Disclaimer: If Warehouse 13 were mine, we'd have at least gotten a kiss between Myka and H.G... (see profile for a REAL disclaimer)
A/N: Written for LiveJournal's Mini_NaNoWriMo Day 1 challenge! Not my best and not beated (so all mistakes are mine), but apparently I needed to get it out of my system..
It had been years since Helena Wells dreamt of death, over a hundred in fact, not since she'd been driven mad by the murderous men who took her daughter from her and then by overwhelming need to try and save her. She spent months tinkering around the warehouse, obsessively building her time machine, dreaming of nothing but revenge and of slicing open throats. Then, only after her numerous attempts to change the past had failed, did she begin wishing death upon herself. She became reckless, desperately wanting to join her little girl in the afterlife, to be happy again, consequences be damned. Artifacts, once forbidden for personal gain, became fair game. She stopped sleeping, resting only when she passed out from sheer exhaustion, waking with images of her last, gasping breath fresh in her mind's eye. Those were the nights that she savored most, the ones where she could practically feel Christina in her arms once again, so close yet so far. It was the one thing that she clung to until her grief finally got her into more trouble than she bargained for, the Regents issuing her an ultimatum- prison or bronzing. She chose the latter.
She hadn't realized how much she missed those dreams after being de-bronzed, feeling a split second of hope after she woke, only to feel reality settle heavily upon her a moment later. No, instead Helena dreamt of Christina being taken from her in different ways- by a society still hellbent on greed and arguing over differences in religion. It was disgusting.
So, once again, more than a century later, Helena found herself spiraling downward. She was lost in a sea of sadness and rage, silently suffering as she forcefully clawed her way back into familiar surroundings- the warehouse, the artifacts, the hierarchy- hoping that it would save her. What she hadn't expected though, was Myka Bering. Somewhere, through her haze or disappointment in the human race, she'd grown fond of the younger woman- more than fond if she were truthful with herself- and in the end, Myka was the one who saved her. She fought her way into a cold, unused heart and brought it back to life, so unexpected that Helena hadn't been able to pull the trigger that day in Yellowstone. She'd finally found that feeling of hope, the one that only her dreams had brought her, and she'd found it in a woman. An incredibly brilliant, loving woman, whom saved her the day that she grabbed her hand and forced a gun to her head.
Maybe one day, in another time and place, another life, they'd be together. Helena could see it as she closed her eyes, a blinding wave of heat flashing over her as the warehouse exploded around her, Christina and Myka waiting for her on the other side, wrapped happily in each other's arms. She found it kind of funny, sad really, that the moment she'd waited over a century for was nothing like she'd dreamed it would ever be.
The last thing she felt was regret, a tear sliding down her cheek. They could have been happy, but only if she'd tried.
End.