This chapter is a little bit weird, I'm sorry, but it is set during Buried and Reset so is just a few snapshots of what happens around those episodes. (and yes strongwoman341, this is where the angst starts!) Next chapter will be a bit more normal. Enjoy! Please review :)
"I know a thing or two about the opposite sex. Many of my lovers were men." Myka couldn't help but smirk at her girlfriend's comment. Pete and Claudia both looked utterly shocked, which at least proved that neither of them knew about her and Helena's relationship.
Relationship. It had been a few weeks now. Last night her and Helena had sat around talking for hours. This was definitely not just sex. Myka knew she wasn't ready to say it, but she was in love. Myka Bering was in love with Helena Georgina Wells. She was her 'One'. She grinned again, trying to hide her smile by looking down at the file in front of her, but Helena noticed it out of the corner of her eye. Myka's smile was so beautiful. Myka was so beautiful. Both inside and out. She loved her. Myka was her 'One'.
When Helena emerged from the tent wearing the incredibly tight and revealing outfit, Myka could barely control herself. Her eyes scanned Helena's strong, slim body and her mind raced. Her breathing increased slightly and she bit her lip. She explained to Helena that archaeologists didn't really wear that, but she was far from complaining, she only said it to slightly make fun of her girlfriend, but Helena was not deterred. She sauntered off confidently, leaving Myka with a spectacular rear view.
When Helena was standing in front of the rack of spears in Warehouse 2 she did, for a second, hesitate. Was she really going to do this? She thought of Myka, how her eyes sparkled when she talked, and how that last night when they had all been watching TV Myka had nuzzled her head into Helena's neck and dozed off. But then she remembered the TV news that had come one after the program had finished, there was not a single positive story. It was all death, war, violence, injustice and deception. The same was with the newspaper that she had bought from Univille. There was one story about a politician who had battled cancer and won, but all the rest were horribly depressing. This world was broken. She was convinced that she was doing what needed to be done.
She apologised to Myka before she shot her with the Tesla. It hurt that she knew that Myka would be angry with her, probably hate her. But the world was a terrible place, it needed a rest from humans. It could not carry on the way it was going.
On the journey back from Egypt, Myka was numb. Pete and Artie were sitting next to her, trying to work out what Helena's plan was, but Myka couldn't listen, she couldn't help. All she could do was stare into thin air and try not to think about anything. If she thought about it, she would collapse into a ball of tears. She didn't know what she was feeling. Her brain was full of crackling static like an out of tune radio.
When they arrived back at the Warehouse Myka asked Pete about his vibes about Helena. She was angry that she didn't listen to the rest of the team's doubts. How could she have been so stupid? She fell for the manipulative woman's act. She didn't usually do stuff like that. Myka lead with her head, she didn't normally let her heart take over.
This feeling stayed with her all through France. She pushed it away violently, hiding it in the back of her mind so that she could get on with her job. She had made one catastrophic mistake. She had to resolve it. She had to stop H.G. Wells.
Artie was lying on the cracked ground, blood pouring from his shoulder. Myka looked at Helena, who was wielding the trident, Myka barely recognised her. This was not the woman who she shared a bed with, this was not the woman who she played footsie with underneath the office table, this was not the woman who she could usually connect with with a single glance. This woman was bursting with anger, her eyes were full of fear. Suddenly Myka worked it out, and she spoke as she thought; Helena didn't really want to do this, she needed them to stop her. Not them, her. Myka. Myka had to stop her. She forced Helena to hold the gun to her head, challenging her to shoot her. Myka had to trust that the connection between her and Helena was not completely false.
"No. Stay away from me." shouted Helena, grabbing Myka's arm. They stared into each other's eyes for a second. Helena's were hard, full of anger. Myka's were desperate, sad, determined. Suddenly, Helena realised that she could feel Myka's pulse through her wrist. Her eyes flickered and weakened. Her breath came easily for the first time since she had put together the trident.
Then Helena's finger was sitting on the trigger. It wouldn't take much. Then she could get on and rid the world of the horrors of humanity. That was her plan. That is what she was here to do. But she couldn't. She looked into Myka's eyes and saw that they were filled with pain. Her mind flashed back to all the beautiful memories she had of Myka. The sound of her laugh; the feel of of heart beating when they lay together, naked; the look of her face after they kissed. Helena screamed and threw the gun to the ground, curling up into a ball.