Author's Note: Hello! Alright, we're back in time again, which from now on shall be denoted by the use of past-tense. (The prologue is the only exception.) Reorient your brain accordingly! Thanks to all who reviewed on previous chapters…I appreciate it! Spoiler Warning: Seasons 1-3 of Warehouse 13 are fair game.

Disclaimer: I don't own Warehouse 13. If I did, the El Camino would still be with us. I claim all spelling mistakes.

Chapter 3: Dead Ends

Leena's Bed and Breakfast. October 18th, 2011.

Leena never paced.

She wasn't the kind of person who paced. She was the kind of person who told other people not to pace. She was the kind of person who remained calmly in her seat, her head clear and her gaze steady. She was the strong one. The constant one. Whatever chaos the Warehouse decided to bring into their lives, she was the only one who managed to remain aloof and untouched by the turmoil.

Now, though, she found herself in the thick of it.

She couldn't stop staring at Mrs. Frederic. She couldn't pull her eyes from the shriveled, dried body of a woman who seemed so powerful, so full of life just mere hours ago. It seemed impossible to her mind that she was actually dead. That she was really, truly gone.

So she paced.

She walked back and forth, back and forth, her hands reaching for a sheet in the corner that she'd been using as a drop cloth. She gently placed it over the…She can't bring herself to call it a corpse. Not yet. She glanced over at the couch, contemplating checking on Claudia, but the front door opened, and three figures appeared in the hallway.

The relief was enough to force her into a nearby chair.

"Artie," She dissolved into tears again, but she was beaming. She looked at their faces…at their dusty, soot-smeared faces, and thanked whatever God was listening that they were alive. "Oh, Artie…"

He walked over and hugged her. Well, not so much 'hug' as collapsed against her, and the tenuous strength he'd been holding vanished in an instant. And it was only then, feeling his presence beside her, actually putting her arms around him and hugging him, that she accepted that he was really okay. That they were all really ok. She'd talked to him over the Farnsworth…but even then, she had to wonder if it was just some horrible hallucination—it was simply too good to be true.

She didn't let him go for a long time. Eventually, though, he grumbled into her shoulder that he needed to sit. She reluctantly allowed him to move unsteadily to the chair next to hers. He sighed, and didn't look at the sheet-covered Mrs. Frederic.

Pete and Myka did, though.

"I didn't really…" Pete muttered. He slumped down and gingerly lifted the sheet. His face went pale under the grime. "…believe it. I didn't actually think…"

Myka shook her head a little, motioning for him to stand. He understood her, in spite of the fact that she hadn't said a word. Don't bother. What's done is done. Try not to dwell on it. Remember, Pete: Business as usual, or you lose it. He agreed. It worked with Steve, right? It could work here, too.

"Where's Claudia?" Artie demanded. Leena nodded mutely to the couch in the other room. Artie removed himself from the chair faster than they would have thought possible of a man who just seconds prior had all but fallen into said chair.

She turned to the remaining agents.

"So…H.G.'s…" she looked at Pete and Myka, hoping they'd simply fill in the blank. They did, and simply nodded. "And the Warehouse? It's really gone?"

Another stiff nod was the answer from Pete. A sad, teary smile was the answer from Myka.

"Afraid so."

"Claudia was right," Leena admitted. "She said that Mrs. Frederic died because…because the Warehouse was destroyed."

"They're linked," Myka lapsed into her scholarly tone almost without thinking. "During the whole Warehouse 2 fiasco, we found out they have some kind of…bond. A physical link." She cast a weary glance at the sheet. "She said that if she died, the Warehouse died. I didn't know it could…work both ways." Leena nodded, though she still didn't know what that really meant. At least, what that meant for the rest of them.

Artie entered the room and returned to his chair. He sat down heavily and massaged his right temple.

"I called Vanessa," he told them. Myka bristled.

"Is Claudia okay?" she wanted to know. Pete looked ready to lunge towards the couch. Artie held up a hand.

"She's fine." He snorted at his own remark. "As fine as a twenty-year-old can be, going through something like this." He shook his head and continues. "That isn't why I called Vanessa."

"Then what—? "

"There's…something you don't know. About Mrs. Frederic. And about Claudia." He hedged. Leena could feel his anxiety in the air. It was so potent, it made her squirm in her seat. "But we can't talk about that now. What we need to talk about is this."

Leena knew what it was before he pulled it from his pocket. She'd seen it in enough photos, heard several rumors about it.

MacPherson's watch gleamed brightly against Artie's blackened hand, the rhythmic ticking sound conjuring up an unpleasant reminder of the metronome. Leena's eyes darted over to the artifact. She needed to get rid of it before Claudia came to…

"Please tell me that thing can take us back in time." Pete was only half joking. Maybe not even half. Artie shook his head a little sadly.

"It's not that simple." He told them, placing it on the table. "You know James was something of a…rebel. He didn't trust the Regents. He—"

"Yeah, yeah, he wanted to use the artifacts in the Warehouse for his own purposes. We know Artie…we have firsthand experience." Pete reminded him. "How does that help us bring H.G. and the Warehouse back?"

"It doesn't." Artie said. "At least, not H.G. And not Steve…and not Mrs. Frederic."

Renewed silence settled around them. Pete shoulders sagged. Leena knew what he must have been thinking: that Artie had made it seem like the watch was the answer to their problems. She offered him a sympathetic smile. He returned the favor with a sad nod.

"We can't bring back the dead. Not without…problems." Artie didn't expand on the topic. He knew that they were well aware of the consequences of such an action.

Leena tried to fight it, but the fresh memory of Marcus breaking in and threatening to kill her emerged from the back of her mind. He might have been walking around, breathing...but his aura, and his eyes, had been utterly lifeless.

"The dead stay dead," Artie continued, "because the watch doesn't deal with dead people." He closed his eyes.

"It deals with dead Warehouses."

The plot thickens! Hopefully folks are still enjoying the story, in spite of its timey-wimey nature. (Yes, I'm a Doctor Who fan.) Anyways, feel free to review! NEXT UP: A trip to Warehouse 12…