It will get better. How she hated those words, empty shells of emotion that had been tread so thin they held no more meaning in their skeletal frame. Semantic satiation at its finest- if you were an optimist.
Helena had lost her optimism many years ago. Back when she realized that it would certainly not get better, that optimism was a hollow front people fed into in order to give themselves something to hope for. Hope was a fleeting emotion indeed.
Staring out the window she thought of the life she'd once had. The times when she had been carefree and inspired- creative and invigorated- hopeful and brilliantly naïve. She thought of the daughter she had lost. Her little girl's life slipping between her fingers time and time again. It was too much.
She turned from the window, making her way across the room. It wasn't enough. Her thoughts would not give her the reprieve she sought. She had tried to fix things, mend what had been broken. When that hadn't worked, she'd tried to give herself the punishment nature refused.
Now, she was here, lost in this time and place, unsure of her purpose. She had hurt Myka, dreadfully so. It was quite possibly an attempt to continue the punishment she felt she deserved. Pain was something she still understood. In it's own way it was the only thing pushing her forwards. The pain kept reminding her she was still alive.
"Damn," she whispered, running fingers absently through her hair. It had been so easy to follow the moments- follow the plan- destroy that which had let her down so often throughout the ages. The world was a cruel place and she could not tolerate being unable to change it.
Her life had always been about overcoming adversary, even when she hadn't realized it. Now was a time for survival. It hadn't been hard letting go of her plans. Hearing Myka's pleading words were enough. She was still haunted by the look in the younger woman's eyes as she handed over her trust, loaded gun in hand.
"Helena," Myka called, as she reached for the doorknob. She'd hoped to escape unnoticed, but she was used to fate showing her anything but mercy.
"Yes Myka?" she asked, weariness in her voice. She wasn't used to being back at Leena's and she wasn't ready to face talking to Myka. She turned slowly, eyes glued to the floor.
Myka sighed heavily. "Helena," she said, emotion coating her voice. She stepped closer to the older woman and was surprised when Helena took a step back. "Hey," Myka tried again. She watched HG take a deep breath and waited for her eyes to open before she took another step towards her.
Helena felt herself tremble, but she didn't move this time. "I know you have questions- deserve answers," she said, hesitating over her words. It was the first time in as long as she could remember that she wasn't quite confident of her own actions.
The younger woman watched Helena as she spoke and what she saw turned her stomach. Reaching for Helena's hand, Myka spoke. "That's not what I'm after." Myka ducked down to look into Helena's eyes and tried to reach the other woman. "I didn't want you to think that you couldn't come to me if you need anything."
Helena looked up at Myka in confusion. She hadn't known what to say to Myka a moment ago, but now the thoughts swarmed amid her mind faster than she could process them into words. It didn't matter though, Myka's finger quickly made it's way to Helena's lips to stop her from speaking.
"You're right, HG- Helena, we do need to talk, but not tonight. I don't understand everything, but I understand enough and I think it's too soon for either of us to open those wounds." She let go of Helena's hand and held onto her shoulder instead. "If you need someone to talk to or if you don't want to be alone, I'm just across the hall."
"I don't deserve this Myka," Helena pleaded, not all together comfortable with the generosity. She had never been one to accept help without a fight. Now, after all she'd done, the idea of accepting help from someone, especially Myka, was unbearable.
Myka squared her shoulders, standing up a bit straighter. "I'm only going to say this once. If you need me I'm here, no strings attached." Her eyes softened, as she smiled sadly. "I can't help but wonder if maybe I'd made that clear when you first came to us, things might have turned out different."
HG started to speak, but Myka shook her head no. This was not something she was going to let the other woman brush away. "You told me once that we had a lot in common. You were right. I know how hard it is to accept help, let alone ask for it. You don't have to be alone."
"Thank you Myka," HG said, her voice coated with emotion. Her lips stayed parted, trying to form the words she had needed to for so long. HG let her eyes close and she took a breath. "Maybe being alone right now isn't the best of ideas," she offered feebly. It wasn't quite asking for help, but it was close.
Myka smiled brightly and wrapped an arm around her shoulder squeezing the older woman close. "Why don't we go to my room for a bit? We don't have to talk. I can turn some music on or we can read or just sit, it doesn't matter."
"That would be nice," HG said, attempting to smile. Things weren't perfect and there was still a lot that needed healing, but she felt the beginnings of hope begin to stir inside.