This is a rough draft that I stopped working on back in March 2018 after I dropped being a Lyatt fan immediately after the season 2 episode "Hollywoodland" aired. I was going to delete this story from my computer (backup drives), but a while back a few people expressed interest in reading it, so it's up on this site for them (feedback/comments can be DM'd to me on Tumblr or emailed to me at BattlshipGarcy@gmail.com).
It begins as it ends: Wyatt’s heart shatters.
Kissing Lucy was an in-the-moment gesture to keep their cover as “Lucy and Wyatt” intact, to not be made by Bonnie and Clyde. The kiss was not supposed to be anything more, nor anything less.
When he married Jessica, he vowed to always love and protect her, and after her death, he made a promise to himself to never stop loving her, to never betray her, and to do everything in his power to bring her killer to justice. He failed them all except one… he has never, and will never, stop loving Jessica.
Her memory is the only reason he is still alive today.
He feels his hand gently take hold of Lucy’s neck as he pulls her into him for the kiss. He thought this kiss would be nothing, just an act to keep their cover, but in the moment, even Jessica is forgotten. In a flash there is a part of him that is disgusted that he gave no thought to Jessica as he kissed Lucy, and that there is a part of him that wanted to forget her, that wanted to just let Jessica go. His life would be easier without Jessica. He hated himself for those thoughts. Jessica is his everything, or she is supposed to be his everything.
Now he is not so sure.
Lucy’s hand gently holds his cheek in the same manner Jessica had when he proposed to her under the tree. Lucy only slightly pulls away, and already Wyatt knows this is a kiss that he will never forget. Lucy’s hand lingers on his cheek. He sees in her a recognition of the exact same thing he feels. But because he just opened up to her about a moment of his life with Jessica, then kissed Lucy, he also sees confusion.
Lucy is surprised, but not offended, perhaps even touched that he could kiss her after speaking of a very personal, intimate memory of his late wife. But compared to Jessica he fears that Lucy will always come second. Jessica was, no, Jessica is the love of his life. He will never let her go. Sure, he could love Lucy, she is sweet, beautiful, and strong-willed, but she is not and can never compare to his Jessica.
His eyes fall on Lucy’s lips when they part, then rise up to look her in the eyes. It is almost as if he is asking “what was that?” and “did you feel that too?” He parts his lips to say something to her, to apologize, or to talk his way out of acknowledging these feelings to himself, he is not yet ready to admit that perhaps lightning can strike twice (can it? Should it?).
“Hot damn.” Clyde’s interruption reminds Wyatt of where he is, and that they are not alone. “To true love, huh?”
Wyatt raises his glass of hooch to toast with Clyde.
Relieved at Clyde’s interjection, Wyatt nonchalantly lifts his glass to his lips and drinks, keeping his eyes on Clyde the entire time. He sees Lucy, from his peripheral vision, throwing back the rest of her drink, then looking at him nervously while smiling.
Finally, she gets down on a knee there with me, Wyatt replays his story in his head, and all he can see with his mind’s eye is how Lucy looked at him when their lips parted. Puts her hand on my cheek, and just says ‘yes.’ He can still feel Lucy’s hand lingering on his cheek, in the exact same way that Jessica’s did when he proposed to her. and she gives me a kiss that I will never forget.
The same can be said about this kiss with Lucy.
No matter how much he tries to push that kiss from his memory, forcing himself to remember all the kisses he and Jessica shared, he cannot wipe Lucy’s kiss from his memory. And maybe he doesn’t want to, but he should.
It is awkward lying, half-dressed, in bed with Lucy now, listening to Bonnie and Clyde drown themselves in each other. His thoughts are back on Jessica, remembering all the times they were gasping for air in the early morning hours, sneaking out of their homes in high school to meet up just to taste one another again, sitting in movie theatres missing entire movies because they could not keep themselves from locking lips. Those were the good old days. He misses those days. He would do anything to have those days back. If only he knew how he could save her. He sort of has access to a time machine, he should be able to use it to save the one he loves, but he does not even know where to begin, who to go after, who to take out (kill if necessary) in order to save Jessica’s life.
“If there’s only one person for you in the whole world, and you lose them, does that mean that you have to live the rest of your life without anyone else?” Lucy asks him, but he does not answer. “I think you… we… anyone… has to be open to possibilities.”
Lucy moves to look at him, and for half a second the desire to reach out to her, and kiss her again, emerges, but he makes no such move. Could he recreate the magic he had with Jessica with Lucy? It has been so long since he has been with anyone, not since Jessica. Would it be fair to Lucy to even want to get involved with her when always in the back of his mind is revenge on whoever killed his wife, and how faithful he really is to Jessica even after her death? No. It would not be fair to Lucy, and it would be a lie to himself.
A relationship should not be based on such dishonesty.
But is there any way to get to a point where being with Lucy could be honest?
He is uncertain.
Wyatt sits up straight in bed, gasping for air, sweat forming on his brow. He looks around his room, in this dark and abandoned government military bunker, and moves to sit on the edge of his bed. Rufus is not in his bed, it is left untouched, he must be staying with Jiya tonight.
Wyatt runs his hand through his hair and checks the time on his wristwatch. The sun will be coming up soon. He might as well get up and get his day started.
Pumping iron works better than coffee, and the cold water of the communal shower finishes the job. The water here is almost always cold, which he does not mind because in Afghanistan, during the war, it was always warm. The cool water soothes the wounds on his back. The water washes over his face and he sighs.
He has to find Lucy.
He has to get her back.
He refuses to believe that she is dead.
She has to be held prisoner by Rittenhouse. She needs him to come rescue her. She is only a historian, a damn smart one at that, but that does not give her the street cred (nor the tactical ability) to bust her own way out of the claws of Rittenhouse.
She needs him to save her.
She has no one else.
Screw Agent Christopher. Today is the day he is going to go after Rittenhouse. He stares himself down in the bathroom mirror, hating himself for not leaving weeks ago to find Lucy. The anger builds, boiling in his veins, striking his heart with indignation, and he slams his fist into the tile in front of him, breaking his skin on impact.
“Whoa! Sorry!” Jiya’s walked in on him.
“I’ll be done in a second.” He does not mean to sound so angry with her, but it comes out anyway. He does not really give a damn, to be honest.
“Are you all right?”
“Maybe you could knock next time.”
Wyatt cocks his handgun and storms toward the bunker exit.
No more fucking around.
It is time to go find Lucy.