Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the plot.
Myka shook her head in confusion. "What do you mean she'll die, Artie? How can superficial cuts kill a person?"
Artie sat down by Claudia and gently touched her face. He brushed his fingertips reverently on her scabs and sighed. "It's already started." He gestured for Pete and Myka to come nearer. "If you look here," he said, pointing to a cut covered in a rough grayish crust, "and here," he said, pointing to another one, "you will see that these aren't really scabs at all."
"What are they, Artie?" Pete asked, his brow wrinkling in concern as he leaned over for a closer look.
"It's tree bark," Leena said, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. "The same kind that covers the Asherah tree." She looked over at Artie, tears beginning to form in her eyes. "How long until we have to plant her?"
Artie gently caressed Claudia's face, lightly stroking her smooth skin and softly touching the tree bark. He took a moment to compose himself. I have to fix this. I don't have time to cry. "About a week."
In the room, a mist formed behind them. "You always were an easy mark, Arthur."
The four of them whirled around, not quite believing their ears. Artie stepped out in front of the group. "How could you do this to her?" His voice cracking with emotion, he held out his arms in supplication. "Why?"
MacPhearson grinned. "You know, I asked you the same question when it was Carol's life in question." His face twisted into a cruel sneer. "It's different when it's your loved one's life on the line, isn't it?"
"This is nothing like that!" Artie shouted, his anger boiling over. "Carol was the victim of an accident. Claudia was deliberately attacked."
"Carol, and now Claudia." MacPhearson held his out hands as if to hold a name in each one. "Hmm, you seem to have a thing for C-names," he observed, putting his fingers to his chin in a questioning gesture before pointing his index finger at Artie. "That must be why Myka never made the cut." Pete winced when he saw the wounded look on her face.
"What?" asked Artie, confused beyond measure. "What does Myka have to do with this?"
"You may not realize it, but I am doing you a favor." MacPhearson stepped closer, fixing the older agent with a piercing look. "Something was done for you, Arthur, something painful and brave, and if you had gone to the tree with this debt hanging over your head, no amount of suffering would have dropped you an apple."
Artie stepped forward, refusing to be intimidated by a wisp. "What does any of that have to do with Claudia?"
MacPhearson shrugged. "Nothing." He glanced over Artie's shoulder at the bed. "And everything." The misty figure glided towards the bed. When the other three went to block his way, MacPhearson simply moved through them, becoming more solid once he stood by Claudia's sleeping form. He reached a hand into ther head and squeezed, drawing a guttural scream from the unconscious young woman. Before the others could react, MacPhearson released his hand and withdrew it from Claudia's head. Her body convulsed, and one by one the pieces of tree bark began to fall away.
What was left behind was just as bad. Terrible scars, rough and reddish-black, marred Claudia's skin wherever the bark had touched her. Even though she was unconscious she whimpered with pain, the tree bark taking pieces of her flesh with it as it fell. Before their eyes, Claudia's appearance went from beautiful to grotesque.
Artie looked up at MacPhearson with pure hate. "What kind of monster are you, James, that you would do such a thing?"
MacPhearson slowly turned his head towards Artie. "This is a test for both you and Claudia. Your choice to bond with her has changed many things, and it must be ascertained how deep your connection lies. Basically we need to know if you love her or just love fucking her," he laughed cruelly.
Artie refused to be drawn into MacPhearson's bait, but something the man said caught Artie's attention. "James, you said 'we' need to know. Who else is with you?"
The image smiled as it began to fade. "That's for me to know and you to find out." The last thing they all heard from him was, "Settle your debt before you approach the tree."
Artie, Pete, and Myka were downstairs in the kitchen. Leena had elected to stay upstairs with the still-sleeping Claudia.
Silence passed between the three of them as they ate an early breakfast. Pete was busy being concerned for Myka and glaring daggers at Artie, Artie was busy wondering why Pete was mad and what debt he had to repay, and Myka was busy avoiding their gazes, paying extreme attention to the food on her plate she was stirring around with a fork.
Artie cracked first. He slammed his fist down on the table harder than he had really meant to, causing Myka to drop her fork. "Alright, Pete, what the hell?"
Pete simply stared. "Yes, Artie?"
"What is wrong with you? Why are you so pissed off?"
After a moment, Pete answered, "You made Myka cry."
"What? What are you talking about?" he asked Pete incredulously. "What did I ever do to Myka?"
Pete crossed his arms over his chest. "It's what you didn't do that's the problem."
Artie sat back in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The younger man scoffed. "Are you blind, old man? Did you never see how she looked at you?"
Myka tried to stop him. "Pete, don't-"
Pete shushed her. "When I found Myka that night, she was slumped in a corner of the hallway crying her eyes out, sobbing for all she was worth. When I held her, all she could say was, 'At least he'll be okay.' " Pete glared at Artie hard. "Ring any bells?"
Artie was beyond puzzled. "Pete, I swear I have no idea what on earth you're talking about."
When Pete started to get up, Myka put her hand on his. "It's okay, Pete, I'll tell him." After a moment Pete nodded.
Myka turned to the older man. "You're a good kisser, Artie. You have just the right pressure, and your crooked smile gives the sensation of not just a kiss but a massage of the lips. You pull a girl in tight, holding her hard but gently, and you focus on her so much that she melts in your lap as you run your fingers through her hair and behind her ears, eventually cupping her face. You also like to nip at her bottom lip before you suck it in so she will open her mouth to you, after which you like to dart your tongue in and out quickly before you deepen the kiss." Myka stared down at the fork sinking into her food.
Artie was speechless. Claudia wasn't the kind to kiss and tell, and besides, she would never have picked up on that much detail. No, it took a person with a near-photographic memory to pull out a description like that. "But, but, Myka," he stammered, not sure what to say, "how, uh, how would you, um, know all that?"
Pete got up and put his hands on Myka's shoulders, gently rubbing them. "I'm here, Myks, I'm here." She closed her eyes and grabbed one of his hands gratefully.
"Because, Artie," she said, looking him straight in the eye, "when you were going through Rapture withdrawal, you almost died when you thought that Claudia didn't want to see you because she thought you were a monster and blamed you for what happened." She took a gulp from a glass of ice water. "I put on Harriett Tubman's thimble and changed myself into Claudia so that you could see that she was alive, well, and didn't hate you." She took another shaky drink of water. "I wasn't going to do anything but talk, but before I could move you pulled me in. You kissed me, and since I had desperately wanted it for so long, I kissed you back."
She expected Artie to yell at her, scream, throw things, anything, but he just kept still, watching her. Myka gulped and continued. "Leena caught on quickly to who I was and broke me out of it. I stayed and talked with you until you had fallen asleep thinking that Claudia was safe and sound and didn't hate you." She took another drink of water. "When I heard that you thought Claudia visiting you was a hallucination, I didn't say anything to change that idea. It was simpler that way."
MacPhearson's words came back to Artie. Something was done for you, Arthur, something painful and brave. He sighed. Oh Myka, I am so sorry.
Before anyone could speak, Myka got up from the table. "And now that I've utterly humiliated myself in front of my partner and my boss," she said bitterly, gathering up her dishes to take to the sink, "I think I'll go back to bed." Pete and Artie watched her walked straight-backed up the stairs and into the hallway. Both of them saw her shake as she entered her room crying.