So this is a drabble dumping ground fic. Not that these are drabbles, actually. Whoops, I got carried away. Anwho, enjoy!
-Bo
You are an agent. You are strong and capable. You've stared down death with your own two eyes. You've looked at him and you've walked away, pale, sweaty, on the brink and in pain, but you've walked away.
So now you're looking into deep brown eyes that are clouded with pain. Well, you were. The tears that have been building up in your eyes for so long now have spilled, and they're running down your cheeks, blurring your vision and you blink them away angrily.
"No. You are going to stay with me. Stay with me."
You're fairly certain your voice broke but she's somehow managed to smile up at you through her pain.
"Stay with me." You growl once more and she nods before inhaling as deeply as she can and her eyelids begin to flutter.
"Myka." Her rasp brings your attention once more back down to the woman, this woman, lying on the cold stone floor, her life leaving her body in thick red rivulets on the floor. You can feel it all over where your hands are pressed to the gunshot wound in her stomach.
"No. No speaking. Save your strength." You suppose it could have been more authoritative, more demanding had it not been broken by a hiccup. And like the floodgates have been opened you are openly sobbing, kneeling at her side, hands over her stomach and head bowed so your hair surrounds the two of you like a privacy curtain.
You're not sure what you're crying for, really. For what is, was. What could have been? For this wonderful, amazing woman who taught you so much and you taught in return. For this thing that the two of you have. This unspoken thing that keeps you awake some nights, tossing and turning wondering just what could it be.
You look up and meet her gaze. She looks so sad, so upset for you. For you, crying over her, who was shot because she pushed you out of the way. Realistically, it should be you lying there. You're bigger, taller, there's more of you. You could take it. You could take the shot and be fine. You wish you could have taken it.
"Myka. Darling."
And it hurts, to hear her in such pain. She's choking over the words, breath coming in ragged gasps in order to be able to voice her thoughts. And so you shake your head and before the rush of a brilliant idea can leave your veins, you lean even closer and kiss her.
It's short, and rather forceful. It's desperate. It's everything you've never been able to say, everything that has been said with small touches and lingering glances. It's an 'I love you' as well as stay with me and I'm sorry and please don't leave me, not again I can't lose you again.
You pull away too soon, mindful of the fact that what little breath you have, she has even less. So you lean back and and watch as her eyes open slowly and a small, yet brilliant smile inches its way across her lips.
"Stay with me." You breathe and she nods.
.
It's Pete who found you. Pete who was supposed to be at the Warehouse, not here in Washington D.C where you pace the tiled floor of the waiting room. Pete, who's vibe had told him that something was wrong, something was going to go wrong and had to do something about it.
"Mykes." The voice is soft at her ear and there's a hand on your arm, gently pulling you away from your pacing and down onto a hard chair beside him.
You can't sit still. There is still adrenaline pumping through your body, making you wide eyed and jumpy. Even though you're sitting still your leg still jumps up and down and up and down until Pete places a hand on your leg and that stops moving too.
Your eyes go to the hand, then follow his arm up until it joins his body, then onto his face where she can see concern and worry and a little bit of fear too. It causes your stomach to clench in response, you were afraid of naming this coiling in your gut. This thought that she wouldn't come out alive.
"Mykes." He's calling your name once more and you can barely look at him, instead you turn your gaze away and nod and snake your hand down your leg to twine with his. It's grounding, you think to yourself as your fingers settle around each others. Someone else is here too, someone else is feeling this churning in the gut which is made worse by the bright fluorescent lights that shine on the tiled floor and the chemicals that invade your nostrils and make you want to sneeze.
He gives your fingers a squeeze, a reassuring, hey she'll be fine, you'll be fine it has to be and suddenly right now seems like a damn good time to tell him everything.
"I kissed her." You confess quietly, eyes ahead, watching the comings and goings of this hospital. You don't see Pete's reaction. You don't even know if he had one. So you continue on before you lose your nerve.
"She was saying my name and she shouldn't have been talking and she sounded so hurt so I kissed her Pete. I kissed her and told her to stay with me and then,"
"Then I showed up."
You nod and exhale shakily. "Yeah." You continue in a small voice. "If you had been any later." Your voice trails off and it doesn't need saying, what would have happened if Pete had been any later. You both know all too well.
A child runs past, bright pink balloon tied around his wrist that proudly proclaims "I'm a big brother!" in cursive writing. He stops and turns around, waiting for his family to catch up. "Come on!" He cries. "I wanna see her!". They're both watching him now, watching as his small legs carry him around the corner and out of sight.
"You love her."
It's a simple statement that's uttered from Pete's lips. And for all your smarts and genius and knowledge, you know now that you do. You've been afraid to give it a name. Because if you name it that means it's here to stay. Like a stray pet you find in your neighborhood. And you've been afraid of loving someone like that again, because you loved Sam, loved him and he died. He died and left this gaping hole where confidence in yourself had been. What if you loved again? Allowed yourself to love like that again.
"I loved Sam and he died Pete. I love her and I don't want her to go too." You sound young, too young. A child's 'don't leave me'. Suddenly you're catching on words. They halt and crash into one another then finally stumble out of your mouth. "Oh god. What, what if Sam was still alive? What about Helena? I love them both, loved them both. How can I do that? How can I do this?" You can feel sweat breaking out on your forehead and on the palms of your hand. You make to let go, to release Pete's hand and wipe it on your jeans but he tightens his grip, trapping your hand within his larger one.
"Myka." And his voice is firm, commanding and you turn your head to meet his gaze. "I loved Kelly. I think I still do, maybe." Here his voice softens and so to does his gaze. "But she made her choice. She moved on. It's not something that I liked, hell you know I hated it. But I can move on. You can move on."
"We'll both move on." She finishes for him, giving him a small smile.
"Sam dying was terrible and you love him Mykes. But you can move on, otherwise you'll just be in this hole of nothing and it's no fun in there Mykes. It's more fun out here, living and loving and such."
And your heart kind of swells and you're pretty sure your smiling at him dopily but you don't really care. "Wow Pete. When did you get so insightful?" You joke lightly. You're glad he's here. So glad, happy, grateful that he had his vibe, that he came to Helena's rescue, that he's Pete. He's Pete and you wouldn't have him any other way.
"Living in this B&B with dozens of women makes you super sensitive. In a manly way of course." He affirms and you chuckle.
You love her, your body sings. You've named it, this thing that you have and you don't know if Helena loves you too but you love her and that's a start.
You give a small sigh and you can feel the adrenaline leaving your body. You suddenly feel weighted, as though your bones are lead and your skin is steel. The chair no longer feels like it can support you and your traitorous eyelids begin to droop. Pete notices. Of course he notices. But he doesn't say a thing, instead shifting in his seat so his shoulder is looking more and more like an enticing pillow. And when you do finally drop your weary head on his shoulder, he gives your hand another squeeze. You don't want to fall asleep. You want to be awake, stay awake and hear good news and stay awake so you can see Helena wake and tell her all this news but your body has decided other things and black clouds your vision. The hand squeeze says sleep, I'll be here, I'm watching out, I'll watch over you both.
.
"Peter?"
The soft voice rouses you from your thoughts and you look down to see and tired and battered H.G staring up at you from the hospital bed. Her already pale skin is as white as a sheet and the dark rings around her eyes make her look haunted.
"You look like a zombie." You offer before leaning over to grasp at the water jug on the side table a nurse had left for their patient. "Water?" you ask, shaking it gently. She nods and you pour her a glass, set the jug down and help her drink as her shaky hands attempt to clutch the glass.
She sighs once she's finished and gives you a small smile. "Thank-you Peter." She intones, still managing to sound put together lying in a hospital after being asleep for two days.
"Pete." You correct her. "Peter sounds so formal and weird."
"Aright then. Pete." And even though you're here in this room, her eyes are darting around, searching searching. So you stand and pull your cell from your jeans pocket and dial the familiar number and she watched you from the bed, eyes curious.
"Pete? Is something wrong? Is everything okay?"
Your partners voice rings from the phone pressed lightly against your ear and rings in the tiny hospital room and you watch as H.G's eyes light up and her whole demeanor changes at the sound of Myka's voice.
"No, no. Everything's fine." You tell her, smile creeping up your face too. You have the most brilliant idea. "Just wondering when you'd hurry up Mykes. I'm starving."
"Oh Pete don't do that!" And if you were there with her you could imagine her stomping her foot. "You're supposed to call when something happens!" You shift your gaze from the machine beeping in the corner to the Victorians smiling face. You raise a single finger to your lips, covering a smile. She looks at you confusedly. "No nothings happened Mykes. I could need to call you for other things you know. Like for food."
"Pete!" She huffs. "I'm in the elevator now ok. I'll be there in less than three minutes." She finishes before the call is cut off sharply. You're a flurry of movement now, knowing when Myka says three minutes, she truly means three minutes. Phone is slid back into its' pocket and you gather you jacket before racing for the door.
"Oh!" You say as you hang off doorframe. "Stay awake. She's coming. And if you hurt her you will have the Petester to deal with." All of this is said in a breath and you can her the bell that signals the elevator arriving at the floor. Without another word you take off, rounding the corner before Myka can see you.
.
You're carefully balancing a cup of tea in one hand, pastries in the other and you try and put your cellphone back in your pocket as you enter the room. It proves fruitless and your phone clatters to the ground and your wondering why Pete hasn't come forward to claim to the food he was so desperate for.
A chuckle from the bed has you looking up and you're meeting bright brown eyes that are most definitely awake and alert. Nothing else matters right now and you refuse to look away and you don't know you're crying until your breath catches in your throat and choking back sobs.
"Helena." You breathe, barely managing to put your things aside before you find yourself at her bedside, hands tightly gripping the railing of the hospital bed. "You're awake."
Helena doesn't speak, she simply nods and hums softly in agreement. Her eyes haven't left yours and you find your lips twitching, growing into this beaming smile you can see being matched upon Helena's don't realize how close you are to one another, how close you seem to have been pulled, like a gravitational pull that you have no control over.
"Darling, I-" And that's all she seems to be able to get out before she decides that there are better things she could be doing with her lips and she's leaning forward and one of her pale hands is pulling at your collar and she's kissing you, all soft lips and Helena.
You're a little surprised, but it's a good kind of surprised, and as you kiss her in return you think, yes, this is good.
You've broken apart and your hands are still tightly clutching at the railing and you're breathing heavily. Your faces are barely inches apart and she chuckles once more. You can feel your heart beating so loud it's in you ears and you can feel it thrumming in your fingertips and it's life, it's living and your both living and newfound revelations are beating against closed lips and you blurt.
"I love you."
There's a second worth of silence and if possible, Helena's smile grows even bigger and she's leaning forward once more and this time you meet her halfway, and she's smiling around the kiss and you could live a lifetime simply kissing Helena. Reluctantly pulling apart once more you smile a huff a breath of laughter. "You're injured. Don't strain yourself."
"I love you. Too I mean." And her eyes are bright and her cheeks are flushed and she looks so much more alive than she had the past two days. You open your mouth to tell her she looks beautiful, amazing, lively, but your phone rings.
It's still on the floor, buzzing so much it's moving about on the tiled floor and you fix it with a glare, hoping it will pin it down or shut it up. Helena is laughing softly once more and her hand is resting on your arm and you meet her eyes and smile, then turn with a grumble to answer the blasted phone.
"Mykes!" Pete's voice rings out before you can even say a word. "Am I the worlds best friend or what?". He sounds so pleased with himself, you suddenly realize, for giving you time alone and your sour mood vanishes. "Yes Pete. You are." You agree.
"Good. Well have fun. Take it easy." And before you can berate him he's hung up and you're left staring, mouth agape at your cell. The nerve.
You return to Helena's side, this time opting to pull the chair closer until you can lean forward and your elbows are resting upon the bed and chin resting in your palms.
"We should call the nurse." You say, not moving from your spot at all.
"We should." She nods, remaining still except to move her hand to join it with yours, pulling it down so it lays on the bed beside her.
And there are things they need to say, words that should be spoken but right now you're content to hold your hand in hers and just watch her face as her lips mouth "I love you".