Christmastime with her parents was going to be a trial. Myka regretted spending the holidays with them as soon as she put her bag on the floor. It had been a long journey and she was really tired. But Warren Bering didn't give a damn about that. He didn't give a damn about much, truth be told, except what he wanted.
"Pick that damn bag up and put it in your room, Myka. What the hell do you think this is, a hotel?" His face was red and the vein at his temple was pumping already. Myka would normally have shied away and hid in her room, but since she'd been away from his influence, she had gained a little confidence. And she was tired of it.
"Well hello to you too, Dad. I had a nice flight, thanks for asking. I missed you all so much." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. But she regretted the words almost as soon as they were out of her mouth. His fist met her lower lip before the last syllable faded from the air, and the world went black.
She woke up a few hours later, still on the floor by the front door. Her small bag had been ripped to pieces, and her belongings were strewn all over the hallway. The few books that she had brought home with her had been shredded. Her head was pounding and there was blood in her mouth. She hoped he hadn't broken any of her teeth this time. It might affect her voice. She picked herself up slowly and quietly began to collect the destroyed remains of her belongings. She noticed that the presents she had brought home for the family hadn't been damaged. She sighed and crept upstairs to her bedroom, deposited her belongings and went to the bathroom to check out the damage to her face.
The next morning was Christmas Day. She played along with the happy family routine, everyone studiously ignoring the by now spectacular bruises on Myka's face. Her younger sister, Tracy, was more pleasant than Myka remembered, asking her gently about school and how things were going. Myka answered in short sentences, lisping a little round her busted lip. She could feel herself withdrawing into her old self, and despised herself for it. Later, when she and her mother were washing the dishes, Jeannie whispered to her, "I'm sorry I couldn't clean up your face last night, your father wouldn't let me. He said it would teach you a lesson about consequences. But I don't know what you were thinking, Myka. You know better than to provoke your father like that."
Something in her snapped, quietly, and in that moment Myka decided she was never coming back here. Since starting at Juilliard, she had had a taste of what normal people were like, what it was like to be treated like a human being, and she wouldn't come back to this. Perfect sister, violent father and enabling mother who never stood up for her? It was enough.
"Thanks, mom." She said it quietly, gently, as she washed the last plate.
"For what, honey?" Jeannie said, confused.
"For making this an easy decision for me." Myka went upstairs and packed her few clothes and belongings into a new bag, went into Tracy's room and kissed her on the cheek, and said goodbye. Tracy would be fine. Her father doted on her and would never raise a hand to her. Tracy looked at Myka in puzzlement. Myka didn't turn back as she heard her mother's voice ask where she was going. She let the door close behind her and so began her new life in earnest.
She reached New York nearly 36 hours later. She'd made her way laboriously across the country by train and bus, and she was exhausted and smelled bad. And her face looked like she'd been hit by, rather than been travelling on, a bus. It was naturally in this state that she encountered an immaculate Helena Wells in the hallway outside her room. She was trying to get her key in the door with hands that were shaking with fatigue, peering at it through her one good eye, and heard the perfect voice say, "Merry Christmas, Myka," from behind her. Like the last time she'd been surprised by the woman, she jumped and this time threw her keys, phone and the coffee she'd just bought from the cart outside into the air. She couldn't have been more ridiculous if she tried.
She caught her breath, staring at her feet and watching the coffee pool around her ruined phone. She didn't know what to say, so just said, "Merry Christmas, Helena."
Hands touched her shoulders, turning her around. Helena gasped as she saw her swollen, bruised face. Myka's right eye was nearly swollen shut at this point. She had been hoping to get to her room without being seen. The girls who shared her suite were all away for the holidays, so she'd hoped for peace and quiet to clean herself up and ice her swollen face. So naturally she would walk into the one person she didn't want to see. She sighed.
"What on earth happened to you?" asked Helena, appalled.
"I...I had an accident." Myka didn't look her in the eye.
"And your accident was presumably wearing some sort of class ring, since there appears to be a symbol etched into your cheek." Helena's tone was a little scathing.
Myka looked at her, and the pity in the girl's eyes made her stomach clench. Myka's eyes filled with tears involuntarily.
"I'm sorry, Helena. I don't really want to talk about this. It was nice to see you." She turned and kneeled to pick up her keys and dripping phone and the empty coffee cup. As she stood, a hand reached over and took the keys from her.
"I don't know what has happened to you, but I will not allow you to be alone right now, Myka Bering. I will put your things in your room if you wish. But for now, you are coming with me." Helena's voice was determined, and Myka didn't have it in her to fight any more. Her rebellion against her father and her subsequent epic journey had taken all the fight out of her. She nodded, numbly, and followed Helena to the far end of the corridor. Helena opened the door to her suite and guided Myka into a bedroom in the corner with a double bed. Hands gently pushed her down to sit on the edge of the bed, and took her phone and empty coffee cup from her unresisting fingers. She sat there for an indeterminate amount of time while Helena moved around her, her mind blank as she allowed Helena to take charge of her. A mug of hot coffee was pressed into her hands and she drank, slowly, and swallowed the pain pills that Helena gave her without asking what they were. After she'd finished her coffee, Helena sat on the bed next to her and pressed an ice pack to Myka's swollen face. After a moment, without thinking, she put her head on Helena's shoulder and sighed. Helena looked at her carefully, and then pulled Myka gently down so that she was lying on the bed with her head on Helena's shoulder, and Helena's arm underneath her. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Helena pulling a soft fleecy blanket over them both. She thought she felt the ghost of a kiss on her swollen eye before she let herself sleep, and relaxed for the first time she could remember.
Bright light assaulted her eyes and made her head throb even harder. She didn't know where she was. The bedroom was unfamiliar, with paintings on the wall that she didn't recognise, but found oddly compelling. Myka looked around the room and saw a leather jacket on the back of the door, and suddenly remembered what Helena had done for her. She tried to sit up, but groaned as her head spun. Apparently getting the crap kicked out of you and then taking a 2 day epic bus and train journey didn't help with a concussion. She lay back down slowly into the soft pillows and tried hard not to barf. That would just be the icing on the cake after Helena seeing her like this.
The door to the room opened softly and Helena popped her head round.
"Ah, you're awake. I thought I heard something."
Myka was confused, but she was well-mannered enough that she knew she had to thank this girl for her kindness.
"Hi, Helena. Thank you so much for helping me yesterday. I'm so sorry for taking up your time." She tried to get up again, hurriedly, but once again the room started spinning and she had to lie down again before she threw up all over this ridiculously beautiful woman's room.
"Myka, lie back down, for God's sake," said Helena, exasperated. "You've clearly had a head injury and you need to look after yourself. I have called a doctor friend of mine and he's coming round shortly to check on you. You are not leaving here until you're ok."
"You don't have to do that, Helena, really," Myka protested. "I don't need a doctor, I've had much worse than this in the past. I'll just head back to my room and I'll be fine." Then she thought, "Shit, I shouldn't have said that. She's supposed to think it was an accident."
Helena sat next to her on the bed, a fierce expression on her face.
"I don't bloody care if you heal like Captain America, Myka, you're still obviously suffering from a concussion and I can't in good conscience allow you to stay on your own. So you can argue with me and probably pass out trying to get back to your room, or you can stay here, be looked after, and go back to your dorm when you're better. From the look of you, I would say you'll probably vomit if you move, so in the interests of keeping my bed vomit-free, I suggest you remain still and do what you're told. Alright?" Helena frowned at her so fiercely that Myka couldn't help but giggle. Her accent was so adorable, when she said the word "vomit" she actually made it sound cute. Myka wondered what was in the pills that Helena had given her. She felt like she might be a little high. Helena smiled down at her, eyebrow raised.
"Now you're laughing at me? That's all the thanks I get, eh?" She reached over and smoothed Myka's hair back behind her ear, smiling fondly. Myka's breath stopped for a minute as Helena's warm hands touched her skin. She stared at the other girl, mouth agape.
"Why are you doing this?" she blurted, surprising herself almost as much as Helena.
"What do you mean? Why am I looking after you?" Helena quirked her eyebrow quizzically.
"Yes, that's what I mean. You didn't have to. I just threw all my stuff on the floor like an idiot and you should have laughed at me, but you helped me instead. Why? I'm not worth it." Myka was really, genuinely puzzled. No-one had ever given a damn about her bruises and broken bones in the past. Her getting knocked around by her dad was practically a Colorado Springs tradition.
"Well, firstly because you squealed like a little girl and threw all of your belongings on the floor because you apparently didn't hear me approaching, and I found that truly, wonderfully sweet. And secondly, because someone clearly hurt you very badly when you went home to Colorado and I have a problem with that. And thirdly, Myka Bering," and at this she took Myka's chin in her hand and turned her head so that she had no choice but to meet her eyes, "you most certainly are worthy of being looked after. And I would be fascinated to know why on earth you would believe otherwise." Her tone was stern, and her eyes dark but somehow burning brighter than they had at the Christmas service a few days before. Myka didn't know what to say, and she couldn't look away. The silence between them grew thicker, and Myka swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
A loud knock at the other door broke the silence. Helena took her hand away from Myka's face gently, and got up to greet the doctor.
"Dr McPherson. Thank you for coming," she said in melodious tones.
The man she showed into the bedroom was clad in a tweed suit, carrying a doctor's leather bag and smelling faintly of cigars. He was thin and greying, and naturally was as English as Helena herself.
"Hello, Ms Bering," he said, sitting on a chair near the bed. "I believe you've had a bit of a mishap."
"Yes, I'm afraid I have," she said quietly, not meeting his eyes. Thankfully he didn't ask any more questions, but checked her pulse and blood pressure and shone a light in her eyes and all the usual stuff that doctors do.
"Well, it looks like you probably had a concussion originally, and since then I understand that you have been travelling on buses and the like?" Myka nodded.
"Not the best idea, in the circumstances, but I think it's just a mixture of exhaustion and the after effects of the head injury. Nothing to worry about, I shouldn't think, but you will need to stay with someone for a few days until your headache has gone entirely. If it doesn't, I want you to call me and we'll do some more tests to make sure there's no fracture. But I'm fairly confident there's nothing to worry about." He stood up and turned to Helena. "Now, I know you are well aware of how to look after someone in this condition, my dear, so I will leave her in your capable hands. But if anything changes, you must call me immediately." He shook hands with them both and bustled out as quickly as he'd arrived, leaving Helena with a prescription for painkillers.
"So, Myka," Helena said, "I hope you will take Dr McPherson's word that you need to stay with me for a few days. I don't want you to end up being hospitalised, ok? So if you can bear my company, I will keep an eye on you until your head heals a little. And I don't want any arguments." Her voice was so fierce that Myka shrank back into the pillows a little.
"O...Okay," she stammered. Helena smiled at her and swept out of the room.
The next few days were a revelation for Myka. She had never before in her life been treated this way, as if she was someone who mattered. Helena was so solicitous that Myka couldn't understand how she'd ever feared this girl. Helena fed her soups and other soft foods so as not to hurt her damaged mouth, helped her to the bathroom, kept her supplied with hot drinks and ice packs, and fed her pain pills every time she saw the frown on Myka's face that indicated the headache was returning. They talked about their favourite musicals, the roles they wanted to play, watched movies and crappy TV shows together, and when it was getting late Helena read to Myka to help her get sleepy, and then she crawled into the bed beside her and stroked her hair when she thought Myka was sleeping. Myka didn't know what to make of it all, so she spent most of her time just watching Helena as she moved around the room, fussing over Myka, or while she read to Myka from one of her really old books. ("Why did English people all have old stuff? Did they all have castles and moats too?" Myka idly thought to herself. She may have been slightly high, once again, from the pain pills.)
On the third day, they'd just eaten some lunch and were watching a rerun of "Diagnosis Murder", and Myka suddenly asked a question that had been on her mind.
"Why did Dr McPherson say you knew how to look after someone with these injuries?"
Helena turned to look at her.
"How about a trade, Myka? You tell me how you got those injuries – the truth, this time – and then I'll tell you what you want to know?" Her eyes were serious and a little angry. Myka swallowed, eyes wide, and shook her head, slowly, before dropping her eyes to her lap guiltily.
"I thought you might say that. Perhaps one day you'll trust me enough to talk to me about whatever it is." Helena squeezed her hand briefly before turning back to Dick Van Dyke's adventures in crime solving. That night when Myka was pretending to sleep, though, Helena stroked her hair and kissed her temple gently, whispering, "Who did this to you, sweetheart?" softly, sadly, before turning over to go to sleep. A feeling Myka couldn't name welled up in her, and tears stained her pillow until she finally went to sleep.
The next day her headache was almost gone, and she protested when Helena said she needed to stay until it was gone.
"You've already wasted enough of your time on me, Helena. I can look after myself now, thank you. I appreciate it, but you don't have to..." She was silenced by a finger on her lips.
"I am quite sure you can look after yourself, Myka Bering. But, I choose to make sure that you are ok before letting you go back to your own room. I've seen what can happen when people are injured like this, and I don't want that happening to someone I...care about. So please, indulge me for one more day." Myka began to protest, but Helena repeated, "Please..." with the most adorable pout on her face that Myka just couldn't argue.
"Okay, you win, but I don't know how I'm going to make this up to you," Myka said, shaking her head.
Helena flashed her a sly grin. "I'm sure you'll think of something, Ms Bering." And with that, she was gone, off to make some sort of miraculous breakfast as she had the previous few days. Myka stared as the door closed behind Helena, wondering, "Was she just flirting with me?" She dismissed the thought as soon as it arrived. There was no way someone that beautiful would ever flirt with her.
They had breakfast together in companionable silence, but Myka couldn't help but watch Helena while she ate, wondering why the hell this woman had spent her Christmas holidays looking after someone she barely knew, let alone someone like Myka. Helena caught her looking eventually, and smiled at her softly.
"You do look so much better today, Myka. You have some colour in your cheeks finally."
("Only because you just caught me staring at you like a village idiot," Myka thought, but didn't say.)
"Perhaps you'd like to go for a walk, to get some air?" Helena asked.
"Um...sure, that sounds like fun," Myka said. Helena helped her to the bathroom and she washed up, got dressed in some of her workout clothes, and made her way out into the main area of the suite, where Helena was waiting.
"Wonderful. Shall we?" She offered her arm to Myka courteously. Myka took it, hesitantly, but truth be told she was a little shaky after getting showered and dressed. They made their way outside together and found a bench near a small patch of grass. Myka sat down, sighing from sudden tiredness.
"Are you okay, Myka?" Helena asked, concerned.
"Yeah, just a little tired I guess. Haven't been off my feet for this long in a while, you know?" She shot a sidelong glance at Helena who was peering at her with slightly narrowed eyes. She flushed, embarrassed by her lack of stamina.
"Perfectly understandable," said Helena. "And here I am making you walk around like you haven't been stuck in bed for 3 days! I am sorry, Myka." She looked upset, suddenly.
"No, no, it's fine," said Myka, hurriedly. "I wanted to go outside. It's not your fault, really. I should have realised." They smiled at one another, shyly, and the moment passed.
Myka woke up an indeterminate amount of time later with her head on Helena's shoulder.
"Oh God," she groaned, "I'm so sorry. I bet I drooled on you and everything..." She looked up and Helena's face was suddenly too close, her breath on Myka's mouth.
"It's ok, you needed to rest." Helena said gently. Her eyes were dark, huge in the afternoon light. Myka suddenly couldn't breathe. Or talk. Or think.
Myka blushed and moved away slowly, dragging her eyes away from Helena's.
"Maybe we should go back inside? It's pretty cold." Helena nodded, not looking away.
Myka stood up shakily, and Helena took her arm once again to support her on the walk back to their room. No, not their room, Helena's room, she reminded herself. This whole thing was really confusing. First she had walked out of her home in Colorado for good, and as if that wasn't a big enough change, this wonderful woman was treating her like she was something precious. Something of her confusion must have shown in her face, because Helena's eyebrows drew together in a frown.
"Come on, let's get you back inside, you look really tired." They made their way back to the room slowly. Myka's head was beginning to ache, whether from the exertion or from the confusing spiral of her thoughts, she didn't know. She fell into bed as soon as they reached Helena's room, and was asleep before she could get a word out. Helena sat on the chair beside the bed, watching her closely until she was fully asleep, before taking out a book and reading. Myka woke long enough to have a little soup in a mug, but was asleep again before she could finish it. Helena caught the mug before the soup could splash onto the covers.
That night Myka was too deeply asleep to notice anything that went on around her. But had she been able to, she would have heard soft sobs from behind her, as Helena pressed her face into Myka's back. She woke the next morning to find herself being held closely, Helena pressed to her back with her arms tightly around Myka's waist. Her breath was hot on Myka's neck. Myka stayed as still as she could, not knowing whether she was enjoying the contact, or terrified by it. Her body betrayed her by shivering at Helena's next breath. She heard the soft breathing behind her change as Helena woke up, realising where she was and who she was pressed against.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Myka. I'm half smothering you! I'm really sorry - I suppose I must have been cold in my sleep." She moved away from Myka, and it was her turn to flush in embarrassment.
"It's ok," Myka murmured, turning her body over to face Helena. "You kept me warm. I can hardly complain about that." She smiled at Helena, trying to alleviate her embarrassment a little. "And you've been so kind to me, I definitely won't complain about a little friendly smothering." She grinned at Helena and squeezed her hand for a second.
She got up quickly after that, and had a quick shower. She felt much more human, and the swelling on her face was almost gone. The bruises would take weeks to fade completely, but there was nothing she could do about that other than using a little makeup to cover the worst of it. When she got out of the shower, Helena was of course reading, her legs pulled up underneath her on the little chair in her room. She looked up as Myka entered the bedroom, giving her a gentle smile.
"So, I guess it's time for me to be on my way!" Myka said brightly. "My headache is gone and so is the swelling."
Helena just smiled.
"I...I am so grateful to you for looking after me, Helena. No-one has ever cared for me like that before." Helena looked at her, searching her eyes.
"Really? Never?"
Myka shook her head, biting her lip a little in confusion.
"Then they are idiots, Ms Bering. You are definitely worthy of being cared for." Helena's voice was soft and her eyes were dark and unreadable. Something clutched at Myka's heart at the intensity in Helena's eyes. She stepped forward and took Helena's hand in hers for a second, and squeezed.
"Thank you," she said simply.
"You know, it is still a few days until everyone returns from their holidays. You could...perhaps we could have meals together or coffee, stave off the loneliness a bit?" Helena was flushed and hiding her eyes from Myka.
Myka didn't know how to react to this. But it was clear that Helena was lonely and Myka knew what it felt like to be lonely. She knelt on the floor next to Helena, still holding her hand.
"We can spend all our time together if you like, Helena. I enjoy your company and believe me when I say that I don't have anything better to do." It felt odd to be reassuring the other woman, who was usually so self-assured and unreachable.
Helena looked down at her and smiled.
"Thank you. I would like that."
And so it was that, while Myka's things moved to her own room down the hall, Myka herself remained in Helena's room until the rest of the student body returned. Like the last few days, Helena insisted on looking after Myka, making sure she ate and slept enough, and in turn, Myka talked to Helena, to take the edge off her loneliness. They talked about everything, their childhoods, their hopes, their dreams. One afternoon she even told Helena, in very general terms, about her father and his abusive behaviour, and how it had made her into a person that no-one would touch, as if the drama and damage was contagious. Helena read to Myka every night, refusing to read Jules Verne, who she described as 'a hack', but instead concentrating on Dickens and HG Wells. When Myka accused her playfully of being a fan just because the writer was her namesake, Helena pouted.
"He is also my great-great grandfather, I'll have you know. There might even be a few more 'greats' in there. I've always read his books, it's tradition in our family."
Myka was stunned. "Really? You're related to the HG Wells! That's awesome!" She danced around the room in excitement, and a noise escaped her that could only be described as a "squee". Helena laughed loudly at her antics, her head thrown back. It was the most free Myka had ever seen her. Her heart constricted in her chest as she suddenly realised "I'm in love with her."
Luckily she had a lot of practice at hiding her feelings while living under the iron fist of Warren Bering, so she wiped the stunned look off her face and got back on the bed, gesturing imperiously for Helena to continue reading. She closed her eyes and hoped that her face wouldn't show any of the confusion racing through her mind. It was later that night when she awoke to the now familiar feeling of Helena stroking her hair that she wondered if she was the only one who had fallen in love that week.
Their time together came to a rather noisy end as students began to arrive back in the campus housing. Doors slammed and loud voices echoed around the corridors as Myka woke up, with Helena pressed close against her once again. It hadn't seemed worth traipsing down the corridor to her room the night before, so she had stayed here. Again. Helena didn't seem to mind. Myka still didn't know what to make of it. But she was honest enough with herself to realise that she loved waking up like this, with Helena's soft body against hers, warm breath in her ear, and arms tightly around her waist. It was so warm, so welcoming, so right that it almost made her cry. She very carefully stayed still to savour the feeling for as long as she could, because she didn't know if she would ever stay here again, now that Helena's roommates (and her own) were back. It was a while later when she felt Helena stir, and she froze as she distinctly felt lips against her ear. She still didn't move, terrified and exhilarated. The lips moved down to her jaw, and then her neck. She took a sharp breath, frozen in complete and utter confusion. Helena suddenly moved back, and Myka turned over to find her companion staring at her in horror, hand over her mouth and face blazing with embarrassment.
"Myka, you must think I'm some sort of weirdo." Her eyes filled with tears.
"No, I don't think anything of the kind, Helena! Don't be silly! But...what...what were you doing?"
Helena hid her face in her hands.
"I was having a dream, and I suppose I must have thought I was still asleep. I'm so sorry, Myka. God..."
Myka laughed a little, softly, and lifted Helena's chin with one hand so she could look at her and see that Myka wasn't bothered by what had happened. (She was, but she didn't want to embarrass Helena.)
"Must have been some dream, huh?" She waggled her eyebrows at Helena, who huffed out a laugh of surprise.
"Anyway, it was nice. No-one has ever touched me like that before. So don't apologise, ok?" She looked at Helena, eyes wide as she tried to persuade her.
"Okay. I won't apologise. But I can't believe that someone as beautiful as you has never been kissed like that before. Was everyone in Colorado Springs an idiot?"
Myka flushed. "You are such a flirt, Helena Wells! I could almost believe you!"
Helena raised an eyebrow at her and said, "You should believe me, my dear, because it is true. You are a beautiful creature, and the fact that you don't know that just makes you more so." Myka thought her head might explode as she looked into Helena's eyes. The woman really meant it. Or she seemed to. Myka bit her lip again in confusion.
"And, just for that, Myka Bering..." she heard, before full lips touched her own for the first time in her short life. The kiss was soft and tasted a little bit like strawberries from the remains of Helena's lip gloss. And as quickly as it had begun, it was over, and Helena was chuckling as she left the room, towel in hand, to take a shower. Myka lay there for what felt like hours, eyes wide and one finger touching her lips.
A door slamming in the corridor brought her back to herself and she suddenly decided it was time to get out of there before she did something she couldn't take back. She gathered her books and the other items that were strewn around Helena's room, and made a hasty exit without being seen. She did leave a note, however, on top of "The Invisible Man" on Helena's desk. It was a post-it note and it simply said, "Thank you. For everything."
Later that afternoon Myka was lying on her bed, arms behind her head, her mind awhirl with confusing thoughts, when a knock came at the door. She opened it and smiled broadly when she saw Helena. The girl looked confused, and her hands were behind her back.
"Hi, Helena."
"Hello, Myka." She looked up at Myka from under lowered lashes, uncertain. "You left, and I thought you might be upset with me."
Myka said, "No, Helena. Not upset. I just thought it was time I got out of your hair before all your roommates came back and started asking why you had a poor abused woman in your room all over Christmas and New Year. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
Helena smiled in relief.
"I brought you something," she said, shyly.
Myka's brows knit in confusion. "You brought me something? Why? I should be getting you gifts for all you've done for me this last week!"
Helena brought a wrapped package from behind her back. Myka wordlessly invited her to sit on the bed, and she sat down and unwrapped the package slowly. It was a brand new smartphone, top of the range. Much more expensive than the one Myka had destroyed when Helena had surprised her.
"It's probably selfish of me but I wanted you to have a phone, so maybe we could talk sometimes. I really enjoy talking to you." Helena was examining her fingernails carefully as she spoke.
Myka held the box towards Helena, shaking her head.
"I can't accept this, Helena. I can't afford anything like this. My phone cost less than that damn cup of coffee I spilt on it!"
Helena stood up suddenly and made her way to the door. She opened it and looked back at Myka, flashing a quick smile. She said, "You can owe me," before disappearing from the room like a ghost. Myka sat in the chair, open mouthed. She switched the phone on, and noticed that there was already a number programmed in. Helena's. She grinned, shaking her head.