Warehouse 13
High School AU
Eventual Bering and Wells

TW: alludes to abuse; jokes about rape

Chapter Four

Pete scanned the crowd of people moving to class. He knew she always came this way, so where was she?

He checked his watch; ten minutes until class started. There was no way she was late. Or absent. The girl was freaky that way.

No, wait, there she made a beeline towards her.

"Bering," he called out.

She didn't respond.

"Bering," he repeated.

Her head shifted slightly, but she didn't turn. He huffed and pushed around a large group.

"Bering," he said one last time when he was about a foot from her.

She turned and glared at him.

"I'm trying to get to class, what do you want?" she growled at him.

He stepped back and held his hands up slightly. "I just wanted to ask if you did your reading for Artie."

She gave him an aggravated look. "That's why you stopped me in the middle of the hall?"

He shrugged. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to be late. Do the reading in study hall."

He watched her vanish down the hall, then shook his head and turned in the opposite direction.

-oOo-

"Why do we need to know so much about Ancient Egyptian?" Lattimer whispered. He was leaning across the space between their seats.

They were seated in two of the armchairs in the room. Artie had given them their reading, then had gone to work with Leena on one of the computers in the next corner of the room.

"You really think I know?" Myka replied, slightly aggravated. She was trying to get through the reading. It was long and dull, and Lattimer's constant interruptions weren't helping.

He groaned and sat back in his seat. "But two weeks of Ancient Egypt," he whined. "It's so dry I'm not surprised it's in a desert."

"The land they lived on was actually really fertile thanks to the Nile," she absently corrected him.

He scoffed. "Of course you know that."

She looked up from the book in her lap. "We learnt that last year in World History."

He tilted his head slightly in thought. "We did, didn't we? You think I could just go through the notes I took?"

She looked at him skeptically. "You took notes?"

He grinned. "Well, I assumed you did, and still have them, and would be willing to share."

She rolled her eyes. "Read the book, Lattimer."

-oOo-

All Myka wanted was to pound in Lattimer's stupid face.

She was flat on her back on the sparring mats. Her chest was heaving as she struggled to catch the breath that had been knocked out of her.

Three weeks into their training, and Artie had begun to have them spar each other. He had gone through the safety rules, then just told them to not go too hard yet.

So far, Lattimer had been able to overpower her every time. Him and his stupid wrestling.

Leena was suddenly standing over her, hand outstretched. Myka took her hand and let herself be helped to her feet.

"You're smaller than him," Leena told her.

"Thanks, hadn't noticed," Myka muttered.

Leena brushed her comment off. "And you fence. You have speed and agility. Use it against him. Brain versus brawn. Speed versus force."

Myka caught her breath and let the words roll through her mind. She looked over at Lattimer. He was getting a drink of water. When he noticed her looking, he winked and grinned.

Leena was right; she had been going around it the wrong way. She looked at the older girl and nodded.

Ten minutes and three rounds later, Lattimer was the one on the ground.

Myka looked down at him for a few moments, slightly surprised that her move had worked, then she smiled and a laugh bubbled out of her.

She held a hand out towards him. He watched it for a moment, a series of emotions crossing his face. Then he smiled up at her and took her hand.

"Nice move," he said once he was on his feet.

"Thanks."

-oOo-

"You do know that my name's Pete, right?"

Myka looked up from tying her shoe. They had just finished a sparring session – 6-5 him, but he had gotten lucky in that last one – and were getting ready to leave. "Yeah."

"So why do you always call me Lattimer?"

She shrugged. "You call me Bering."

"Only cause it would be weird to call you Myka when you won't call me Pete."

"Why does it even matter?"

He shrugged. "I dunno."

"Do you want me to call you Pete?"

"I dunno."

She stood and nodded slightly. "Okay, Pete."

-oOo-

Myka rolled her eyes as she pulled a battered copy of Stephen King's 'Salem's Lot from between Dracula and I am Legend. At least there was some logic behind the misplacement. She checked the book for any extra damage then added it to the growing pile of books in her arms and continued down the aisle.

She reached the end of the aisle and put the books on the check-out counter. She started to sort them by what aisle they belonged to.

She paused when she reached an old children's book on ancient cultures. She briefly considered buying it and giving it to Pete.

She blinked. When had she started to think of him as Pete? Sure, they'd been calling each other by their first names, but it didn't mean anything to her.

Her brow furrowed. Didn't it?

-oOo-

It was another reading day. Still Ancient Egypt. Pete hadn't realized there was so much to learn about a dead civilization – well, not dead just not as active as Myka kept telling him, in bigger and better sounding words – but there was. They had to learn the history, the religion, the economic structure.

It all kinda just bored him.

He looked up from his book on late Egyptian rulers, and looked over at Myka.

She was curled up in her usual chair with her book of the week – something about language; she had a thing for languages – in her lap. Her glasses were barely hanging onto her nose and her hair was gathered in a messy bun. She looked more relaxed than he had ever seen her.

"Are you going to drop out next week?" he asked, disrupting the silence.

Myka turned to him. "Why?"

"The month requirement will be up."

She shook her head. "Not planning on it. Are you?"

He laughed, and she couldn't help but smile in return. "You couldn't get me to."

She looked like she was about to comment, but held it back and turned back to her book instead.

He smirked. She was totally warming up to him.

-oOo-

"Yo, Bering, where you rushing off to?"

Myka ignored the question and continued to search through her locker. She was going to be late getting home.

"I'm talking to you."

The voice was closer, and she didn't have any time to react before someone had grabbed her arm and twisted her around. She lifted her eyes see Kurt Smoller – star football and hockey player – less than a foot from her. He pressed a hand against the locker next to her head while the other held her own locker open, trapping her.

"You know," he said, "a month later, and you still haven't paid for what you did to Mike."

She fought back the cringe.

"So I was thinking," he continued, "and I may have figured out the best way you can do it." He leaned closer to her. "Of course, it would take multiple deposits, if you know what I mean."

"Leave me alone." She forced the words out, and was surprised when they sounded stronger than she felt.

"Make me." His voice was dangerous. The danger flooded his eyes, and she dropped her gaze to the floor.

"Hey, back off of her."

Myka looked up as Kurt's presence vanished. Pete was standing in front of her. He had pulled Kurt away from her, and placed himself between them.

"Since when do you defend nerds, Pete?" Kurt laughed.

"Since I got to know one."

Kurt's eyes flicked between Pete and Myka. A leering smile crossed his face. "Oh, I get it."

"Get what?" Pete growled.

"She's giving you some help with a few classes, and you're showing her a good time, right?"

"What? No."

"C'mon, Pete, man. How long you been fucking her?"

That was enough for Myka. Holding her book tightly to her chest, she pushed past them.

Pete watched helplessly as she vanished around a corner, then turned to Kurt.

"So I was right?" the older boy grinned. "You are fucking the slut."

"I've never slept with Myka."

"Why not, man? You should get on it before someone else does."

Pete grabbed his collar and slammed him against the lockers. He could see the fear in Kurt's eyes, but the boy refused to back down.

"Don't you dare hurt her."

"I dunno man, I think getting some might just loosen her up. It's not rape if you yell surprise. Am I right?"

Pete did the first thing that came to his mind. He punched him.

Kurt dropped instantly; right onto Pete's rising knee. The boy crumpled to the floor. Pete crouched down next to him.

"Don't even joke about hurting her," he growled. "Leave Myka alone."

He left it at that, and followed Myka's path through the halls. He knew there was only one place she would go.

He wasn't disappointed when he walked into the Room to find her sitting against the wall next to the door.

Her arms were wrapped around her knees, which were against her chest. Her face was hidden by her legs and her hair. Her body was shaking.

"Go away," she said without looking up.

"I just want to make sure you're okay," he told her.

"I'm fine. Go away."

He shook his head and sat down on the other side of the door.

"We both know you're not fine," he said. "You can talk to me."

Her head shot up. Her glare was terrifying, even with the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Talk to you? Why? So you can go joke about me with your friends? You won't believe what she told me. Listen to what I fucked out of her this time."

"Do you really think so little of me?"

"What have you done over the years to show me otherwise?" She looked across the room, then lowered her head again.

Pete twisted so he was sitting cross-legged and looking at her.

"I wouldn't hurt you like that," he said. She didn't respond. "I'm serious, Myka. Between kicking each other's asses and going through those ridiculous books Artie makes us study, I've come to at least tolerate you, if not like you just a bit. And I don't like hurting anyone, let alone people I like."

"So what do you call everything you did to me in the past?"

Guilt shot through him. He opened his mouth a few times to reply, but couldn't think of the right words. Finally, he forced some out.

"I was an idiot." He groaned. "I was the new kid, and wanted to fit in, and it was easier to just do what everyone else was doing. I know it won't undo everything, but I'm so sorry."

After a few minutes of silence, she turned her head so it was still rested on her knees, but she could see him.

"You're bleeding."

His eyebrows rose as he looked down at himself. Blood coated the knuckles of the hand he had punched Kurt with. He ran his thumb over the knuckles and grimaced.

"It's not mine. I decked Kurt after you left."

"Why?"

Her voice was laced with confusion, and he could hear the unasked questions. Why did it matter that he was talking about me? Why would you risk it? Why do you care so much? About me of all people.

"He kept saying stuff about you. I don't like people saying stuff about my friends."

After a moment, she let out a small sigh. "Thanks, I guess."

"Any time, although I am curious about why you didn't just deck him to begin with."

She lifted his head and looked across the room. "I can't," she softly said.

"What do you mean, you can't? You can kick my ass on a good day, and I kicked his, so you could totally cream him."

"That's not the problem."

"Then what is? Don't tell me you're scared of him."

She shook her head. "I can't get into any more trouble. Not after what happened with Mike."

"It's not like a few more detentions will destroy your future. Especially not with this." He nodded towards the Room.

Her face hardened. "You know what, Pete, just drop it."

She pushed herself up, grabbed her book, and left.

Pete sat in confusion once she was gone. He had thought they were making progress; what had made her close up?