Part 1- Set between Lucy's abduction at the end of 1x10 and the beginning of 1x11 when Flynn returns from his second unsuccessful trip to 1780
"No! Stop! Let go of me!" Lucy was in a full panic as the Mothership came into sight. She pulled desperately at Flynn's bruising grip on her arm; dragging her feet and fighting with all her might, but her resistance had no almost effect on Flynn.
In his rage-fueled determination Flynn did not even seem to notice Lucy's struggles. He practically flung her into the Mothership and when she reflexively stepped back toward the exit he deftly blocked her with his own body. With no way out, she had just enough time to catch the surprised eyes of a handful of Flynn's goons and a semi-concerned Anthony Bruhl before Flynn shoved her violently into a seat, reaching for the seatbelt. Lucy squirmed and shoved at him but he swatted her hands aside without a thought and roughly buckled her in. Flynn took the seat to Lucy's left, buckling himself as the Mothership's door closed, its engine revving up. Lucy was frantic now, desperate not to let the Mothership take off with her in it. She began fumbling with the seatbelt, racing to free herself, but Flynn's hand shot out and snatched her wrist in a tight grip, slamming it down on the armrest and holding it there. Lucy's wide, frightened eyes finally met his. She froze at the burning rage she saw in their depths.
"Not a good idea." The softness of Flynn's voice was a sharp contrast to the warning edge in his words. He turned and nodded swiftly at Anthony without moving his hand from Lucy's, then fixed his gaze back on her as the Mothership began its takeoff. Lucy met his furious eyes with paralyzed shock. It was finally sinking in that this was happening. Flynn had kidnapped her, dragging her from Wyatt and Rufus and 1780 and was taking her to some unknown time and place. She was angry, frightened, and anxious, and a part of her, the very small part that had begun to trust Flynn, felt horribly betrayed. The familiar shaking and jolting of time travel got to be too much and she had to squeeze her eyes closed to fight the panic creeping up on her. Flynn still had not released his bruising grip on her wrist, and despite the obvious threat in the action, Lucy found herself grounded by the feel of his hand on hers. Although her eyes were clenched closed she could feel his gaze burning into her as the Mothership torpedoed through time.
The Mothership came to an abrupt halt as it landed, and Lucy forced her eyes open despite the turning in her stomach. The door opened and she could barely discern what looked like a stained glass window. They had landed in a church, evidently. Her attention was snatched away as Flynn finally released her wrist and practically tore his seatbelt off, jumping up out of his seat. Lucy quickly followed suit as Flynn began barking orders at his men. As soon as she stood, Flynn pivoted back to her and pinned her in place with a steely glare. He grabbed her arm for the third time that night, hauling her out of the Mothership. This time, Lucy did not struggle. At this point she was surrounded by Flynn's men and simply had nowhere to run.
Flynn propelled her into a small folding chair in front of a computer and gestured furiously at it. His voice was a low growl. "Search." Lucy's bewildered eyes flitted to the computer, then back to Flynn. She stared at him, uncomprehending. "Lorena and Iris Flynn. Search. Now." Flynn practically spat the words out.
Lucy's eyes widened in comprehension. She slowly turned back to the computer, her heart racing, dreading what she would find. Flynn's hulking form shadowed over her as he paced just a few feet to her left. Lucy's hands shook slightly as she typed. She pulled up a news article and began to read, her stomach sinking as it confirmed what she had already suspected. After a minute, Flynn grew impatient. He paused in his pacing and moved just over her shoulder.
"Well? What does it say?" His tone was sharp as he hovered over Lucy, his hand resting on the back of her chair and his dark glare burning a hole in the top of her head. Lucy's whole body tensed nervously and she avoided looking up at Flynn, afraid of what she would find. She cleared her throat and began speaking, her voice barely a whisper, filled with resignation and a hint of sympathy.
"Lorena and Iris Flynn were murdered in their home on October 24th, 2014. The killer is believed to be former NSA asset Garcia Flynn, husband and father of the victims, who has since disappeared." Lucy paused; lips pursed, and snuck a glance up at Flynn. She immediately regretted it. His face had morphed into a mask of fury, glaring down at her unrelenting.
"So nothing's changed." Flynn's fists were clenched so hard they began to shake and Lucy stilled, peering cautiously up at him through her dark lashes. When she spoke, her voice was laced with sympathy.
"I'm sorry." She meant it, too. As much as she stood by her decision to spare John Rittenhouse, Lucy knew how desperately Flynn wanted his family back. If she had been that close to saving Amy, only to be thwarted by someone she considered an ally, she would be devastated too. Lucy's pity seemed to be the last straw for Flynn.
"You're sorry?" he growled the words out through clenched teeth. "This is your fault! If it weren't for you, the boy would be dead and my wife and daughter would be here right now!" As he spoke, his words grew progressively louder until he was almost shouting. He was right next to her now and at his furious accusations Lucy's own temper rose and she shot up out of her chair.
"He was innocent! He was only a child!" She stood tall, glaring furiously up at him, their faces only separated by their significant height difference. Flynn's eyes were alight with a new fire as he met her unflinching stare. He leaned his head down until there was barely an inch between them, and met her glare head-on.
"That child is the reason my family is dead. You did that." Lucy shook her head in denial and opened her mouth to argue, but Flynn cut her off. "Enough. This is pointless." He turned away from her and began pacing once more. Lucy watched him warily. "We'll just go back. Farther. Kill the boy before we even got there last time. We know where Rittenhouse lives now. We don't need Benedict Arnold to show us the way." Flynn's words gained confidence as he spoke, his shoulders straightening as he put together a plan. Lucy's heart sunk.
"Flynn." The pleading tone was back as she stepped toward him. "Don't do this. You heard David Rittenhouse. He had other followers. Killing John won't stop Rittenhouse." Flynn pivoted back toward her.
"No." He shook his head in disgust. "You let him get away last time and nothing changed, so now I'm going to go back and fix the mess you created. And you," he thrust a finger in her direction, "you will stay right here and research everything you can possibly find on John Rittenhouse. When I get back, I need to be completely certain that he is gone." Lucy stared hopelessly at Flynn. She did not bother to argue, he was clearly set in his decision. Flynn turned and shouted something in a language she could not understand, and one of his goons came over and stood on the opposite side of her, a holstered gun clearly visible at his hip.
Flynn turned back to Lucy and looked her up and down, eyeing her 1780s outfit. "You should get comfortable. You've got a long night ahead of you." He tilted his head with a hint of a smirk, almost daring her to respond. Lucy looked between Flynn to her left and armed lackey to her right. She knew a losing battle when she saw one. She stepped back to the rickety chair with her lips pursed and her head held high. She held Flynn's stony gaze as she removed her cloak and loosened her bodice until she was able to slip it off. She finally sat, tilting her head at Flynn as if to say, 'Are you happy?' Flynn gave her a cold, satisfied smile and turned back to his companions. Lucy watched him for another minute as he prepared for his mission, before turning back to the computer. Flynn was right about one thing; she was going to have a long night ahead of her.