A/N -

Alright lovelies, for this chapter I switched up the layout a bit, switching it between Myka and Claudia's perspectives. I'm thinking of doing the same thing for the next chapter, but I'm undecided still atm. The rating has been changed to M for language. Thank y'all so much for following/favourite/reviewing. Reviews make the world go 'round V(-.-)V. Claudia's confession is coming in the next chapter, promise! Thanks again to my awesome beta-er ~

~ Myka ~

Myka say on her bed, a book open in front of her. She had read the same sentence a dozen times over, but today the words weren't keeping her attention. Her usual escape from the world hadn't been able to take her away for awhile now. Nothing seemed to.

With a frustrated humph, she closed the novel and briefly closed her eyes. She returned the literature to her night stand and replaced it with a meticulously organised binder. Flipping it open, she perused the already well worn pages. She knew all of the information inked on the pages by heart. Hell, she could give a very well educated lecture on the symptoms, treatment options and surgical procedures detailed within. It was safe to say this was one subject she never wished to be so well versed on. She wouldn't wish it on her worse enemy.

Cancer. The word seemed to leap off the pages and slap her in the face. It demanded to be heard and no matter what the young agent tried to do, it remained like a painful thorn; constantly reminding her of her predicament and the consequences there-in. A little over a week had passed and the shock of her diagnosis had yet to wear off.

Myka sighed quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had managed to keep the news from the others. Her mind played through a thousand different scenarios of potential reactions, and she wasn't prepared for any of them. But on the other hand, the silence was starting to take its toll.

Mrs. Frederic knew, of course. Myka chuckled bitterly. Nothing escaped that woman.

Myka sat outside nursing a cup of tea, lost in thought. The doctor's words from the day before replayed themselves like a broken record in her head, "We might be looking at ovarian cancer… Myka? Myka, I think we need to start looking at treatment options." A tear marked its way down her cheek. She stared down at the cooling mug in her hands and released a shaky breath. Helena had gotten her hooked on tea.

Helena…

"Agent Bering." The authoritative voice broke through her thoughts. Myka jolted back to reality, nearly spilling her drink in the process.

"Mrs. Frederic" she stuttered, quickly and as discreetly as possible wiping her cheeks. She glanced at her watch, "It's nearly 2 in the morning."

The woman in tweed appraised her coolly and with… was that a hint of sadness Myka detected in her eyes? "I am well aware of the time, Ms. Bering."

"Uh, yes, well…" Myka fumbled for words, forcing a polite smile on her face, "What are you doing here? Is something wrong with the Warehouse?"

Mrs. Frederic gave a small smile, "No, the Warehouse is fine," she sat in the chair opposing Myka, "I am presently more concerned about some of its agents" she said pointedly.

Myka slumped back in her chair, her mask dissolving. "So you know, then?" she asked quietly, her finger absently circling the rim of her mug.

"Yes, I do" the caretaker confirmed.

"And?" Myka whispered tersely.

Mrs. Frederic folded her hands together, "To get the more business side out of the way first: at this time the Regents and I see no reason to detain you from working in the field." Myka visibly relaxed as the woman continued, "As time goes on and you become more heavily... involved in your treatments, we will reevaluate when it would be best for you to temporarily step down as a field agent." The brunette agent's eyes filled with tears as she nodded quietly.

"But, regardless," the caretaker continued kindly, "The Warehouse is your home. As long as you want to be here, you are welcome. There will be plenty of things around the Bed and Breakfast and the Warehouse that will keep you occupied as you are physically, mentally and emotionally able."

Myka looked at her through tear filled eyes, "Thank you, Mrs. Frederic" she whispered.

The older woman nodded as she stood, "You are most welcome, Agent Bering." She straightened her skirt, "now the question I have for you is, what do you want?"

The curly brunette looked down at her now cold mug, "I want to stay here, of course," she looked back up at the seemingly ageless caretaker, "Like you said, this is my home. And they are my family." Mrs. Frederic nodded her approval. "I want to tell them myself," Myka hastily added, "Including Artie."

Mrs. Frederic nodded in approval again, "I respect that," she said, "the only one who will be told is Abigail, in case she were to become needed. She will be given express instructions to treat you no differently or to approach you about it directly." A hint of understanding crossed the woman's face, "I know she's not Leena," she said gently, "But we brought her to the Warehouse for situations such as this."

Situations such as people dying, Myka thought bitterly. She nodded her acknowledgement, "I understand."

"Good," Mrs. Frederic turned to walk away, "Oh, and Myka," Myka looked up, startled at the sudden informality. Now there was no mistaking the sadness on the caretakers face, "Take care of yourself." With that, Myka was alone again. She leaned her head back against her chair and the tears flowed anew.

True to her instructions, Abigail treated the agent no different than before, and never brought it up. The only confirmation Myka had that the psychoanalyst had received a visit from the caretaker too was the almost imperceptible nod Abigail gave her the next morning at breakfast. Myka gave a small nod back before setting to work peeling an orange. And that had been that.

Footsteps outside her door interrupted Myka's thoughts. She heard them hesitate, take a few steps away, and then return. Knuckles softly rapped against the door, "Myka?" Claudia's voice. "Myka, the guys headed out." Another beat of silence. "May I come in?" came the soft request.

Myka quickly flipped the binder shut and stowed it in its hiding place under her bed. The young redhead had been acting strange today. Not like Claudia. She took a deep breath and placed her "everything is fine" mask back on, "Sure, Claud," she winced at the forced lighthearted tone in her own voice, "come on in."

~ Claudia ~

Claudia almost turned away after the silence following her request. She grimaced as the horribly flat acceptance from Myka came through the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and slipped in, closing it quietly behind her. She quickly appraised the Myka sitting before her. Her heart threatened to break all over again. When was the last time Myka had actually eaten? Or slept? The older agent sat cross legged on the middle of her bed, guarded eyes and a forced smile stamped on her face. She was trying so hard.

Her darkened green eyes seemed almost too big for her taunt, overly pale face. The dark curls that were usually tamed into some sort of organised disorder now stuck out in every which way; which Myka was presently combing her fingers through while sizing up Claudia. She wore a plain t-shirt that hung loosely from her frame, legs hidden amidst blankets. Probably her pajamas, Claudia realised. This was the first time the young hacker had actually looked at her figurative older sister since learning of her diagnosis, and it only added fuel to the fire of her breaking heart. God fucking damn it Myka, this isn't you, she thought fiercely as she briefly closed her eyes. Opening them, she took a breath and made her way from the door to the foot of the bed. "Myka, I need to talk to you," she said boldly, mirroring Myka's position.

~ Myka ~

Myka blinked at the sudden change in Claudia's demeanor. She had come into the room timid, almost scared, silently staring at the older woman. The curly brunette became very aware of her disheveled appearance and casually tried to straighten herself out. She was Myka Ophelia Bering. She was not disheveled.

As her fingers caught and detangled the gnarled curls, she continued to regard the young redhead. She could almost see the gears turning at an impossible rate behind Claudia's eyes. Her face went from scared to guarded to worried to pained within a few beats. Then suddenly her eyes had a look Myka hadn't seen since Steve died -

Oh.

Myka felt the wind leave her lungs in a whoosh as Claudia walked to her bed and sat cross legged near the brunette agent. "Myka, I need to talk to you." she stated, sounding like herself for the first time all day. Myka sucked in a breath and tried to hide the tears already forming. She didn't know what to expect next, but she didn't think her mask could stay in tact much longer. She cleared her throat and looked back up, curls flying around her face as she locked eyes with Claudia. "Okay," she replied, "About what?"