kind of friendship. He wasn’t expecting her to fall in love with him. It was obvious that she was falling in love with Wyatt, but he wanted her friendship. He had been without friends for nearly three years. Lucy seemed like the kind of person he would enjoy meeting up with for a drink once or twice a week where they could discuss literature or history. She interested him intellectually and that’s what attracted him to her the most.

She was strong, independent and didn’t take shit from him – or anyone else for that matter. She wasn’t afraid to get up in his face and tell him that he was wrong and that there were better ways to get things done. She was smart, sexy, and every goddamn thing he likes and wants in a woman. He would go to the end of the world and back, do anything for her. If he were handed a second chance to prove himself to her, to work with her, he’d take it in a heartbeat.

But there’s no chance of that happening now that she’s dead and he’s rotting on Death Row.

He can only hope that the information Lucy’s grandfather collected has been enough to stop Rittenhouse for good. Because if it didn’t, he has no way of fighting them behind these prison walls. The only man who could possibly help him is Karl. But the thing with Karl is that he is motivated by money, not friendship or loyalty. And Garcia knows that without outside assistance, breaking out of this maximum security prison is damn near impossible.

The corrections officer leads Garcia into a bright white room with a single steel table pressed against the wall, and bolted to the concrete floor. Two other corrections officers stand on either side of it. The door closes behind him and he is instructed to strip off all his clothes and piss into a cup for a drug and alcohol test. All which must be done before he’s allowed to be reunited with his family.

Garcia knows better than to be a smartass about this. One fuck up and he risks not seeing his mother at all. And considering he doesn’t even qualify for family visits; he’s not going to press his luck. This could be the last visit he has with anyone outside these walls until they carry out his death sentence.

He does as he’s told.

After an invasive search of his body, the three officers leave him alone in the room. He gets dressed back into his orange prison jumpsuit and waits for the results of the drug and alcohol test to come back. When it comes back clean, he’ll be escorted to – as one of the officers told him – the “private family visiting area.” This indicates to him that his mother might have scheduled a couple day’s stay with him at a prison housing unit. He was expecting to visit with her for an hour with a phone, behind a glass partition. He wonders what kind of strings his mother pulled to get a private visit.

What if…?

No.

What if Rittenhouse went back and changed his mother’s history so that she is now Rittenhouse? What if securing this private visitation was because of them? What if they sent her here to kill him? If that’s the case, he knows he won’t be able to fight her. He wouldn’t be able to hurt or kill his own mother, not even in self-defense. He loves her too much.

The door to the room opens and a different corrections officer stands in its frame. Garcia has met him before. His name is Doug and he’s one of the few in this place that treats him with respect. Doug has spent almost his entire career at this prison, and expects to retire within the next couple years. He’s almost as tall as Garcia and has a full head of grey hair.

”You comin’ or not?” Doug asks. “You got just over two days outside these walls. Don’t think you want to waste ‘em staring at me.”

Garcia holds his breath, unable to breathe. His heart is pounding in his chest, blood rings in his ears. He feels light-headed and his soul aches with unimaginable pain.

He is going to see his mother.

He is going to see his mother for the first time since the summer before Rittenhouse murdered his family. Before he got involved with time travel. Before he was named a terrorist and a traitor to this country. He feels sick to his stomach. He also feels that nervous excitement he had as a boy the night before the first day of school. He’s light-headed and takes a deep breath.

He holds his arms out to the officer expecting to be handcuffed again.

“No need for cuffs, Flynn.” Doug shoots him a sympathetic smile. “Follow me and I’ll get you to your housing unit.”

The five minutes it takes to walk down the empty corridor seems to take a lifetime. Garcia and Doug don’t exchange any other pleasantries between them. Garcia thinks about what he is going to say to his mother. He wonders what she will say to him. Would her eyes reflect heartache and shame? Would she be angry with him? Would she cry? She loved Lorena and Iris as much as he did. Would she think him capable of murder? Would she yell at him or slap him across the face believing he murdered his girls?

Would she believe him if he told her he had been set up?

He needs to apologize to her for what his actions have put her through. These past few years couldn’t have been easy on her. The not knowing where he was or what really happened. Not being able to hear his side of the story and only relying on the news media for answers. She must know that Lorena’s family refused to believe he killed his girls. They made sure to refer to Lorena as “wife” on hers and Iris’s gravestone. He can’t imagine that his mother never visited the site after their deaths. She loved them both so much.

Garcia wonders if his older half-brother, Gabriel, would be with her? He’s never met him before and has no idea what their relationship was like after he saved his life in 1969.

All he knows for certain is that there is no way in Hell that he’s going to even whisper the name Rittenhouse to them. He doesn’t want to risk his mother looking into the organization just as he had. He doesn’t want her finding something that flags her for execution. As much as he hopes the arrests made destroyed Rittenhouse, he’s also considered the fact that Rittenhouse is a century’s old worldwide organization. There could be more members out there taking the reins. Obviously, he’s right, otherwise they wouldn’t have sent an assassin to try to kill him.

The sunlight catches him off-guard and he raises his hands up to shield his eyes from the blinding evening sun. There’s a cool, gentle breeze which blows a strand of hair across his forehead. He squints his eyes as he runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. He hasn’t been outside since the last Rittenhouse agent tried to kill him a few days ago.

Doug drives him around the exterior of the prison complex toward the private family visitation housing units. He knows that this might be the last time he’ll have a taste of freedom. Once this visit is over, he’ll be back in his prison cell until the day of his execution. Whether that execution is by the state or at the hands of a Rittenhouse agent, remains to be seen.

The visitation area is composed of three small one-story duplexes. Each unit is surrounded by a chain-link fence with a razor wire top. The units are situated not far from a prison watchtower. Outside each unit is a grill and a couple pieces of patio furniture. There are no bars on the windows and behind the unit is a vast pasture where trees and flowers are blooming.

Blood drains from Garcia’s face as his heart pounds in his chest. He can’t remember the protocol. Would his mother already be here, or is he brought here first?

“She said that she’d be bringing you some clothes so you don’t have to wear that godawful orange jumpsuit all weekend.” Doug tells him as he gets out of the car.

Garcia follows him without saying a word. As much as he wants to see his mother, he fears what he might see in her eyes when she looks at him.

“We also filled up the fridge with food that she requested. You’ll be able to make your own meals.” Doug watches Garcia as he scans the area. “Feel free to use the grill outside if you want to barbeque.”

Garcia follows Doug as he unlocks the gate of the fence and leads him inside the visitation unit. Immediately to his right is a small kitchen complete with a stove top, oven, microwave, sink, and refrigerator. Straight ahead of him is the living room. There’s a faux leather couch and matching recliner situated in front of a widescreen television and window. There are several different magazines laid out on the coffee table. The bedroom is to his left and includes an attached bathroom. Garcia looks at the door to the bathroom and points at it.

“There’s a door.” Garcia says with a chuckle.

Doug nods his head, “All inmates like the door to the bathroom.”

“It’ll be nice to shower without an audience.”

“Or with an audience, if you know what I mean.” Doug winks.

Garcia raises his brow. No, he has no idea what he means. Why would Doug say that about his mother?

Outside, another car pulls up to the unit and comes to a stop. Garcia hears the car doors slam shut. There’s talking but he’s too far away to hear what’s being said. He closes his eyes, trying to prepare himself for what comes next. This might be worse than his prison sentence; coming face-to-face with his mother. He’s struck by deep shame. His face flushes red and he doesn’t know what to do with his arms.

First, he crosses his arms in front of his chest. Then he runs his hand through his hair and nervously licks his bottom lip. He feels like he’s ten years old again and in trouble for using a magnifying glass to accidentally set the living room carpet on fire at his grandmother’s home.

The silhouette of a woman approaches the front door of the unit. She’s carrying her own overnight bags. He sees that she’s wearing a bulky sweatshirt, and sweatpants. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail. Not exactly his mother’s style, but women are told not to dress up for visitations. In fact, women can be denied entry to visitation areas in the prison for wearing inappropriate clothes.

“Ma’am.” Doug says as he steps aside to allow her entry into the unit.

“Please don’t call me ma’am.” She tells him. “It’s Lucy.”

She turns her back to Doug and the officer who escorted her here.

She looks at Garcia and gives him a warm smile. She has no idea how he’s going to react to seeing her. She’s hopeful yet… scared. She knows that if he wants to be, he can be the most dangerous man in the world.

The expression on his face has gone from nervous anxiety to burning anger. Lucy Preston is to blame for his being here. Lucy Preston set him up. Lucy Preston is the reason why he never saved Lorena and Iris. He’s quick to wipe the anger off his face and keeps himself from marching right up to her to demand answers of her.

There’s a sparkle in her eyes that indicates she’s happy to see him, but also begs of him to go along with whatever lie she’s told to get her here without question. She bites her lower lip and looks back at the officers to make sure it’s all right for her to approach Garcia. Doug nods his head.

Before Garcia can process what is happening, Lucy’s arms are wrapped around his neck. She places a kiss on his cheek.

“I’ve missed you so much.” She tells him in a whispered breath.

What. the. fuck is Lucy Preston doing here?

She is supposed to be dead. That’s what Agent Christopher had told him. He has so many questions for her but can’t yet ask them, not with Doug and the other officer standing right there. His heart is pounding so hard that he’s sure Lucy can hear it. He feels elated, but also angry.

He’s conflicted.

On one hand, it is good to see her again. He thought she was dead and he’d never have a chance to apologize to her for so many things, to make things right between them, to be her friend – or the very least a friendly acquaintance. But on the other hand, he blames her for her role in his arrest. He blames her for not being able to go back and save his girls.

If she’s here to gather intel from him about Rittenhouse there’s no way that he’s going to help her, not unless she gets him out of this shit hole first. If Rittenhouse is still a threat, that’s on her goddamn shoulders, not his. She proved to him exactly what she thought of him. She claimed that she knew he wasn’t a monster, but six weeks ago she was standing in front of him, acting as if she was surprised when law enforcement officers placed him under arrest. She treated him like shit in the end, and she deserves no better from him.

Her hand is touching his arm, and she’s smiling up at him, and God help him he loves her. He can’t let his feelings for her get in the way. That’s how you get screwed over in the first place. He needs to separate his heart from his mind.

He looks down at Lucy, daggers in his eyes. He thinks that he sees fear in her eyes, she inhales sharply and rubs her hand on his arm, perhaps in an effort to calm him. He watches her. Maybe it’s in the way she looked up at him, maybe it was in the way she took a breath, or the way she’s touching his arm, but there’s something… different.

Something has changed in her.

Just like him, she must have been through a lot these past six weeks, and that whatever happened can’t be good. He sets aside the anger that was manifesting toward her and does what he can to soothe her fear. To assure her that he’s not going to expose her lie and get her in trouble with the officers. If he did that then he would never know the reason for her visit.

He kisses the top of her head and caresses the back of her neck with his fingertips.

“Moja draga…” He takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles, holding her hand over his heart. He feels anger burning through his veins.

All this time, Agent Christopher must have known that Lucy was alive and well. He had told Agent Christopher during her first interrogation that he would only talk to Lucy, and she had lied straight-faced to him that she was presumed dead. Any hope that he had left died with Lucy. He had been brought back to his cell and stared at himself long and hard in the mirror.

Who was he without Lucy? Who was he without her journal? The past couple of years her journal defined him. Even though Lucy played a role in his arrest, she understood him, or at least he thought she understood him. She was the only person in the world that believed in him. She believed in him when even he had given up on himself.

He loves her. God damn him, he does.

But in the end, she betrayed him, Agent Christopher lied to him about her death, and Lucy must have instructed her to do it. He hopes she feels guilty, seeing him standing here in this damn orange jumpsuit. He hopes it haunts her that he’s been sentenced to death by lethal injection. He hopes that she has trouble sleeping at night.

Lucy rests her head against his chest and lets out a sigh.

Garcia tries to reel back in his anger, but Lucy is accepting his silent assurances that he’s not going to do anything to jeopardize her visit. Despite her feigning love for him, he knows that she’s here to use him. She’s either here to gather intel on Rittenhouse for Agent Christopher, or…

He feels a ring on her finger as he caresses her knuckles.

The anger is rising in him again… If it weren’t for Lucy, he would have Lorena and Iris back. He’d not be sentenced to death. He trusted Lucy with his family. He trusted her with his child. And now she’s here, alone… and for what? A conjugal visit?

Beneath his calm exterior, he is seething.

He wants to push her away and yell at her for what she’s done. Force her up against that wall, frighten her as he’s never done before, and ask her why the fuck she’s here. He wants to hurt her just as much as she’s hurt him.

Doug and the other officer watch them to make sure that it is safe to leave them alone. Fortunately for Garcia, neither officer has any clue about the anger raging inside him. Doug looks like he’s waiting for their reunion to end so he can tell them something before he leaves.

“Garcia…” Lucy says his name as a whisper as she gently caresses the stubble on his face.

Fuck her for using his first name.

The sound of his name on her lips is too… intimate, too personal. It both warms his goddamn heart and chills him to the bone. That’s one wall that he does not want Lucy to tear down between them, not after her betrayal. He stares down into her brown eyes as a warning to not push this façade too far. He wants her to understand that he does not want her calling him by his first name.

Lucy swallows hard and averts her eyes, unable to hold his gaze. She knows now that he is not happy to see her. There’s a part of her that fears what will happen once the officers leave, but there’s the other part of her that trusts Garcia absolutely will not hurt her. He has never been able to hurt her.

But… could he?

Lucy sees anger in his eyes. Whatever happens, she knows it’s not going to be pleasant.

Doug clears his throat so he can say his piece.

“The times we need you to step outside each day for roll-call are posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen. If you’re late to roll-call the prison reserves the right to stop this visitation and escort your wife off the premises.” Doug pauses and looks from Garcia to Lucy. “Complimentary condoms and lubricant are in the drawer of the nightstand. You are expected to tidy the place up before the end of your stay. You are not under audio or video surveillance as that would be a violation of your wife’s privacy. All phones are hooked up to prison security. If they are disconnected or picked up a security officer will arrive and the visitation ends.” Doug looks at Lucy. “We want you to feel one-hundred percent safe here during your stay, ma’am.”

Lucy smiles at the officer and stops herself from letting out a disgruntled huff at the word ma’am. She steps away from Garcia and approaches Doug, a sweet smile on her face.

“Now, why wouldn’t I feel safe with my own husband?” She asks. “I am the one who set up this visitation as a surprise for him in the first place. If I thought he was a threat to me, do you really think that I’d be here?” She places her hand on Doug’s arm and laughs sweet as cherry pie.

Just like that, Doug is under her spell. She’s charming, sweet, and beautiful. No man stands a chance against her when she turns on that kind of charm. Even Garcia smiles, he can’t help himself. There’s the Lucy Preston that he admired, the one who was always able to get one up on him. The Lucy he got to know from the journal. The Lucy Preston he fell in love with. He’s humored that she has bypassed the scrutiny of a maximum security prison. Even when he’s angry with her, she never fails to impress him.

Doug looks at Garcia and nods.

“She scheduled two full days with you. Tomorrow and Sunday. We’ll pick her up first thing Monday morning after roll-call.” He clears his throat. “Don’t think about gettin’ smart on us. The watchtower is right out here, and you’ll be expected to show your face each morning and night so we know you’re still here.”

“I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.” The other officer chimes in, disgusted. “How a guy like that wound up with a gal like this, I’ll never understand.”

Doug gives the other officer a shut-your-mouth look.

“I’m just a lucky guy.” Garcia responds, flashing the other officer a smile.

He just wants the officers to leave so he can find out why Lucy is here. How is she not dead? He’s almost positive that it has something to do with Rittenhouse. Lucy wrote about how she and Agent Christopher visited him in prison, needing his help to track Rittenhouse in the past. But she never wrote about them having a conjugal visit. Is this a result of history changing or was this visit something that Lucy chose not to write about in her journal?

Lucy closes the door behind the two officers and turns the lock. The smiles disappear from both their faces now that they are alone.

Her hand rests on the door, and she hesitates to turn around to face Garcia. Her back is to him just long enough for tension to build. She takes a short breath and exhales, starting to turn just as Garcia grabs her and whips her around to face him. He pulls her close to him. He’s in her face, his grip tight enough on her arm that it will leave bruises. He has no intention of letting her go.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Lucy?” He growls.

Lucy’s eyes are wide and for the first time in a long time, she’s afraid of him.

It’s been six weeks since his arrest and since then he’s been tried in a military court and sentenced to death. She didn’t expect a warm welcome, and she certainly did not expect him to get physical with her. She looks into his eyes. They are angry, dilated. For a moment, Lucy considers fighting him to run out the front door and have the officers escort her to safety. But she’s here for a reason.

“We have a lot to talk about, Flynn.”

“You got me thrown in here… a fucking death sentence!” He growls at her as he pushes her back up against the wall, pinning her to it. “What were you thinking, Lucy?!” His jaw protrudes as he looks down on her, his eyes filled with hurt and anger. “You set me up and you have the gall to-”

“You’re hurting me!” She yells at him, refusing to allow his strength and size intimidate her. She struggles against him to free her arm. He holds onto her tighter. She grunts trying to free herself and then screams at him, “I SAID LET GO!”

“Why are you here, Lucy?” He lowers his voice.

He towers over her. His eyes are on fire and he’s Hell bent on getting every answer he needs from her, no matter what he has to do to get them.

“Are you checking up on me?” He raises his other hand and reaches for her throat. Maybe a touch more intimidation – a threat of violence – will make her talk. But Lucy hits his hand hard.

“No! Don’t!” She begs, her voice wavering.

Under normal circumstances, he would listen to her. But he is angry so he defies all common sense and does it anyway. He presses his hand against her collarbone and slides his fingers up until they curl around her neck. He doesn’t squeeze, just holds his hand against her skin to make her think he could hurt her if he wanted to.

He’s angry, yes, but he doesn’t want to hurt her.

She whimpers, giving into him.

Her back slides down the wall as her legs give out on her.

The sound of her cry sends a jolt straight through his heart. He immediately releases her, feeling guilty for scaring her in the first place. He knows he shouldn’t have done that.

He steps back and looks at her.

She’s touching her neck and looking at the floor, unable or too afraid to meet his gaze. He shakes his head to himself and approaches her again. No. He can’t give her an inch if he wants to keep the upper hand here. He goes to her again and presses his hand firm, but more gently against her shoulder to keep her pinned against the wall.

He does not touch her neck.

Lucy’s eyes are shimmering with tears that she’s refusing to let fall. She holds as strong as she can against his intimidations. She knows that he would never hurt her. Intimidation, yes, but not actual, physical pain. She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Rittenhouse… is that why you’re here?” He asks, attempting to remain calm.

She lowers her eyes and stops fighting against him. “Yes.” She looks up at him. “Of course, I’m here because of Rittenhouse. What other reason would I have?”

It is his turn to lower his eyes. He’d be lying if he said he never thought of a day when Lucy might want to visit him because she cared for him in some way. He wants to tell her how thankful he is that she’s ok, that she’s not dead as Agent Christopher believes, but if he did then he would be revealing too much of how he feels for her. He releases his hold on her shoulder and steps away from her.

He is no longer a threat.

“Rittenhouse has the Mothership.” She hesitates. “The Lifeboat… it was…” She shakes her head and looks at him, not caring that her eyes are filled with tears.

“What happened, Lucy?” His voice is soft now. He recognizes her heartache.

“You mean you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Rittenhouse blew up Mason Industries. The explosion destroyed the Lifeboat and…” She swallows hard and shuts her eyes. “… Wyatt, Rufus and Jiya, along with twenty other Mason Industries employees are presumed dead.” She wipes a tear from her cheek and apologizes for crying. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He wets his bottom lip and steps toward her. “They were your friends.”

Garcia steps toward her with the intention of placing a caring hand on her shoulder. She flinches at his touch and she steps away from him. He retracts the gesture, guilt again flooding through him, and watches her walk into the living room.

“Agent Christopher told me you were presumed dead too. That Rittenhouse got to you-”

“I… I was with my mother when it happened. The explosion.”

“Your mother, who is Rittenhouse.” He says so she knows that he’s aware of this fact.

Lucy spins around, her eyes wide. “How did you know that? The journal?” She asks.

“No. Agent Christopher mentioned your mother was Rittenhouse in one of her many interrogations.” He pauses. “It wasn’t in your journal.”

“Agent Christopher is alive?” Lucy is genuinely surprised. She had been told that there were no survivors except for Connor Mason.

“She’s been in here once a week to interrogate me.”

“How…? I thought…”

Lucy is confused. No. She is hurt.

Her mother is still lying to her, expecting her to willingly accept whatever Rittenhouse tells her, all in the hope that she adopts their twisted ideology and joins the organization.

“I could ask the same thing about you, Lucy. I was told you were dead, but here you are. You were with your mother when they killed Wyatt and Rufus. How do I know that you’re not one of them now?” He looks for her reaction. “Is that why you’re here? To kill me?”

“No. I…” Lucy looks away from him. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she feels sick. “I came here to see if you’re still interested in helping me fight Rittenhouse. I want to finish what we started. I want to take down Rittenhouse for good.”

“You do know that I’m incarcerated, don’t you?”

“Of course. I-”

“You stopped me from taking down Rittenhouse over and over again, Lucy.”

“Not anymore. I’ll do whatever it takes now.” She’s practically begging him now.

“Really?” He sneers at her. “What? You’re going to kill your own mother? Your hero who secretly groomed you, programmed you since you were a child to become one of them? And you blindly obeyed your whole life, begging for her approval like a lap dog.” He laughs and shakes his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but it just doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“They murdered your wife and daughter. You want to avenge their deaths? You can have a chance to save them or you can keep being a smug, stubborn ass and rot knowing that their deaths were in vain.”

Garcia’s heart is pounding in his chest and it takes everything for him not to lash out at her for bringing up his family. He wants desperately to get out of prison, to join Lucy in the fight against Rittenhouse. To save his family.

 She’s not lying when she calls him a stubborn ass.

“I’ve been… playing along with them.” Lucy continues when he says nothing. “Pretending that I want to join them, to be Rittenhouse. That’s how I was able to get in here to see you.”

“As my wife?” He’s not amused.

“I couldn’t risk walking in here and being turned away because I was just a friend or your girlfriend. I used Rittenhouse resources to forge a marriage certificate.” She rolls her eyes at this. “In the eyes of the law, well… on paper, we are… man and wife.” She holds up her hand so he can see that she’s wearing a wedding ring.

“I can help you fight them if you can get me out of here.” He says, matter-of-fact, although he can’t deny that his heart flutters at the thought that they are married.

“I don’t…” She shakes her head and sits down on the couch. She leans forward to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t know how to get you out of here, and I don’t know how I can fight them on my own.” She looks up at him. “One-hundred and fifty people were arrested worldwide, most right here in the United States. That number is not a loss for them. It doesn’t stop them. They are rebuilding leadership and I fear that they will become even more powerful.”

“Rittenhouse has been around for almost two-hundred and forty years. It’ll take a lot more than a few arrests to take them down.” He pauses. “That’s why I had to steal the Mothership. The only way they can be stopped is in the past. That’s what you said in your journal.”

“Even if I was able to steal the Mothership from them, I can’t pilot it. I have no way to go back. No way to fight them. My mother won’t even let me go with them on trips back in time. I have no idea what history has been changed and that terrifies me.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “It terrifies me that history has changed around us, affected us, and we don’t even know it.”

Garcia nods his head.

“Are you going to go back to them? After this weekend?” He asks.

“I don’t see any way out of it. My mother dropped me off. She thinks I’m here to use you for information.” She stands up and goes to him. “I need you, Flynn. You’re the only one left besides me who wants to destroy them.”

He looks down at her as she places both of her hands on his arms. She’s desperate for his help, yet… there’s still something that doesn’t feel right.

“Well, Lucy… thanks to you and Agent Christopher, there’s not much I can do to help you from in here.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, and turns and heads toward the bedroom. He picks up both of Lucy’s overnight bags and carries them into the room with him. He clears his throat to change the subject. “I was told you were bringing me a change of clothes?”

Lucy’s heart races and she runs into the bedroom after him.

“Yes, I uh…” She grabs one of the overnight bags from him before he can open it and rummage through her belongings. “They’re in the other bag.”

He gives her a look, raising his brow. He chuckles and asks, “Afraid I was going to see your bra and panties?”

He opens the other bag and retrieves clean white socks and black boxer shorts. He looks up at her and winks. Lucy rolls her eyes at him, just slightly nervous. She watches as he pulls out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt which she picked out for him. She had only ever seen him dressed in clothing to fit the era he traveled back to, and she’d be lying if she said she was never curious to see what he looked like in a good pair of Levi’s and a snug black t-shirt.

“I had to guess your size so, I hope everything fits all right.” She tells him.

“I’m more of a boxer briefs kind of guy, but this’ll do.”

Lucy feels her cheeks turn red and she adjusts her grip on her overnight bag.

Garcia watches her carefully, curious to know what is in the bag she holds so tightly against her chest. He sets the clean clothes down on the foot of the queen size bed, on top of its navy-blue comforter. And without a word and with all the confidence in the world, he locks eyes with her as he unzips his prison jumpsuit. He strips it off his body and removes his prison issue white undershirt and boxer shorts.

He stands in front of her naked, wanting her to see the full extent of what he’s been through in just six weeks.

Lucy looks at him and it pains her heart to see that there are bruises covering his body. She swallows hard, returning her gaze to his hazel-green eyes. Behind those eyes she sees a man in pain. She’s not the reason why he’s here, but she knows that he still blames her. She knows that he wants her to see what he’s been through since he was arrested.

She feels guilty.

She knows that she had nothing to do with his arrest. She knows that Agent Christopher followed her to get to him, but she still feels guilty for it and everything he’s endured while behind these prison walls.

He deserved better.

In the end, he did the right thing. He deserved a chance to save his family. He doesn’t deserve imprisonment. Nor does he deserve the kind of treatment that leaves his body riddled with bruises.

He deserved a full pardon for his actions, not a death sentence.

Garcia lowers his eyes, seeing her guilt. He had wanted to make a smartass remark to her about seeing him naked. But she’s standing in front of him, her eyes scanning his badly bruised body, and she looks like she could cry.

He feels bad and seeing her so upset breaks his heart.

While Agent Christopher didn’t say that Lucy had nothing to do with his arrest, he thought long and hard about how she had been with him before it happened. He knew, without doubt, that Lucy Preston believed in him, knew that he was a good man. She wanted him to save his girls, for him to be a father again.

There was no way she would take part in setting him up for arrest and he should just stop trying to convince himself that she was.

It’s just that she was the easiest person for him to blame since she’s the one he knew best. He didn’t care about Agent Christopher. He didn’t give a damn about Wyatt or Rufus. He cared about Lucy and he figures that maybe if he told himself she set him up, he could convince himself that he didn’t care for her, that he didn’t love her. He takes a breath and slowly exhales, licks his lips, and then excuses himself from the room.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He gestures to the bathroom behind him. “I’m going to close the door… I don’t get much privacy… here.”

Lucy can’t find words to say so she nods her head, still clutching her overnight bag against her chest. She watches as he disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The shower runs and she bends over and exhales in relief. She had no idea how this would go. Seeing Garcia Flynn for the first time since his arrest. She expected anger. She expected him to raise his voice with her. And she expected the threat of violence against her, but she wasn’t expecting him to calm down so soon. Nor was she expecting him to stand naked before her, making sure she could see the abuse he’s endured.

The sight of him covered with deep purple bruises breaks her heart. What he must have been through… she shakes her head. This visit wasn’t completely guaranteed. Lucy requested it, but it depended on his behavior. If Garcia had initiated any fight, they would have denied him this visit. That means that each one of those bruises he obtained without fighting back. If he wanted to hurt her by showing her his bruises, he succeeded.

Tears sting her eyes and she quickly wipes them away, trying to force any emotional reaction to a place where it cannot be felt. It’s easier to cope if she can act like this – all of this – doesn’t hurt.

She sits down on the edge of the bed. Her hands shake as she opens her overnight bag. She glances at the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s going on seven o’clock. She rummages through her bag and removes her pajamas. She doesn’t have much options for clothing at Rittenhouse headquarters so she brought a light grey camisole and matching pants. She removes her light-weight burgundy robe, her toiletries bag, and some books that she brought in case Garcia wanted to spend the time reading instead of talking to her.

Lucy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

She reaches into the bag for one more item.

A gun.

In order to prove her loyalty to Rittenhouse, her mother insisted that she kill Garcia Flynn.

Lucy doesn’t see any way out of this. If she doesn’t obey this order, Rittenhouse will kill her. If she doesn’t obey this order then she won’t be able to try to stop them. If she doesn’t obey this order… Rittenhouse wins.

She stares at the bathroom door and listens to the running water. She looks down at the weapon in her hand. Her mother gave her this gun. Her mother told her she needed to kill Garcia Flynn before the end of this weekend. She was told that Rittenhouse had a man inside the prison who would escort her off the premises after she completed her mission.

Her mother kissed her on the cheek before handing her this gun, and showing her how to use it. She told her that killing Garcia Flynn is the only way that she could prove her loyalty to her and to Rittenhouse.

That there was no other way.

Lucy blinks, forcing herself to stand up and trying to forget about everything her mother had been to her before she found out she was Rittenhouse. Her mother had been her friend. Someone she could call and tell her how she was stuck in traffic for two hours on her way home from class. She confided in her about her love life, or lack thereof. She wanted to make her mother proud. She turned down a job at a smaller university in order to teach at the history department built by and named after her mother here in California. They even wrote a couple books together.

But the woman she loved is a monster.

Her mother believes whole-heartedly that she, her daughter is capable of murder.

Lucy struggles with this revelation the most.

She removes her oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants and changes into her pajamas, wrapping herself in her burgundy robe to keep warm. She pulls the elastic band from her hair and lets it fall around her shoulders.

She picks up the gun and leaves the bedroom to find a suitable place to hide it until she can work up the nerve to… do as her mother instructed.

Lucy has become numb and being here, alone with Garcia has tapped in on emotions she learned to bury. Over the past six weeks at Rittenhouse, she’s learned that it’s best to shove all emotion aside and deal with whatever came at her with indifference. The first week with Rittenhouse broke her spirit and the weeks following were spent trying to convince her that Rittenhouse was doing good, that they had great plans for the future. Her mother’s touch was cold and heartless. Her loving words, empty.

When Garcia placed his hand around her neck, it didn’t hurt, but she allowed herself to feel afraid anyway. She hasn’t felt anything for too long. Garcia’s touch wasn’t heartless. It was filled with fire, passion, and anger. His words came from his heart. What he said wasn’t meant to manipulate or indoctrinate her. When he saw her fear, he backed off. He cared for her in a way that even her mother doesn’t.

This shook her.

Someone in this world still cares for her.

Garcia Flynn.

And being here with him has allowed her the freedom to feel again. She doesn’t know what it is about him, but he inspires confidence in herself. He allows her to feel. And it doesn’t matter what it is that she feels, he just wants her to – inspires her to – be honest with herself. He wants her to be Lucy Preston. Not the Lucy Preston that her mother or Rittenhouse wants her to be, or who Wyatt wanted her to be, or Rufus, or Agent Christopher, or even… or even Amy.

He treats her differently than the others.

He’s not afraid to grab her by the neck if she gets in his way and throw her down to complete a mission. He’s not afraid to raise his voice with her, and she discovered that she isn’t afraid to do the same. And that was exhilarating.

The first time she faced him after the Hindenburg was in 1865, just the second trip back in time. She called him a son-of-a-bitch to his face and yelled at him because Amy disappeared. He told her that he was here to right some wrongs, that he wasn’t trying to destroy America, but he was trying to save it.  When he told her outright that he wasn’t threatening her, she believed him. He wasn’t trying to kill her or her team and it was in that moment that she knew he would never hurt her.

That night, she tried to stop him. He grabbed her by the neck and threw her down onto a couch in the balcony where he had assassinated President Lincoln. His grip on her neck didn’t hurt, the action only scared her. She grabbed a gun from her purse and aimed it at him, but he looked at her and she couldn’t pull the trigger.

Lucy squeezes her eyes shut and stifles back a cry.

She opens her eyes and looks at the gun in her hand.

If he catches her with it there’s no doubt that he’ll fight for his life, and she’ll fight back. She’ll push him as far as she can. She wants him to hurt her so she knows she’s alive. That she can still feel something, anything.

But could he kill her in self-defense?

She shakes that thought from her head as she kneels down and opens the cabinet doors underneath the kitchen sink. She removes the liquid dish soap and places it on the counter, next to the sink. Then she places the gun in the far corner of the cabinet. It’s not the best hiding place, but if the dish soap is out on the kitchen counter then maybe he won’t find it.

She quietly closes the cabinet doors and stands up. Her eyes fall on the cutlery block. There are plenty of knives that he could use to fight her. She knows that if she is going to do this that she has to kill him with her first shot otherwise she will fail. He’s an experienced fighter and there’s no way that she, a historian, will be able to hold her own against him.

If she succeeds then she would truly be alone.

She makes her way back to the bedroom and picks up the books that she brought, moving them out to the living room and placing them on the coffee table: To Kill a Mockingbird, A Farewell to Arms, The Book Thief, 1984 and All the President’s Men. She has no idea what he likes to read so she brought some of her personal favorites. She’s fidgety and doesn’t want to sit down and pretend that she was reading this whole time.

The shower isn’t running anymore and soon he’ll join her.

She goes back into the kitchen. She can make them something to eat. She can only imagine the shit for food that Garcia has been fed while incarcerated. She gets out two plates and starts to make sandwiches: whole wheat bread, deli-sliced oven-roasted turkey breast, mayonnaise, mustard, hamburger pickles, spinach, cheddar cheese, spicy barbeque sauce and… she looks around to see what else she can put in their sandwiches. She picks up a jar of crunchy peanut butter and dips the butter knife into it.

“You changed.”

Garcia’s voice stops her from spreading the peanut butter on the sandwiches. She quickly turns around with the peanut buttered knife in hand and looks at him. His hair is still wet from his shower. She didn’t bring him a razor so he wasn’t able to shave. Though he’s cleaned up he looks handsomely disheveled. He’s barefoot and in the black t-shirt and jeans she picked out for him. She eyes him from head to toe without a word.

He looks… good.

Garcia exhales and tries not to laugh as he watches Lucy checking him out. Lorena once told him that if he was fresh out of the shower, neglected to shave, wore a black t-shirt and was barefoot in Levi’s, that he could accidentally stain the carpet with red wine, or even burn the house down, and she would forgive him and take him to bed that instant and have her way with him.

“Lorena used to look at me like that too.” He says as he looks from the knife in her hand to the sandwiches on the counter. “She said that the uh… scruff… did things to her. I don’t know what she meant by that,” He winks, “but we always uh… had a nice night.”

“Um… I… uh…”

“You’re making dinner?” He asks, changing the subject.

Lucy blinks her eyes, trying to figure out if he was flirting with her. She takes a deep breath to compose herself. This is Garcia Flynn she’s dealing with. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with her.

“What do you mean I ‘changed?’” She asks, curious about what observations he’s made of her in the short time they’ve been reunited.

“Your clothes.” He nods his head at her, meaning her pajamas and burgundy robe. “Looks better than the oversized sweats you were in.” He smiles.

“Oh.”

Lucy nervously rubs her finger under her nose and places a strand of hair behind her ear. He is definitely flirting with her. Why? To make her uncomfortable and fumbling over her words? What does that accomplish?

He picks up a plate and takes it to the small dining table. He inspects the sandwich and though it’s not exactly appetizing, he eats it. It has to be better than the food he’s had in the prison cafeteria.

“I don’t recommend adding peanut butter to yours, Lucy.” He says while chewing. “Doesn’t go well with mustard or…” He swallows hard.  “… barbeque.”

Lucy licks the peanut butter off the knife and joins him at the table. She takes a bite out of her sandwich and grimaces. How is he eating this with a straight face? How could anyone eat this? She sets her sandwich back down on her plate with no intention of finishing it.

She watches Garcia as he takes another bite of his sandwich. She winces. Unless this is some kind of gourmet sandwich in Croatia, it’s just not possible that he actually thinks it tastes good.

“You don’t have to finish eating that on my account.” She tells him.

“It’s ok.” He swallows. “It’s better than the meals they feed me in prison.”

Silence engulfs them as Garcia finishes his meal. They move around the kitchen cleaning up, exchanging polite “excuse me” and “sorrys” as they maneuver around each other. Garcia picks up Lucy’s sandwich and finishes it for her as she washes the plates and butter knife in the sink. Once the kitchen is clean, they stand, leaning against the counters, looking at each other.

Lucy wants nothing more than to get off her feet and relax. Living at Rittenhouse headquarters has been stressful and emotionally damaging. She just wants time to herself without her mother buzzing around her like a fly, pestering her over every little detail about what she’s learned, or how she spends her spare time. Like Garcia, this is a taste of freedom she hadn’t expected. But she doesn’t want to leave Garcia alone for fear that he’ll find the gun under the kitchen sink.

“Does this place have Netflix?” He asks.

“I don’t think so. When I got here, they asked if I wanted to pick out any DVD movies for us to watch, but none of them looked interesting to me so I passed… sorry.”

“It’s ok. I never watched a lot of TV or movies anyway.” He licks his bottom lip. “I saw you put some books out in the living room. We could always read or… talk.”

Garcia grabs a can of Pringles off the kitchen counter and heads toward the living room. He sits down on one end of the couch and Lucy the other. He offers her the can of potato chips.

“I know it’s not much of a meal, but I don’t want you going to bed on an empty stomach.” He explains.

“Thank you.” Lucy smiles and takes the potato chips from him.

“I saw that you had them stock the fridge with some produce and ground meat. How about tomorrow I make dinner? I think with what we have here I can make my mother’s spaghetti.”

“I’m sorry I’m not much of a cook. I grew up with my nose stuck in a book. Always studying so I could get perfect grades on all my history tests. I wish my mother had spent time teaching me how to cook, but uh… grades were everything to her.” Lucy sighs. She’s bitter. “Did you know that once I got an A minus on a European history exam and my mother saw fit to ground me until I re-read my textbook and could pass her European history exam?”

“No. I didn’t know that.” He smiles, happy that she’s sharing with him things that weren’t written in her journal.

“Meanwhile, Amy got a B in… I don’t remember what, and my mom took her to the movies. She was only nine years old, but still.” The smile fades from her face. “Looking back, all I see now is how my mother was grooming me for Rittenhouse. When we first met at the Hindenburg you told me to ask them why they chose me for the mission.”

Garcia nods his head and says nothing as she continues.

“I never… I never asked, and I never figured out why they wanted me on that team. I’m sure it had something to do with my father wanting me to join Rittenhouse.” She shakes her head. “I know that no one had any way of knowing that my mother would be saved, but… she knows it happened and she uses that against me. Thinking that since I love her that I’m more willing to do anything she asks of me because I almost lost her.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Lucy.”

For only a moment, she considers telling him the most recent thing her mother has asked her to do: kill him. She decides against it.

“My mother and father come from pure blood Rittenhouse families. My mother says that almost makes me royalty.” She looks at Garcia for his reaction. She expected him to look at her with disgust. By blood, she’s tied to the very people who murdered his family.

“I’d never hold that against you. I want you to know that.” He tells her, meaning every word he said.

“I’m not Rittenhouse. I don’t want to be Rittenhouse. I hate everything they stand for, everything they want to do. And it’s not like they tell me everything. I still don’t know why they’ve been taking the Mothership on trips. I don’t know what history they’ve already changed. I could wake up one day with some stranger asleep by my side and have no idea that I’m not supposed to be with him.” Lucy shakes her head and quickly wipes a tear from her face. “That happened. I came back and I was engaged to a man I had never met. I don’t know if he was Rittenhouse or not, but my mother seemed to love him.”

“Noah?”

Lucy nods her head.

“You mentioned him a couple times in the journal.”

“Was he-”

“He wasn’t Rittenhouse, but they were looking to bring him into the group.”

“Oh.” Her heart sinks. “I mean… I could wake up one day and be fully indoctrinated into their ideology and not have a clue as to who I am right now.” She wipes another tear from her face. “I’m afraid to sleep.”

“Lucy…”

“And the only thing that I have that could remind me of who I am is that journal. And they have it. Rittenhouse has the journal and they keep it in the Mothership so that it doesn’t change. So that it serves as a record of what history was… who I was. Their manipulation of me is of high importance. I’m afraid of what they want to do to me. Why is it so important for them to know what personal things I wrote?” Her voice cracks as tears fill her eyes. She feels no control of her own life.

Garcia is quiet. He doesn’t know what to say to assure her that everything is going to be ok because quite frankly, he has the same fears. He has doubts about what the future holds and he’s not in any position to do anything about it. He watches Lucy cover her mouth to stifle a cry. He listens to her as she continues to pour her heart out to him.

“Do you know what it’s like not to trust who you are when you wake up in the morning?” She sobs, looking into his eyes.

Garcia opens his mouth to try to find words to say to comfort her, but he has nothing.

“C’mere.” He inches close to her and wraps his arm around her shoulders, using his hand to press her head against his chest. Lucy grasps onto his shirt, holding onto him. The world is closing in around her and she feels like she’s drowning. All she has is Garcia Flynn to hold onto, to keep her head above water. He speaks softly to her, comforting words and assurances that they’ll figure this out together.

“I don’t think I can stop them, Flynn… if I… if I don’t do things that I’m asked to do…”

“I know how they operate, Lucy…” He understands that disobedience could get her killed, he pulls her closer to him and rests his chin on the top of her head.

“I’ve lost everything.” She cries.

“You haven’t lost me.”