Prompt: Lucy and Wyatt break Flynn out of jail. xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxx
Anonymous said: Fic prompt if you’re up for it: Lucy and friends breaking Flynn out of prison and their angsty reunion
The black site is somewhere in the ass-end of the California desert, miles from anywhere, surrounded in a jungle of barbed wire and KEEP OUT signs, a complex of low military buildings designed to blend into the scrub. You could be a hundred meters away and still have trouble actually seeing it. The GPS went out several miles ago. It is a long dirt road to nowhere, and as they edge the pickup forward, Wyatt driving, Lucy clenching her knuckles white in the passenger seat, and Rufus typing madly on his laptop in the back seat, trying to hack into the local intranet and shut things the fuck down, everyone has one last chance to consider what a terrible idea this is. But they honestly have no other choice.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” Wyatt says under his breath as he rolls down the window and scans the stolen badge. At this rate, they have to be successful, or spend the next several years (or decades) in the next cell over. Lucy hasn’t seemed to breathe much since getting back from her mom’s, telling them what she learned. They thought about going to Denise, about trying to explain to her what an awful mistake she made, but Lucy is too angry for it, and doesn’t trust her to understand. Being used as unwitting bait will do that.
And so, here they are. About to bring things around and steal a time machine in turn, get hold of the Lifeboat and carry it off. Homeland Security isn’t going to help them. Rittenhouse is pissed that they’ve lopped off a few of its middle-ranking limbs, but the head of this hydra is very much alive and kicking. They quite literally have no time to waste, and in the most murderous of all imaginable ironies, there is only one man on the planet who can help them.
And he, of course, now absolutely hates their guts. And is a prisoner in a secret government facility, accused of the most serious terrorism charges the law can think of (they’re lucky he isn’t in damn Gitmo), and they have thirty minutes to break him out. Nobody said this was going to be easy. But this is suicide.
After a nerve-shredding moment, the scanner beeps green and the gate cycles up. Wyatt lets out a breath and drives through, keeping carefully out of range of the security cameras poised like gleaming beetle eyes at every entrance and exit. “You said you were jamming them, right?”
“Working on it.” Rufus’ fingers fly over the keys. “Come on. . . come on, you piece of junk… okay. Oh shit, okay. Override is launching. Takes effect in 3…2… and we are on the clock.”
“Just as usual, right?” Wyatt opens the door and jumps out, as the monitor attached to Rufus’ laptop scrolls down from 00:29:59. “Let’s do this.”
“Yeah,” Rufus mutters. He is not a fan of this plan at all. “Let’s rescue Señor Psychopath. Fun.”