Chapter two
The atmosphere of the B&B was fraught with tension. In Claudia's obvious absence, Artie was manning her laptop. It only took him a few minutes of browsing to realize that the young woman had gone against his very clear orders and connected her personal laptop to the Warehouse mainframe.
He begrudingly admitted that her insubordination was proving to be extremely useful, but he would have to give her a stern talking to when she got back. The thought froze his actions. There was a real chance that she would not make it back. He could not bring himself to continue down that train of thought.
Claudia meant more to him than he liked to admit. He had never really wanted children; he had always been content to simply care for the Warehouse. Somehow, however, the brilliant and difficult young woman ha wormed her way deep within his heart. They would not fail to protect her, Artie would make sure of that.
Pete and Steve paced around the den, bouncing ideas off one another. Pete absently munched on a cookie, while Steve's hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly. They were both big brothers adrift, feeling helpless. Abigail carried a mug past them over to the couch, her brow furrowing in concern.
"Your tea, Mrs. Frederick," she placed the cup on the end table and unclipped the cordless phone from pants, "and here's the phone."
"Thank you, Ms. Chow," Irene replied taking the phone, "Though if I do recall, I asked you to disappear." There was a hint of a smirk on her face.
"Are you sure, ma'am?" Abigail lifted an eyebrow, "You've been through a lot of trauma today, I think you might be mistaken." She turned on her heel and walked back toward the kitchen. Mrs. Frederick bit back a smile and began to dial.
/
Helena jolted when her phone rang, quickly pulling her hand away from its place at Myka's forehead and sliding it into her pocket to silence the phone. The sleeping woman stirred as H.G. checked the screen and stood up. Damnit. She shuffled into the doorway and answered the call, "Hello?"
"Ms. Wells," Mrs. Frederick's usually honey-smooth voice was strained, "is Agent Bering awake?" At that, Helena pursed her lips.
"No, but she may very well be now thanks to your phone call," came Helena's terse response. When Mrs. Frederick didn't immediately respond, H.G. almost apologized- two apologies in one day? It would've been a record.
"Of course," Irene finally said, "I wasn't thinking. Please call me as soon as you know anything."
"Hey, is that Myka? How is she?" Helena could hear Pete's voice in the background as it got closer.
"I will," H.G. told her evenly, "and please let Peter know I am looking after her."
"Thank you, Helena," and with that the call ended. Helena took a shaky breath and spun back around into the room. Wide green eyes were looking at her with disbelief.
"Myka," she breathed out, clutching her phone to her chest, "you're awake." Though she desperately wanted to, Helena couldn't step forward. "I- I should get a nurse," she said without moving.
"Helena?" Myka's voice was raspy. "Is this-" she shook her head gently and tried to clear her throat, "are you really here?" With that, H.G. surged forward and grabbed a hideously pink plastic cup on the tray next to the bed. She sat back in her chair and positioned the straw to Myka's lips. Myka sipped slowly, her eyes never once leaving Helena's face. H.G. tried to ignore the stare and concentrated on her task, pulling the cup away after a few moments. She placed the cup back on the tray and reached out to stroke Myka's cheek.
"Yes," she whispered, "I'm really here." Finally, Myka closed her eyes.
"I don't-" Myka started, her breath catching, "I can't-" she tried again, swallowing.
"Shh, darling," Helena kept brushing back dark curly hair with left hand while her right grasped onto Myka's, "rest now. I'm not going anywhere." Myka choked back a thick sob and squeezed Helena's hand. After a few quiet moments, she surrendered to hazy pain and gentle caresses.
/
"So, you are saying that," Paracelsus began, energy crackling from his fingertips, "Because of one upsetting conversation, you've decided to betray your entire team? Decided you would be willing and able to kill anyone in your way? Oh yes, I'd say that sounds quite likely." With a flick of his wrist, Claudia's body jerked and flew several aisles away.
"Frak," she muttered, grabbing her shoulder where it had slammed into the ground, "that's going to leave a mark."
"You don't understand," she called out after a moment.
No response. Double frak. She could feel her bravado slipping away. Maybe this hadn't been her smartest plan ever.
"What Artie did to me," she tried again, "it wasn't just upsetting. I found out that he's the reason my entire life has been a nightmare. And now I'd like to repay the favor."
"Prove it," Paracelsus' voice boomed out from somewhere in the Warehouse.
Claudia smiled. Well, that's a start.