Something to Remember Me By
A/N: Okay, so this being my first published fanfic and all, I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed. Good or bad, don't worry, I can take it!
Spoilers: Not really, just a small bit from near the end of season three.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"May I keep my love of literature?"
Sure, she was probably going to her death. Even if it wasn't physically.
Sure, she wouldn't be the same. As if she'd ever be the same anyhow.
She might never see the American woman again, but she needed… something.
H.G. Wells, as it so happened, was human. And she needed another person.
And now, she had to go through her life… the days at Warehouse 12… the days before …
It was all just slipping away…
Helena knew of Myka's love for the written word. As if she could ever forget.
In fact, most of their late-night / (very, extremely) early-morning conversations had consisted of their mutual love for the subject.
And she had long since committed every fact about or having to do with Myka Bering to memory anyway. But that was the one thing she wouldn't allow to be taken from her. Even if the end result wasn't really her at all.
But if she could never see Myka again, at least she'd be leaving some part of herself in the world. The rest would live in memory. And this weird bit of displaced consciousness. But she didn't want to go yet… If she could just hang on a little while longer…
And then it was gone. Myka, Warehouse 12, H. G. Wells. At least, it was in the real world. But in this… limbo… everything was there. Well, almost everything…
"Who are you?" Emily Lake had no clue where in the world she was, or how she got there. Or who this man in front of her was…
"You've had a terrible accident…"
Okay I know it was really short and all, but hey. I've got to start somewhere…