It's Vanessa that gives her the news. They're in the B&B's kitchen, making tea. Pete is half-asleep on the couch in the living room. Artie is watching for pings at the Warehouse; Claudia and Steve are doing inventory. It's been a slow week.
"It's the orchid,"Vanessa says, "the sweating sickness, it caused this."
"Vanessa, please," Myka replies quietly, "just tell me."
"Myka, it's cancer. The Chinese orchid brought it out."
Myka lets out a sharp breath. She takes a few shallow breaths after that.
"I can start treatment, but it's nothing like I've ever seen,"Vanessa's trails off and her eyes focus on something behind Myka.
Pete is standing in the doorway, his mouth slightly open. "Treatment for what?" he asks, sounding so much like a little boy.
"Pete, it's nothing," Myka takes a shaky breath and tries for a smile.
"Mykes," is all he says. He's looking at her with sad eyes.
"Pete, just gimme a minute and I'll tell you," Myka replies. "Please, Pete."
Pete nods and leaves.
Vanessa puts a hand on Myka's shoulder. "I can move you into our facility for Regents. It's underground, in New York."
"Can we do it here?" Myka asks. "Is there any way for me to receive treatment here?"
Vanessa thinks about it for a moment. "Yes, I suppose. I can make arrangements. I'll need to make some adjustments to your room, but your treatments can be done here."
Myka nods. "Thank you."
Vanessa pats Myka's shoulder and leaves.
Myka explains what she knows to Pete. He looks like he's going to cry throughout the whole thing. Myka does cry. Pete just holds her, and that's how Claudia, Artie, and Steve find them when they come home.
Myka tells them too. Artie retreats to his room. Claudia cries. A lot. Steve stays quiet and gives Myka a long hug.
They sit down and watch some Firefly reruns. Claudia keeps sniffing and falls asleep with her head on Myka's lap, her hips on Pete's, and her legs on Steve's. Steve carries her to bed.
Pete falls asleep about halfway through Our Mrs. Reynolds, despite the fact that "Christina Hendricks is really hot, Mykes!"
Myka slowly slips out from under him, putting his head on a pillow and his feet on the couch, and goes outside with her cell phone. She dials a familiar number and hopes she picks up.
Click. "Darling?"
Myka sighs. "Hi, Helena."
I hate myself, I really do. There have been theories that Myka's sick, and then this happened. /flings self off a cliff/
I should also be studying for exams. Or sleeping. Which is more important, d'ya think? Writing fic, studying for exams, or sleeping?
-Lou
