Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the awesome world in which they live.
A/N: This one's a bit long, just a heads up. Feedback is always appreciated!
Aftermath
Chapter 4: This is Why We Fight
Helena tensed, as much as she could, given her current holographic state, at the serious tone of Myka's voice. "Alright, talk about what. As you can see, I've nothing but time."
Myka could hear the sigh in her voice as it lilted, poorly masking her disappointment. She shifted in her chair. She had constructed a mental list of the questions she wanted to ask, the discussions that should have been had and all the things she needed to tell Helena. Having been given the opportunity actually to do so, however, was slowly chipping away at her resolve. She took in the sight of holographic Helena and could almost feel her presence, smell her perfume. Myka imagined the sensation of reaching out to feel the warmth radiating from Helena's body, and felt an almost physical pain knowing these things were only the wild fabrications of her starved mind. She ached for Helena and this projection, while fulfilling her need to speak and be spoken to, did little else in terms of quelling her desires.
"I…" Myka stammered, "I don't really know where to start."
Helena slackened her shoulders and strode to sit on the bed opposite Myka. Myka almost expected the bed to sink slightly under Helena's weight, to hear the creak of springs or see a wrinkle in the duvet, but there was nothing. Neither did Helena pass through the solid structure. Myka cocked her head to the side, puzzling out the ramifications of Helena's change in posture.
"It's a manifestation of how I see myself, this. You see what I see in my mind's eye" Helena supplied, answering Myka's unspoken question, motioning to herself. "I can change my position; I can change my appearance. It all has to do with how my consciousness perceives itself." Myka nodded slowly. "The mind usually reverts to whatever is most comfortable: familiar. What is most safe and remembered. I imagine myself as I was before all this rubbish, and in this moment I believe myself to be sitting on your bed, therefore I am. Though," she paused, "In truth, I am neither sitting, nor am I actually here."
"Cogito ego sum." Myka quipped.
"Exactly."
Both women laughed and, for the briefest of moments, everything seemed right and easy. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the moment passed and uneasiness settled in again. And all that needed to be said and heard rose, again to the surface of Myka's consciousness.
Their eventual conversation was heated to say the very least. Myka had shifted from chair to bed, from bed to pacing the floor. Helena was certain that, had she corporeal form, she'd surely be dizzy from dancing around Myka while providing answers and explanations as best she could. It pained her greatly that due to her current state, she could not stop Myka's pacing, could not give a gentle touch of reassurance. She had doomed herself to a life of no physical contact, no comfort, no peace. And it was in this time with Myka that she felt the greatest need for such creature comforts.
She hadn't expected anything less. Well, not really. Helena had, of course, held on to a fool's hope that everything would be easily explained and forgiven and that she and Myka could continue down their previous path. This idea was, however, sheer folly and she dismissed as soon as it had crossed her mind, chastising herself for even entertaining so foolish a notion. She owed Myka so much more than an apology or explanation. She only hoped that her confessions and prostrations would be sufficient.
She was sincere and repentant as Myka battered her with question after question. It soon became clear to Helena that while Myka was overly accusatory, she wasn't truly angry. She was instead given the distinct impression that she and Myka were tangled up in a lover's quarrel of sorts. It was clear that Myka felt betrayed, she was snappish and her eyes creased with unspoken sorrow. And Helena knew the only remedy, the only balm to the pain she had caused, was truth. But these obstacles were not insurmountable and stemmed from trust and even, possibly, love rather than hatred and detachment.
Myka, for her part, was hurt and confused. Resentment at Helena's ultimate betrayal saturated her speech as she paced back and forth, like a woman on fire. The younger woman rarely found herself at the mercy of her emotions and, as a result, her nerves were raw to fraying. This is not to say that she was not a passionate woman, prone to bouts of intense empathy & elation, fear, sadness, love. She was merely unaccustomed to the savagery with which they currently overcame her.
Helena. It all came back to Helena. She cast her gaze on the projected image before her, knowing it was nothing more than fragments of light, bent and refracted around the shape of a woman that could really be any woman.
But it wasn't any woman.
It was Helena Wells, whose mere presence set Myka's soul alight even in the midst of all her anger. Helena, whose smug smile struck a chord in Myka that radiated from the center of her chest to her outermost extremities. Myka was furious, she was livid. And despite this, her heart beat against her ribcage like a captive bird and a sense of well-being flooded her senses when she heard the soft throaty lilt of the woman before her.
No.
Myka steeled her resolve. She could not let herself be distracted from the answers she was due. Helena had left her; lied to her. Betrayed her. The time traveler had held these terrible plans so closely guarded, even in light of their growing friendship. She was certain she had found a kindred spirit in Helena, but certainty was a luxury Myka could no longer afford. They had, previously, spent so many sleepless nights trading confidences, laughter, furtive glances and reassuring touches; all so seemingly empty, now.
They were rather alike, Helena had been right about that. Both were headstrong, intelligent, inventive, observant women who excelled in a field where they were often underestimated. In the dim hours of South Dakota dawn, one might find the two women holed up in the library discovering the varying shades and hues of their kinship to one another.
To say they "clicked" was a gross understatement and they both knew it. And while Helena enjoyed making provocative comments to illicit a blush from her friend and Myka graced her with more than a few knowing looks, neither woman wanted to risk jeopardizing their friendship by pursuing fleeting shadows of something more. Myka supposed the whole thing was moot, at this point anyhow, but that didn't seem to affect the way her body still reacted to the British woman across from her.
But still, the hours dragged on and their time was filled with endless questions and pleading answers until Myka's body started nagging, belying the exhaustion that was creeping over her. She was starting to feel the weight of so much talking, so many questions and far too much information. Helena had confessed to confusion and troubling darkness, but there, peppered in throughout the pain and regret, was the faintest trace of hope. Helena's contrition was sincere and absolute, the central focus of which was her realization that though she had suffered greatly in the past, it was her connection to the future that was worth pursuing, something worth building upon. She had been all too hasty to tear it down, and not willing to work, to see its potential.
She, through her rage and selfish victimization, could not see the intricate web connecting her to everyone around her, cradling her in a warm embrace. She had ties to the present that she had simply refused to see. To Pete, to Claudia, Leena and even Artie, despite the fact that his distain for her was essentially unwavering. To Myka. She could not, it seems, see the forest for the trees. These people with whom she had worked and lived, were fighting against all that she hated and hoped to destroy in her moment of mania. They were the hope that she could not see with her self-contrived blinders.
She had also, in her time of confinement, come to realize that her attempt to rid the world of the parasitic human race was borne not out of righteousness, but cowardice. To start over, to scrap this world, this present and start over would fly in the face of everything her friends, her co-workers, Myka stood for. To stand and fight, to combat the evil at work everyday, that was the true heroic course of action, the righteous choice.
To watch the world change for the better and knowing she had a hand in that change, that was the real challenge. Even in her request to be bronzed, she had taken the easy way, hoping to wake to a better world after playing no part in the shaping of it and having the audacity to be outraged. But there were no shortcuts. Myka had helped her to realize the complete madness in her plan, but it was this time, this distance, that allowed her to come to a more constructive solution and assuage some of her anger, her fear. She was a long way from full rehabilitation in any true sense of the word, but the work she was doing was real and she had hopes for the future, however small or unrealistic they might be.
Myka sighed and her shoulders slumped, her eyes, suddenly, felt heavy. She could see Helena's guilt ripple through her, almost literally. She couldn't deny her own desire to take everything Helena was saying as truth, even though past experiences begged her to be wary, but at this moment all she felt was tired. She also wished that all of this exposition could be behind them, and that they could simply be friends as they once were, to pick up where they had left off. This, more so than anything else, swayed her resolve.
"Helena," The raven-haired hologram merely blinked, expectantly, showing no sign of fatigue, "I can't tell you how much it means to me, hearing you talk so openly, honesty. I think I might actually believe you, believe in what you're saying. I think you really may mean it."
"I do, Myka I-"
Myka held up her hand to stop Helena, mid-sentence. Through the window, just over Helena's right shoulder, she could see the stars scattering across the South Dakota sky; they'd been at this for quite some time and Myka was drained. " I want to believe you, HG." Helena almost flinched at hearing Myka call her by her initials. It almost sounded clinical. "And we'll have more time to talk, more time to explore this. I want to help you find your truth the way you helped me back to mine." She paused, as another wave of exhaustion crashed over her. "I just don't think I can keep up much longer tonight and I don't want to do you the disservice of giving you anything less than my full attention."
Helena almost smirked and Myka's heart fluttered ever so slightly in her chest.
"I'm sorry Myka, I don't," there was that smug smile, "I don't sleep, or feel fatigue, I'm sorry I neglected to take your needs into account. The hour is quite late I'm afraid."
"Too late for Mrs. F, I'd wager. Would you mind staying here, with me, until the morning?" Helena's brow quirked up at Myka's suggestion, she wasn't quite sure what the younger woman was asking. "I won't make you go back into that thing" she motioned to the black orb on the bed, "Not if you don't want to."
Helena nodded slowly, "I think that would be fine. Myka, I-" Helena stopped herself, then spoke, quickly, "I have no right to say this and you can send me away if you'd like. I'd bear no ill will, I just," she exhaled a quick breath as if needing it to push the words from her lips, "I miss you. Terribly. I feel no pain, it's true, but I cannot help but feel this ache when I see you. I miss... us. And I would very much like to stay here with you until Mrs. Fredrick comes to collect me in the morning."
Myka stepped toward her and lifted her hand to brush a stray hair from Helena's cheek, remembering suddenly that Helena wasn't truly there. That, if she reached to stroke the side of Helena's face, she would feel nothing but the faint static that accompanied passing through the projected image. She stilled her hand and watched as sorrow washed across Helena's features, her hopes of feeling Myka's caress dashed by circumstance.
The time traveler attempted to make light of the situation, "Just another consequence of my carelessness, I suppose. This really is the best kind of torture; it makes a girl want to be good"
Myka gave her a sad smile.
"Pete seems to enjoy it." She almost giggled and Helena joined in the good humor.
"If he throws one more pencil through my head shouting point values, I'm going to," Helena started the threat in jest, "well, I suppose I'll simply let him. Not much I can do about it, now, is there?"
"It's all part of the punishment package, Wells." Myka nodded, greeting her with a smile that, Helena noted, reached all the way to her eyes as they sparkled mischievously. They fell into easy conversation for the first time since before Helena's rash act drew them apart and before long, Myka had completed her evening rituals and was drawing back the covers.
She slid in and watched as Helena lay down next to her on the bed, once again leaving no trace of her actual presence there. The light had dimmed and its only source now emanated from the faint glow emitted by Helena herself.
"Are you going to be able to sleep with," she motioned to herself, "this on?"
Myka smiled, "I think I'll manage."
Helena watched, fascinated, as sleep overtook the woman opposite her on the bed. Myka's eyelids fluttered as she drifted away. "Helena…" the woman's name fell from her mouth in a sleep-addled haze. "I missed you too."
Helena imagined that, had she form, her heart would have leapt in her chest. As things stood now, her ache that she somehow felt for Myka subsided and she was cradled in the warmth of well-being. Helena felt that this was the closest she would come to feeling at peace and relished it. "Sweet dreams darling." She said as Myka, her Myka, fell into a deep slumber. She ran her hand along the drowsy woman's jaw line, pretending to feel the warmth of her skin beneath transparent fingers.
Myka let escape the smallest sigh of pleasure. "Helena, I knew you'd come back to me."
"Myka?" Helena asked, she knew what she'd just heard, but wasn't sure what it meant. "Myka, darling, are you awake?"
Myka shifted closer to Helena and her hand passed through Helena's own, resting on the comforter. "I've loved you for so long. I knew you'd find your way back."
Helena didn't know what to do, how to react. She was elated; Myka expressed her love. But Myka was also about 20,000 leagues under the sea, asleep. She had no idea what to make of it, so she simply lay there, watching the shadows grow and shrink with the passing hours. She watched Myka's chest rise and fall, watched the faint smile dance on her lips as she slumbered peacefully until Mrs. Frederic creaked open the door to Myka's room in the early hours of the morning. Helena watched as she crossed to Myka's bed picked up the sphere and motioned for Helena to follow her into the hall.
"Ms. Wells, I hope you had an enlightening evening with Agent Bering. I will now echo Arthur's previous sentiments regarding your time with us here. These visits are to serve the purpose dictated by Agent Bering. As soon as you prove to be of no more value to either Myka or the warehouse, your visitations will cease and you will be confined indefinitely. Do I make myself clear?"
"Absolutely, Mrs. Frederic. I have not earned the trust I so badly desire, but I shall toil tirelessly to do so. I will be a boon to both Agent Bering and the warehouse as long as both shall have me. I shan't give you my word, as I'm, sure that carries little merit based on my past transgressions. Just know that I choose to dedicate myself to Myka." She paused, "And the warehouse," she added hastily.
"It seems we have reached an accord. May this and future visits serve to be mutually beneficial." With that Helena watched for an instant as the orb was lifted, shifted and dropped and she faded into oblivion with hope in her heart.
"Change the rules!" Myka was snapped out of the recesses of one memory and found herself reliving another. She registered the words Helena was speaking and pushed the pawn, just as she had done before.
"Checkmate"
The gears above-head started to grind and shift and Pete made an obligatory comment about something opening. Myka trembled with anticipation as the clamp around her throat opened and she caught the eye of the woman who had just run rampant though her mind. She would not let her go, not this time.
