Can't Keep It In
Summary: Pete returns from a mission with more than an artifact. With his lack of sleep making him a little loopy, can he explain to Myka how she is like Albus Dumbledore, the greatest Headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen? Is H.G. destined to play the part of Grindelwald? Set after "3…2…1".
Disclaimer: I do not own Warehouse 13, Harry Potter, or the characters contained within. This is written solely for entertainment purposes. The title is from the Cat Stevens song of the same name.
It seemed the antithesis of how one should act after chasing around an artifact. Or rather, those that were using said artifact.
Usually, the Warehouse agents would use what reserves of adrenaline were left coursing through their systems from the thrill of snag-bag-and-tag-ing to return the artifact to the Warehouse and then themselves to the Bed and Breakfast, wherein they would promptly fall on their beds.
Maybe, if the mission occurred over the course of one day and was relatively straight-forward—but those were as easy to come across as plutonium—the agents on said mission would engage in a short-lived revelry with their fellow agents and the retelling of their success.
After a mission of similar duration and intensity as the one Pete and Claudia had just returned from, however, the agents would usually excuse themselves from present company in varying degrees of politeness and urgency.
As it happened on this day, Agent Pete Lattimer found himself overflowing with energy as though possessed. Under normal circumstances—or as normal as the Warehouse can be considered—that turn of phrase would suggest an artifact had come into play.
These were not normal circumstances, however, and it so happened that Pete was simply acting in such a manner because he had an epiphany during the mission—one which he spent the entire return trip, all seven hours, discussing with Claudia in her various states of sleeping—which he couldn't help but think Myka needed to be made aware of. As soon as possible.
It really should not be held against Pete that he was slightly crazed.
After chasing an artifact for six days and not having slept in over twenty-four hours, it is perfectly reasonable that Pete would be either passed out from physical exhaustion, as Claudia was, or manic from the three Red Bulls he drank to make sure he stayed awake during the drive back.
Myka needed to know. NOW. Even if it was after eleven and she was partaking in her no-one-bother-me-or-else reading time.
Pete crashed head first into the hush that permeated the library of the Bed and Breakfast, a bundle of unstoppable energy. Unfortunately, at this time of day—and in this particular location—Pete was about to collide with an unmovable object.
He immediately broke the silence (or re-broke, as his entrance was less than quiet) anyways:
"Listen, Mykes, I was thinking…" Pete trailed off to a pause and gave Myka time to work through her surprise at the interruption and gather a glare to send his way.
What a homecoming gift, Pete thought sullenly. When I got her such a nice souvenir! It's my thought that counts. In both senses! He laughed to himself. The souvenir and the saying. This epiphany is great. It's like I'm even more clever. One more pat on the back, Lattimer.
"Pete!" Myka shouted. "Stop making yourself laugh and tell me what your brain decided to do for once. If it's so important you had to interrupt me now and all."
"Oh." Pete pulled himself from his mental award ceremony. "Right. I was thinking…it's like we're living a modern-day, non-fictional version of the Global Wizarding War, with the end duel between Dumbledore and Grindelwald."
"What?" Myka made that Pete-is-making-no-sense-he-really-is-an-idiot face, the one that came with the slight shake or twitch of her head.
"C'mon, Mykes. I thought you were the book nerd of the group. Or one of them, I guess." Pete started to ramble. "Which makes it more fitting, I guess. I wonder who I am in this. Obviously some kick-ass Auror. Or would I be the childhood mutual friend who had to choose a side between good and evil, right and wrong. Remember to do what is right, not easy."
As Pete continued to mumble to himself, likely reciting the entirety of Dumbledore's speech by heart, Myka pushed a hand through her hair the best she could. The hour, after all, was quite late and her curls were making their evening appearance.
Myka started speaking slowly and somewhat through her teeth. Or, how she usually ended up talking to Pete: "I get that you are referencing Harry Potter, Pete. What I don't get is how it relates to the Warehouse. Or why you had to tell me right now."
Pete had the gall to look at Myka like she was the one not making sense. Speaking as though Myka had suddenly lost her ability to think clearly, Pete spoke slowly and made sure to enunciate the best he could in his eagerness. "Not the Warehouse, Myka. You and H.G."
Gritting her teeth again and forcing her eyes closed in a grimace, Myka tried again. Patience is how one dealt with trying to understand children, and so with patience she would deal with one Agent Pete Lattimer. "Still not following how this relates to Helena and me, Pete."
Pete smiled too big at this and started waving his hands around sporadically. This was his chance for Myka to see his brilliance. "Well, you're like Dumbledore, right? Good and wise and footnote: gay! H.G., she lost something she loved like Grindelwald lost his friend in Dumbledore. He was kicked out of school because he got too dark. H.G. got bronzed instead. Kinda went crazy after that, right? And then, you stopped her from taking over the world!"
At this point, Myka had enough of Pete's postulation. There were a few things wrong with what he was saying. "Pete, please let it go. I keep telling you that Helena is not one of the bad guys. She got a little lost in her grief, is all."
Pete chose to be the bigger person and not bring up how Myka didn't actually deny his footnote remark, but defended H.G. instead. In fact, Pete chose to ignore what Myka had said entirely as well as the canon regarding the duel.
He had a point to make that was bigger than technicalities.
"Well, maybe, Dumbledore was able to talk down Grindelwald with secret eye talk and body language and just had to remind Grindelwald that there was someone worth living for, worth not destroying. Does this sound familiar at all, Myka? Nod with me, here. C'mon. I know you want to."
Myka moved to protest but Pete cut her off with an aha! gesture, waving his finger around wildly, the wild glint brightening in his eyes.
"Plus! Plus, you have goofy glasses. I know you don't think I remember, but I do Mykes. So don't give me that look." Pete pointed at Myka, daring her to try and object or to look at him like she was for any longer. Satisfied that she would continue listening, Pete started up his monologue again.
"And you have tons of books. You know everything and you kick ass in a duel. With a sword or whatever that fencing thing is called, not a wand, but still. And! People are kind of afraid of you, but not really, they're more like intimidated by your greatness. And H.G. is pretty great too; she just uses it for different purposes sometimes. And what about how Dumbledore and Grindelwald were planning to find the Deathly Hallows together? Hello! That just screams artifact. And you and H.G. work scarily well together. The rest of us, we're like the elite squad of the Order of the Phoenix. Hunting down bad guys and little pieces of their souls, saving the world."
It's weird when Pete starts making a little bit of sense, Myka thought.
Even though she was too old when the books came out to ever think she would be getting her Hogwarts letter—and when put up against the literary greats of centuries past, Harry Potter paled in comparison—there was something enchanting and magnetic about the world J.K. Rowling had created.
Still, Pete's "logic" has some serious faults. Time to set him straight, so to speak.
"Pete," she started, "some of what you said fits, but the characteristics you highlighted could apply to so many people in that universe. I always thought I was more like Hermione or Professor McGonagall. You know, female and brilliant, with a good set of morals. I never really identified with Dumbledore."
Pete rolled his eyes and crossed his arms loosely. Myka was missing the point. "Dumbledore works the best, Mykes, trust me. Claud and I went over it on the way back. I mean, he's footnote-
Myka was quick to interrupt. "I'm not gay, Pete."
Ignoring her disruption, Pete continued, picking up any enthusiasm he had lost with Myka's interlude. "You know, you and H.G. could have a fandom like Dumbledore and Grindelwald. There's a whole world of people who think they were together or should be together because they read the subtexty stuff between them. And the whole world in my metaphor is the Warehouse. I'm just saying, Mykes: if the shoe fits, wear it. With pride," he finished with a slight smirk.
Myka realized getting Pete to drop the comparison was an attempt at futility. Sighing and brushing her hair from her face, she gave an inch, hoping Pete wouldn't take a mile in return.
"Okay, so maybe Dumbledore and I have things in common, but I still don't see the connection between Helena and Grindelwald. She's not a bad person, Pete."
It was simple for Pete: "Well, you like her, don't you?"
Myka tried to hide her surprise that Pete would dare put it to her so bluntly. Hypotheticals. She could work in hypotheticals. There didn't have to be any truths or un-truths talked about here.
"So, if we're going with your story—and I'm not saying you're right, Pete—I am destined to have my affections used against me and forever have them be unrequited?"
Pete knew Myka wasn't giving him enough mental credit. He knew what she was doing. Two can play the game of walk around the bush. But why should he when he has the hammer of bluntness at his disposal?
"Well, maybe not the unrequited part, but H.G. did use you for a while there, Mykes. Even if she's not a bad person, even you have to admit that she at least did that."
Myka nodded, head down, acquiescing Pete's point.
"Okay," Pete continued, "to answer your question about how Grindelwald and H.G. are similar: a brief history lesson. The story goes that as Grindelwald's power grew, people started to think that Dumbledore was the only one that could stop him. Why do you think Artie made sure you were there at Yellowstone? Why do you think Artie had you talk to H.G.? That's another thing you both have in common. You've got silver tongues that can duel just as fiercely as any wand."
Pete sighed, knowing he had to continue now that he has gotten this far. This was the part Myka wasn't going to like. Not that she's been too keen on everything else.
"Grindelwald ended up being detained in a prison of his own making. So the question is, Mykes, do you want to have your best-friend-who-is-not-me and possible time traveling lesbian lover holed away somewhere, even if just in her mind, separated from you for the rest of your lives? Not knowing what could have been? "
"Pete…" Myka whispered, tears reflecting in her eyes. Okay, Lattimer, time for the final blow…
"Myka, Dumbledore never visited Grindelwald to get any sort of closure because public opinion would have completely destroyed him. At this point, Artie's the only one who would grumble about it. You've got the sphere. You can do something about this."
With those last words, Myka grabbed the black sphere—sitting next to her this whole time, Pete noted—and nestled it to her chest. Then, sparing Pete once last glance, walked out of the library leaving Pete with a smile on his face and a craving for a pumpkin pasty (or seven).
