A/N: I have no idea where this came from, but I went with it. Please, please review! =]
Myka hovered in the doorway, watching as Pete stared at the eighty-eighty black and white keys before him. He sat on the bench stiffly while at the same time slouched over, gazing absently ahead of him.
She liked to watch him like this, when there was nothing going on in their chaotic world, just her enjoying his company. Or not enjoying it, depending on how much he wished to annoy her that day.
She was leaning against the doorframe when Pete turned slowly to look at her. "What are you up to?" he asked.
She took this as an invitation and peeled herself from the doorframe. She walked towards him a bit hesitantly and stopped several feet away from him.
"I don't know what to do with myself," she told him. "I keep walking around waiting for something to do but… nothing."
"I know exactly what you mean," he confessed. He looked down at the piano and reached out a finger to press one of the white keys. "It feels like there should be something to do. I want there to be something to do." He let go of the key and looked up at her. "Doesn't feel right when we don't get the artifact…"
"But it gets us?" Myka finished.
"Come sit." He scooted over on the bench and patted its left side in invitation. He was surprised to note no hesitation, not a millisecond of thought before she moved to sit next to him.
Silence. Never-ending silence.
She seemed to deflate as she sat beside him, her breaths long and deep. The size of the bench required them to be to some degree pressed against each other, and he could feel the heat of her arm on his, could feel the smoothness of her skin brush his as she moved slightly.
Hours. Days. Weeks. The only sound the ticking of the passing of time that only she can hear.
"Your hair looks nice," he commented, gazing at her more than fondly.
Myka gave a small, amused smile. "Thank you. Claudia wouldn't be dissuaded."
Pete smiled at that too. "Did she do that to you? I wondered where you girls had run off to."
"Yeah. I think it was part of some female bonding."
"I didn't really think either of you were the 'let's do our nails and play with each other's hair' type," Pete teased gently.
"We're not, but desperate times, desperate measures," she paraphrased and her tone took a dry tone. Pete kept looking at her long after she'd looked away from him.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
He reached out to smooth her newly-straightened hair over her shoulder and out of her face. She didn't freak out or hit him like he had thought she might, merely looked at him with what he thought was a slight sheen of tears in her eyes.
"Play me something," she requested softly.
"Like what?" he asked, momentarily surprised.
"Something pretty," she said.
'You are my sunshine my only sunshine… you make me happy… when skies are grey…' Singing to fill the silence, to fill an empty world.
Pete went through his mental catalogue and finally settled on something he could play. He reached out and settled his hands over the keys and began to play something he'd learned when he was much younger and which he still counted as one of the prettiest songs he'd heard.
Myka watched as Pete's initially hesitant fingers started to glide more and more confidently over the keys. She closed her eyes and let herself be soothed by the feeling of the music washing over her, Pete beside her.
When Pete stopped several minutes later, it took her longer than it should have to realize that he was no longer playing. She kept her eyes shut, but could nevertheless feel his eyes on her.
Alone. Alone in the dark and the silence.
"Myka?" he questioned, and in his tone she detected a hint of worry.
"Give me a second," she whispered. She felt him shift and then there was his hand on her leg, a comforting presence. She took her hands out of her lap and placed both of hers on his, holding on to him like a lifeline.
She sniffled, trying to hold back tears she desperately did not want him to see yet wanted to share. He turned his hand around, clasping her right hand in his left.
Nothingness. Forever.
After a few moments she regained some semblance of composure. "How long was it? For you?" she asked.
He let out a long breath and thought for a moment. "A couple of days." He'd already been down this line of thought. He remembered what Artie had said to them before they left about the passing of time being different. "You?"
"Longer," she frowned. "Months."
"A few minutes with the artifact for a few days of delusions," Myka thought aloud. "Can I-? What did you dream about?"
This time Pete looked away. "Chaos. Just… the world was in total chaos and we were supposed to fight it." He didn't say anything else, and Myka didn't ask. "What did the artifact make you experience?"
"Just a room and… silence. Darkness. Nothing."
"For months? All alone?" Pete frowned.
Myka took her hand back and used it to play with the keys. His eyes followed her as she played random notes. C. B flat. A.
He watched helplessly as tears rushed to fill her eyes. "I'm going to try to get some sleep," she decided, hitting several keys in a cacophonous crash. She rather abruptly got up from the bench and turned away, but not before he caught her hand.
"Come find me if you want another concert," he smiled weakly. She nodded and turned to leave. Upon reaching the door, she turned around to see him once more facing the piano.
The soft sound of the notes drifted over her, filling the silence that clouded her mind.