They're on the floor, James lying in his arms, half on Artie's lap, and all Artie can think is how it's just like that time when they found the Aztec spear; it had been the same: James clutched in his arms clinging to life. Now it's not James' blood leaking out from a hole in his side and staining Artie's pants dark red but James' actual blood that's the problem. He's boiling from the inside and Artie can't help but clinically think how horrible it has to be compared to every other injury he knows James has had before.
They're on opposing sides now but this is not what Artie wanted. He thinks about his snide remark of trying to take James into the Warehouse to be bronzed before Mrs. Frederic gave James the necklace but this is not what he wanted. Now James is dying right here in his arms and this is not what Artie wanted at all.
James struggles to speak, saying something about Artie, how he knew he would use it, and Artie just wants to tell him to 'be quiet, you're dying!' But somehow Artie responds through the insanity in his head with such calmness. James is talking about...
"The phoenix?" Artie grips James' shoulders. Why does it always come back to the phoenix with them, life or death? "...you put it in my pocket."
James killed him then saved him in one action and Artie can't decide what it was for James, a gift or a curse?
"I wanted you to see what I saw, the darkness, the emptiness but it's all for nothing," James replies as his face blooms red and black, a spark burning through his skin in such horror movie fashion.
"No, James," Artie gasps. "I saw light and peace, I felt nothing but hope." He wants to say 'you can too, you have it too!' but the last words don't come out.
It can't be nothing for James despite what he's done. Artie just can't imagine the possibility of James turning into nothing.
"Hope?" James gasps, pain faintly underlying the word.
"Yeah," Artie says earnestly as if his one word can make it true for James' past.
"But all this time I thought I knew the truth…" James looks up at him, "I'm sorry, Arthur."
Artie forgets to breathe for one moment because he never thought he'd hear James say those words again, not after all their disagreements, not after Carol, not after James tried to tear the Warehouse down and Artie would do nothing but fight him back with Warehouse principles. Of course, there is much to apologize for but James has always been one to hold the line. Apology isn't ever something James does lightly and he chooses now to do it when he doesn't have to, when he can die feeling right if he wants to.
Artie wants to say he's sorry too. He wants to save James, wants him alive. But then James suddenly gasps low and he's gone.
Artie holds his hands up in the air staring in near disbelief at nothing in between them, just air, only air. He sits down heavily and leans fully against the wall. He glances up once as if looking for confirmation that he's not imagining this event, then back between his hands. There's nothing, no James, nothing.
James is really dead.
Artie breathes in slowly and his eyes shift down to the ash on the floor by his curled legs. He thinks, 'Oh, that's James.' His mind bursts through a myriad of response options, smashing his glasses against the wall being close to the top along with diving into the Escher vault so at least he'll be forced to think of something else. Instead he manages silence.
"Artie…" Myka says quietly after a minute of Artie's staring silence.
He glances at three sets of shoes standing close by. He hadn't exactly forgotten they were there but things can go sideways when you're watching someone die. He does not respond.
"Artie," Pete says more firmly than Myka.
Artie's brain clicks.
"Search the Warehouse," He says without looking up, "see if Wells is still here."
"She's got to be gone, she - " Claudia starts.
"Just do it!" Artie snaps a little. He sees Claudia's legs twitch. "And check the computer to see if she took any artifacts."
None of them move at first. Artie keeps staring at their feet and makes no effort to stand up. His eyes keep drifting back to the ashes on the floor despite his best efforts to look absolutely anywhere else.
"Artie," Myka crouches down slightly and puts a hand on his shoulder, "maybe we should just – "
"There is the Warehouse to worry about," Artie says cutting her off and standing up away from her hand. "That is most important. With the speeds Wells was moving she could be gone or she could have taken something. We have to know."
"Got it," Pete replies.
Artie sees Myka flash him a look but he just shakes his head once back at her. Artie looks at each one of them in turn and motions with his hands.
"Go. Go, now."
Myka sighs, giving him a searching look but she turns and half jogs back into the shelves, Pete following after. Claudia does not move, however.
"Claudia?" Artie stares at her, schooling his face into father figure mode.
"I… um…" she opens her mouth like a codfish then clicks her teeth together again. "I, well… uh, thought you…"
"Check the inventory in the computer for alerts." She has a torn expression on her face so Artie sighs. "Claudia, please."
She clears her throat. "Okay, yeah, on it."
Claudia turns and scampers away leaving Artie alone in front of the Escher vault with the sound of shifting stone. Artie watches the spot where Claudia had been until he's certain he can't hear her footsteps anymore. He turns around.
Artie crouches down beside the ash where he'd been sitting. It's just a small dusting on the floor, not even a pile, more like someone blowing on a burnt down fire. Artie reaches out a hand to touch the floor. His fingers come away with a thin gray coating.
"James..." Artie whispers.
Suddenly, Artie's stomach turns in such a visceral reaction he gags and chokes back vomit because, God damn, this isn't just ash on his fingers, this is a person. This ash is burnt flesh, disintegrated bone, a life boiled away into nothing from the inside out and now its on him. This ash was his enemy, a twisted Warehouse agent, someone who stabbed him in the chest with a sword; this was his friend, his partner, his best friend once. James McPherson is just a layer of ash on his fingers.
Artie staggers upward and away from the layer on the floor until he bangs into the wall beside the vault controls. He shakes his hand and when the ash does not fall away he wipes his hands furiously together until he can't feel it anymore. He suddenly realizes how fast he is breathing and he has to move. Artie turns sharply away and strides into the Warehouse.
Muscle memory leads Artie through the Warehouse until he is climbing the steps back up to the office. Artie opens the door and finds Claudia seated in front of the computer. She looks up as he enters.
"Hey," she says, a note of caution in her voice.
"Anything missing?"
"No sir," Claudia salutes in her normal humorous fashion, "everything accounted for and no flashing lights of danger."
"Pete and Myka?"
"They phoned in," Claudia turns her chair around, "so far zip, but the place is big."
Artie puts a hand over his eyes. "I am aware of that."
"Artie, do you - "
"I'm going to check things outside," Artie says, dropping his hand, before Claudia can ask him anything.
Working his way through the wreckage that killed him not too long ago, Artie gets outside into the blinding light and sand. It's quiet and empty as usual. No recently un-bronzed historic writers are lurking around waiting to be caught. Artie takes a few steps forward, needing something to keep his head in this place, when he sees the vest on the ground.
"Left your toy?" Artie mutters and picks it up.
He sees Wells appear behind James; he sees her cutting the necklace; he sees her face, her thin features, the dark hair, dark eyes; he sees the glint of too many frozen years twisting in her expression; He sees James gasp, can still feel himself surging forward to grab James as he falls.
Artie's fingers flex on the heavy vest and he glares at the surrounding desert as if its to blame for all of this. Then he has a sort of epiphany. He remembers James' words: " I wanted you to see what I saw, the darkness, the emptiness but it's all for nothing." James had wanted Artie to understand, just as he always had through all their Warehouse years. He'd wanted Artie to understand what he was thinking; he'd wanted Artie to know why. He'd said 'it's all for nothing;' his reasoning, his plan was 'all for nothing.' Still, even then, James had been trying to get Artie back on his side, partners again.
Artie's teeth clench tightly together.
(Later he will go back to the Escher vault with a bucket and brush. He'll ignore Myka's request to take care of it, Pete's offer of help, and Claudia's suggestion of the vacuum.
He'll scrub at the ash on the floor until the water is almost black and bristles break off the brush.
"Why, James?" he'll mutter almost incoherently. "Why did you have to be so stupid in the first place? Why... why you idi...Damn it, you were always so smart... 15 years and still so stupid too!"
The floor will still look dirty to him.)
Now, he looks down at the vest wanting to smash it under foot or methodically pull each bit of metal until it bends and snaps off. Breathing in slowly he turns around instead and goes back inside the Warehouse. He has other things to do, other things to worry about now. He has a team that needs him and Artie will not let this consume him.
Wells is the new loose end and James is gone, end of story.