Sweat
Part 1

Author's Note: Hello everyone, I hope you've been well! I just wanted to give you a little info before diving into my next semi-large fanfiction project. I'm not going to give anything about the story away because I want you to enjoy the story. But I will say that this is still a work in progress, that doesn't have nearly as much planning put into it that the Before The Fall series did. What does that mean for you, the reader? Unfortunately, updates won't be as regular as you or I may like them. But I will try my hardest to not keep you waiting for long. This is a story that I do thoroughly enjoy, and I hope that you enjoy it as much as I do. I'll stop talking and let you get to reading. Please, let me know what you thought. Comments, concerns, what you liked, what needed improving. I appreciate every bit of insight that I can get!

(Start)

She remembered the sweat. It had a pungent, almost tangible odor. It could fill a room quickly, thicken the air around you and nearly choke you for breath. But it didn't smell like your average sweat, of body odor, exertion and musk. It was very much a different breed; lightly musky, but vile, almost putrid, bring one to think of rot. It smelt of sickness.

She remembered wiping the sweat from her brow with a cool wet cloth, and the gentle smile she would receive from granting just the smallest amount of comfort. But no matter how often she dabbed, the sweat would return in less than a minute. Frustrated, worried, determined, she would dip the cloth in a bowl of cold water and wipe again.

She remembered the pale green eyes that would look up at her, some days stronger, some days weaker. They would always beseech her, tell her that she didn't have to this, that she didn't have to be there. The kindness in those eyes would reverberate through her body. She could feel it spread from her shoulders down into the tips of her fingers, spreading from her chest in all directions, reaching from her hips an spilling down her legs. It would was over her, humble her. And she would gently reply to those beautiful eyes that it was physically impossible for her to be or even desire to be anywhere else. And both their eyes would smile.

Then H.G Wells would wake, and the world would grow darker from the lack of those eyes.

Curled up into one corner of the large queen-sized bed, Helena found that she was not ready to be awake. But then, she hardly ever was these days. More often then not, dreams were a much more desirable place to be. But she was awake now and there were things to be done; there was always an endless list of things to be done. So Helena slowly uncurled her body and stretched, shrugging off the thick comforter as she did.

She found herself alone in the bed and the spacious brick apartments. The room was chilled and the floor was half as cold as ice to her bare feet. She quickly dressed and brushed her teeth in the washroom off to the side, making a mental list of the places she might find her partner. After grabbing a few things from around the room (papers and notes and notebooks, pencils, pens, a set of keys and a cell phone, a calculator and a ruler) and placing them in her satchel, she made her way for the door. When she opened it, Trailer came trotting from one corner of the room to follow her.

Outside the room she was greeted with a wrought iron landing and a set of matching stairs that led down to the narrow walkway that circled the Warehouse office. The duo quickly passed through the empty office and into the umbilicus. As the Englishwoman suspected, she found Claudia Donovan outside. Sitting on the ground, the young red-head had her back against the Warehouse and her jacket laid across her lap. The girl was staring out across the vast desert expanse – long miles of red sand, dried craggy flat-lands and hills of nothing but rock and clay – her eyes intense and distant, her forehead scrunched in laborious thought.

Having spotted the girl, Trailer quickly trotted off in her direction with tail wagging to lick her face. Helena more slowly crossed the few yards between the girl and the door to stand next to Claudia and look out across the South Dakota badlands.

It was late November and the cold was sharp and imposing. A strong with had yet to die down and set Helena's tailcoat to flapping. Almost immediately after stepping outside, the inventor was longing for the warmer recesses of the deep and endless Warehouse. But she would not be greedy. Helena knew that the brisk cold air felt wonderful on Claudia's burning skin. Oft times the girl would come outside first thing in the morning, trying to find some relief from the flames burning wildly within her own body. So, wrapping her coat about her more tightly, Helena leaned against the Warehouse, tucked her hands beneath her armpits and remained in silence for a few minutes longer.

While she waited the Englishwoman closed her eyes and tried to recapture her dream. Bitter a memory as it was, it was much sweeter than the reality she was facing now. Unfortunately her mind was too active with the things that needed to be done that day.

"how long have you been out here?" the Englishwoman asked after five minutes, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. Claudia cleared her voice, pulling out a few coughs as she did before answering.

"Thirty minutes." She coughed again and Helena noted that the cough was not as wet a cough as it was yesterday, which she was glad for. "Maybe less."

"Well I think it's best if we get you inside them," Helena concluded as she moved from her perch to stand in front of Claudia. The young girl did not protest as Helena helped her to her feet and dusted off her dark jacket. Her legs were shaky and her palms were sweaty. She leaned heavily on the older agent as she was lead to the front door of the Warehouse.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Helena asked after Claudia overcame a short coughing fit.

"Fine," the young red-head answered. "A little sweat, though," she added with a chuckle. Helena mocked a laugh as well. She didn't find it particularly funny, but was glad the girl was in brighter spirits than she had been in past days. "But definitely better than yesterday. Couldn't hardly get out of bed yesterday."

"I remember. Part of the problem is that you haven't been eating. How do you expect your body to keep strong if you don't give it the energy it needs?" Helena chastised.

"I guess this is the part where you try to get me to eat something," Claudia mused as the two stepped inside the umbilicus. Helena waited for Trailer to trot in after them to close the door. Helena was glad to be out of the cold but could already see tiny beads of sweat forming on the teenager's forehead.

"Yes, it is," Helena said as she offered her arm to Claudia. The girl waved it away, confident that she could manage on her own, and followed Helena into Warehouse 13, "A bit of breakfast will do you good, darling."

"I guess I could eat," Claudia concluded. "Nothing too heavy though. I don't think my stomach could handle it."

"Some cereal then. How does that sound?" Helena asked as they came to the end of the umbilicus and she opened the door to the office.

"Sounds tasty!" Claudia chimed as she followed into the office and closed the door behind them. "You make the best cereal in the whole state, H.G, and that's a fact!"

"Well," Helena replied, unable to resist smiling at her partner's cheer, "Nobody can pour milk quite like I can." The two laughed and Trailer wagged his tail as all three passed through the office. And for a moment, just a little while, Helena could let the laughter distract her from the empty Warehouse. She could let it distract her from how their footsteps echoed throughout the room and returned such a hollow sound. It distracted her from how the walls always felt cold no matter how high the heating was turned up. Most of all, she let it distract her from how still the Warehouse had become.

That Helena hated most of all: the stillness. The Warehouse – be it 12 or 13 – had always had a feeling of life to it. From the very moment she stepped within its endless bowels, she had a sense that the place was teaming with energy. She could feel it prickling at her skin and in the beating of her heart. The Warehouse was alive! Was …

Mechanically there was nothing wrong with it. She and Claudia regularly saw to that. But the tingling was gone; the spark of life had faded. Walking through the aisles had always felt like strolling through a magnificent museum. Now it felt more akin to a moratorium. Strangely appropriate after Mrs. Fredrick …

No! She pushed the memory out of her head. So much for a brief distraction. She instead set her mind to putting some food in both she and Claudia's bellies. There was a small kitchenette off to the left side of the spacious apartments above the office. It was there that the two sat down to a bowl of cereal each. Claudia preferred a brand called Captain Crunch that Helena could not at all stomach. She often – as she did now – went for more flaky brands of cereal such as Special K. Trailer had dog food with bits of leftover ravioli mixed in. There the two women went over their plans for the day. For the most part their plans were the same as yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, and the day before that. There was only one slight variation that Helena was hesitant to mention. Unpleasant as it was it still had to be said, and had to be done.

"We're running low on supplies," Helena began. "A great deal of them." Claudia's eyes were the definition of woe as she looked up from her half-finished breakfast. Sweat glistened off her neck, dampening her fiery bright hair and making it stick to her face. "We need to go into town today." When Helena finally gave voice to their need for travel today, Claudia's shoulders fell. With a groan she pushed away her bowl of cereal.

"Oh man! I hate going into town!" Claudia exclaimed as she wiped at her moist forehead with the back of her hand.

"As do I," Helena agreed. Claudia coughed twice, then a third and fourth time. She gripped her chest in pain on the last one, visibly wincing. As another cough overcame the young woman, Helena could not stand the sight of Claudia's pain any longer. She rose from the table and went to Claudia's side, producing a handkerchief from her pocket as she went. The sick girl gladly went into the older woman's arms as Helena gently wiped away the sweat from her brown ad around her face.

"Are you sure …," Claudia began, trying to speak around her coughs. "Are you sure we can't do it tomorrow? Or … or you know … never again?"

"Would that we could," Helena answered wistfully as she gave Claudia a squeeze. "Well, if you don't mind eating dried dog food, then certainly. I for one, however, have no intentions of sharing with Trailer." Claudia did not respond, but pressed her face into Helena's stomach and grumbled. Helena took the liberty of wiping at the back of Claudia's neck with her kerchief. She did not fail to notice that the backside of Claudia's shirt was well saturated in sweat.

"You could stay here if you want. I'll make the trip as quick as possible," Helena said gently. Claudia did not take a moment to consider it.

"No, no way!" she stated before a cough interrupted her. "I won't make you go alone." And Helena did not put up a fight.

Truthfully, she was glad. She was fearful of letting Claudia out of her sight for too long, less something happened and Helena was nowhere near to help. And she was glad that she would not be going into Univille alone. Already her mind was recapturing the memory of their last visit into Univille, and the gruesome scene that greeted them.

(To Be Continued...)