Of Fawkes Masks and Families
Disclaimer: I wish, but no, I don't own the characters/show.
Author's Note: I adore family dynamics in TV shows, so Artie and Claudia's relationship immediately endeared me to Warehouse 13. Fluffy as heck, but maybe that's needed until Season 4 airs? Would probably fit in the canon around amid Season 1 or 2. Enjoy!
He didn't remember waking up, instead just suddenly having a vague sense of awareness. His senses start to stagger back after that, the sharp smell of antiseptic makes his nose twitch, and the near bone-crushing grip of a hand that could only belong to one Claudia Donovan waking him further to his situation. Those two things together could mean one thing…
Managing to slowly open one eye, his deduction stands, he's in a hospital. Lovely, he hates hospitals. Nothing but bad memories when it comes to hospitals. But no pain, as of yet, which meant that he was still in the grip of some serious painkiller or another. Which also meant when combined with Claudia's grip, and her disheveled head resting fast asleep on the edge of his bed, chair as close as possible, that whatever had happened had been bad. Really bad. They wouldn't have brought him here otherwise.
And then it hits him, the original Guy Fawkes mask, the explosion, Claudia…
And now he can feel it, a slight twinge, but telling nonetheless. At least three cracked ribs and what was definitely a broken leg, not to mention the numerous cuts, burns, and bruises he was sure he was sporting. Just a few more for the collection then.
But just as drugged oblivion was starting to look good again as more and more pain receptors started to stir, his hand must have moved while still trapped in Claudia's as he tried to get comfortable, because suddenly she was wide awake and gaping. Pity too, because she looked like she needed as much sleep as he wanted.
"Artie!"
He was sure if he'd been in better shape she would have tackled him in a suffocating hug right then and there, but instead she simply held on to his hand with both of hers, her grip still too tight.
"Artie, I am so sorry. Really. I had no idea that the mask would react that way and I definitely learned my lesson and I hate myself for getting you hurt and did I mention I'm really sorry?-"
"Claudia, Claudia… Claudia, breathe!"
His voice finally reaches her through her, as she put it "word vomit," and a couple deep breaths later he knew he finally had her attention.
"I'm okay, Claudia, really. The mask only acted the way it did because we were already arguing over something as I recall. You picked it up during said argument and that channeled its power. Granted you should know better than to pick up random artifacts by now, but I know that you did it just to get my goat, and I think you more than succeeded."
"Artie-"
"Ah, ah, let me finish. You might remember that I know a little about you, and I know that you'd never intentionally hurt any of us. I can also say from my own limited experience that parents and children argue from time to time, it's part of being a family. Except the majority of families don't have misbehaving artifacts to escalate their fights even more."
She smiles despite the tears he can see welling up in her eyes, and he thanks whomever's listening that his own social ineptitude hasn't left him in his usual tongue-tied awkwardness this time around. Maybe he was even finally getting better at this whole "father-figure" thing.
His hand squeezes hers this time, and she responds in kind.
"I accept your apology, but don't be so hard on yourself, okay, kiddo?"
The tears finally give way; he's amazed she's lasted as long as she's had, and witnessing that dam break puts every protective, nurturing instinct in him on high alert.
Before he can think about it he's slowly edging away from the side of the bed, leaving just enough room for his purposes. She's watching him with a mix of disbelief and longing, and a simple pat from his now freed hand is all it takes to make her move.
It's a good thing she's so small, he thinks, watching as she carefully settles herself against him, his arm despite his discomfort open to wrap around her.
Discomfort is easily pushed away, however, as her slight weight curls against him, her head on his blanketed shoulder, listening no doubt for his heart's rhythm, assuring herself that he was indeed alive and for the most part well.
He never asked for a daughter, never planned on ever having kids to be honest, but this woman-child had wriggled her way into his life nonetheless, and nurses and doctors be damned if they came in to check on him and demand she leave. She might not be his by blood, but she was his by bond, and that bond no explosive argument could ever break.
"Thank you, Artie," he hears her sleepy whisper as she starts to drift off, and he definitely plans on copying her, but not before he tightens his grip just a little more.
"You're welcome, kiddo."
Myka and Pete find them that way upon their return with donuts and coffee in hand, and Pete can't help the soft "Awww!" that escapes his lips.
"I think they settled their disagreement," Myka smiled.
"It's like those cute pictures with big dogs and kitties sleeping together."
"And you would know because?"
"Well, I-"
The look on Myka's face says it all.
"Oh shut up!"
"I didn't say anything!"
"Yeah, but you were thinking it!"
"I was not!"
"Yes, you were!"
"Oh shut up!"
"No, you shut up!"
"How about you both shut up? Claudia needs her sleep!" The whispered hiss from the hospital bed immediately ends the squabble.
"Sure, sorry, Artie. We'll just be out in the waiting room if you need anything. Leena wanted us to call with updates anyway. Right, Pete?" Myka grimaced, elbowing her partner hard.
"Ow! I mean, yep! Sorry, Artie."
He keeps his signature scowl on for good measure until they scurry out the door like chastised children, apparently he'd become a father of an entire brood without realizing it, before feeling Claudia start to stir.
That wouldn't do.
The lullaby is old, from his childhood and before that, passed on by parents through the years to calm fitful children.
His piano playing far exceeds his vocal abilities, but the song works its magic, Claudia burrowing next to him even more and fast asleep.
Laying his own tired head back on his pillow, he thinks that as far as bad days go, this one ended rather well.