Cogs Of Fate

Fragments Of Memories

The next morning, Wyatt slipped out of the room he shared with Lucy while she slept. He walked with purpose as he headed for the kitchen. There were dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He spent most of the night tossing and turning as his mind raced with questions and self-doubt, preventing him from sleeping.

He figured out what had been plaguing his mind pretty quickly. It was a combination of sleep deprivation, the fact he lacked faith and trust in any of their future selves, his distrust of Rowan and Quinn, and now, he was being told he would join the enemy and try to kill the woman he loved, and essentially their future child. That was a lot to shoulder alone.

Wyatt knew he reacted harshly when they informed him about Jessica. He carried the weight of the blame for her death before and frankly, he never got over that. It was an open wound that continued to get licked, despite his best efforts to let it be and heal with time. Even after hearing about how Rittenhouse trained her to be a sleeper, made him feel used and abused by them - by Jessica. To think he had been sleeping with the enemy before they faked her death - and how hard he fought to find her to bring her back - made him look silly.

It pained him to think that whatever occurred in that version of himself's past that drove him to feel betrayed by those he considered friends and family, told him he needed to make the concerted effort to prevent that future from coming to fruition in whatever means necessary. He wasn't sure how to do that but he had a pretty good idea where to start - and it would require french toast.

Wyatt turned into the kitchen and froze in the doorway. Inside, a couple of women were already hard at work preparing breakfast for the rest of the full bunker. Their eyes lifted to see him as he entered, stunned to see he was awake this early.

"Oh, uh....Hi?" he muttered, blinking at them in surprise.

They exchanged glances before turning back to Wyatt. "Can we help you?"

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I was going to make some french toast for...it doesn't..." He was about to bail out on the idea, inching his way out of the room.

"I can make them for you," the one girl chimed in. "Do you want whipped cream and strawberries too?"

Wyatt's lips curled into a smile, knowing Lucy would love it. "That would be perfect."

"I'll bring them out to you," she said with a nod. "If you want to wait out there," she pointed to the coffee canisters on the bar window, "coffee is fresh."

"Thank you," he said, turning to grab a cup. He was feeling grateful for the help in making the food. He usually burnt them. Cooking wasn't his forte; thank God for MREs. He turned to the coffee canisters, filling two cups of coffee and bringing them over to a small table. He sat down to wait, drinking the fresh hot coffee - which apart from Flynn's coffee, was amazing to drink.

As Wyatt sat at the table with his coffee, his blue eyes lifted to see Rowan and Quinn entering with an elderly woman who seemed to be struggling to walk. Wyatt watched as they made their way over to the table. He chuckled softly to himself. He never would have pegged either one of them to be the sort to help an old lady.

He watched as Quinn left them to head to the kitchen, stopping at the bar for coffee and speaking to those inside. Wyatt's eyes darted back to Rowan and the old woman. Rowan helped her across the room, pulling out a seat at another table to allow her to sit. Rowan leaned over to speak softly to her, patting her hand gently just as Quinn returned with the coffee.

Quinn set the mug onto the table before the woman. He lifted his gaze to Rowan, speaking once more before leaving the room, back in the direction they came from rather briskly. Rowan sat down briefly, making sure the woman was going to be okay. Wyatt watched as the woman seemed to be reassuring Rowan before he stood from the table to follow his brother.