Disclaimer: I still don't own any part of Warehouse 13 and honestly, I really don't want to. It's much more fun to play with the toys and put them back to play with later.
A/N: Thanks to all comments and reviews. Always appreciated and considered. Keep crying, keep laughing. Without one, you can't have the other.
"So, Abigail seems nice," Pete commented, trying to make some sort of conversation after the morning's heated discussion and alleviate some of the tension encompassing the room.
"Yes, Pete, she does." Helena grimaced with effort at what seemed minimal movements with her hand under the close eye of the physical therapist. He remembered first-hand from the last surgery how difficult it was to hold her back. This time was proving no different, and the work was more extensive.
"You are going to talk with her, right? I mean, it makes sense," he tried again.
She glared at him, moving on to another, more difficult exercise, clenching her jaw, regretting it quickly.
"Pete, please do not think we must converse at every one of these sessions on my account. I am quite comfortable with silence. I do my best to ignore the fact that you are far more acquainted with my personal life as it is by association."
"Huh?" Pete looked at her confused.
She stopped what she was doing, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, Pete. I know very well you serve as Myka's confidante and although I trust her to not share the more private aspects of our lives with you, I am not unaware that you know far more than I would prefer. However, it is to her benefit so I make few complaints. So please, do shut up."
"Wow. You really are cranky today," he complained, moving on to his next exercise. "Look, I'm not trying to get into your business, but it helps. I went to someone when I stayed with mom and I'm glad Abigail is here. I sure don't know what to do with everything going on in my head."
"Pete…" There was that glare again. He always wanted to cringe, but had learned to resist it.
They continued with their various work in silence, the therapist quietly guiding them in the awkward silence. Soon Pete would be done, but Helena would continue for a short time after a break.
"Am I really that bad of a kisser?" Pete finally asked what was bothering him.
Helena rolled her eyes at him again. "Pete, really. Don't take it so personally."
"Well, you seemed into it at the time." He stopped his task, staring at her.
"What did you expect? I learned long ago how to encourage a man's ego for my benefit. It was an action based on calculation, not desire. If you think back to the circumstances, it was a rather successful move on my part, until Myka showed up that is, and that damned cell phone of yours." Quickly tiring of his sixteen-year-old insecurities and getting more frustrated with her hand, she stopped at the end of her repetitions. Standing up straight she turned to face him and addressed him with all seriousness. "Pete, it was not my intention to hurt your feelings this morning and for that I am sorry. If I may, let me end this little pissing contest you so adamantly seem to think you must continue with me over your partner, who I remind you is my wife, regarding that damned kiss. I have experienced and enjoyed far more than my fair share of kisses with both genders. All have provided various degrees of some pleasure. It was not necessarily the kiss itself so much as…oh, how can I put this so you can understand?" She stopped to stare at the ceiling. "It's the…oh, bloody hell...it's the taste, God damn it. For the first time in this overly extensive life of mine, Myka…tastes...right." She enunciated the last three words. She sighed heavily at his pouting face, restraining from rolling her eyes in disgust once more. "I am sorry if you don't understand that, as I cannot put it in any other words that I think you can understand. Someday, I dearly hope, you will find that person too. Please, do not make me go into any further detail, and for all that is holy, if that even exists, from this point forward may we just drop the 'kiss' incident and move on? It's been nearly four years now and I have no intentions of letting go of what I have so fiercely fought for!"
For the first time in any of their interactions, either good or bad, Pete physically stepped back in surprise. After a full minute's silence, Pete cleared his throat. "You do realize you referred to MY partner as your WIFE. Have a good afternoon, HG." Pete turned around abruptly, leaving a sweaty Helena behind to continue with her rigorous session.
Helena was left staring at the door. She turned to the already uncomfortable young man and spat at him. "Well, let's get on with this. I have little patience for such mundane idiocy."
PT over. Desperately need a shower…Please. :-/
Myka stared at the text, frowning, the use of an emoticon not going unnoticed. Helena rarely asked for a shower so soon after PT, always waiting for Myka to return for lunch. Artie had been very flexible with her assignments. She assumed it was a directive from the top, but she still felt uncomfortable in asking to leave. She was happy remaining at the warehouse for now, letting Artie, Steve and Claudia do the field work. She had little time on her hands juggling her life to wonder why she had no itch to go out in the field. Pete was out for another three weeks at least. She was happy to wait.
Pulling out her Farnsworth she got through to Claudia.
"Hey, Claud. Tell Artie I need to get back to Leena's. Sounds like PT was rough today."
Claudia got pushed aside before she could open her mouth. Artie's face appeared, distorted by its close proximity to the viewer. "You know, we have someone for that now. Her name is Abigail. It was my understanding that Dr. Calder gave you both direct orders to schedule time with her. One of these days you are going to have to actually work."
"Well, Artie, I'm not really comfortable with Helena showering with anyone except me and I don't think it's in Abigail's contract, even in the fine print at the bottom. So, I'll be seeing you at lunch with a not stinky Helena. Bye." She slammed the Farnsworth closed. Claudia smiled as Myka walked past her out the umbilicus, Artie nowhere to be seen.
Myka arrived at Leena's to meet Pete walking out the door.
"Your girlfriend slash wife, or whatever she is, needs an attitude adjustment," quoting 'girlfriend slash wife' with his fingers. Turning towards her confused face he added, "Oh, and apparently you taste good." He kept on walking with no destination in mind.
"Huh?" Myka turned back and headed towards the office looking for Helena. She found her sitting at the desk staring at her workbook, pencil sitting in the middle of the desk. "What's up with Pete?"
Helena looked up blankly at her. "Bruised ego I should think."
"Now what did you do?" Myka asked almost sympathetically, afraid of the answer.
"Why is it everyone always assumes it is my fault? I merely clarified past events. Now please, I desperately need a shower."
Myka chose to ignored whatever exchange occurred learning long ago to let them sort their own issues out. "Good. I've waited all morning to see you naked." Myka smiled, trying to lighten the atmosphere.
"So it would seem from breakfast. Please try to keep your hands to yourself," Helena responded seriously.
Now totally confused, Myka mutely followed her to the bathroom and into the shower. They'd quickly established an effective routine that allowed Helena as much independence as possible. Myka knew how sensitive she was about being dependent on others for what, in her mind, were simple tasks. Though at first a high point in their day, and enjoying the pleasure of simply being able to touch the other in solitude, showering quickly became, for Helena, a matter of necessity in which Myka showered and stood by to assist when required. Helena remained adamant that Myka not come anywhere near her collarbone, claiming it was easier to gauge comfort on the still sensitive area. Myka knew she wasn't able to admit that the lack of sensation at the incision site was the true reason for her objections. The only task it seemed Helena took any pleasure in anymore was having her hair washed, relaxing into Myka's diligent fingers and finally leaning back into the wet, warm body with Myka's chin resting on her shoulder and arms carefully wrapped around the sensitive ribs.
Helena remained silent as Myka helped her dress and proceeded to dry her hair. Myka attempted to break the dead air by sporadically commenting on activities at the warehouse.
"Did you bring me any files?" Helena asked brusquely.
"Uh, no," Myka responded taken off guard by the abruptness of the question. "There hasn't been much activity. Sort of a blessing right now under our present circumstances. What do you want me to look for?" Myka threw the towel to the side where it hit the wall and fell into a heap on the floor.
"Anything. Perhaps something that has remained elusive for some time. Claudia hooked me up to the computer system and has shown me how to navigate some of the programs. She's insisted on working from here for the most part and would be available for any assistance I may require so you can spend more time at the warehouse. I assume she volunteered to babysit me."
"That's a bit harsh, don't you think? She wants to spend time with you and help just like everyone else does. She wants you to be part of the warehouse." Myka looked around the bathroom. "Where's the comb?"
"Wherever you left it last. Do you honestly think I need it after my hair has been pulled up out of my face?" she snapped. "And don't pull so hard today."
Myka took a deep breath, searching the drawers, finding the comb stuck in the back.
"I remember a time when you begged me to do this for you," Myka commented sadly.
"I don't need a babysitter, and she and Steve can go sleep in their own rooms. That's why they have them. Despite what everyone likes to assume, I was never much interested in foursomes. Two is plenty for me, thank you, if we ever resume the pleasure of such a thing that is."
Getting annoyed, Myka purposely yanked harder with the comb smiling at the anticipated expletive. "My understanding is that you are perfectly happy with margaritas for the moment. Considering you still have me sleeping next to you every night, that's a pretty low blow, Helena. I can easily find another bed. Our is still empty upstairs. I agree it's time for them to leave and they should have left after the first night. I also thought you'd have said something if you really wanted them to go. It's not like you've ever held back from making your opinion known to those around you, myself included." Myka slammed the comb down on the counter, her patience quickly evaporating. "I know you're going through hell right now. You want to know how I know? Because so am I! To top it all off, I get to watch you go through it at the same time and I can't do a damn thing about it!" She stopped, taking a deep, ragged breath. "You have no idea how much that hurts me. Don't think you are alone in all of this. So stop judging everyone around you."
Myka could hear the sounds of the others back from the warehouse for lunch. Taking the opportunity for escape, she looked down at Helena staring straight in front of her into empty space. She quickly pulled Helena's hair into a pony tail and walked out of the bathroom, stopping at the door she turned to the mute.
"Claudia isn't a babysitter. I suspect she's scared, just like the rest of us. I'm going to eat lunch with our family. Feel free to join us for once if you'd like. Oh, and you're welcome for the fucking shower."
Myka turned and quietly left the room. Helena stared at her throbbing hand, immobilized in its brace. Gingerly, she ran her right hand across her ribs and up to her collarbone, still unable to feel anything. Closing her eyes, she slammed her head back against the tiled wall and continued to sit in the pervasive silence she'd created around herself.
Steve and Claudia were putting the last items on the table while Abigail finished filling glasses with water when Myka walked in.
"Where's HG?" Steve asked as Myka sat down.
"Probably out berating other people's kissing," Pete mumbled.
Myka gave him an odd look, still confused by what was going on between the two. He shrugged at her, dishing up coleslaw.
"She's finishing up from her shower. Don't start waiting now. She can get something later if she wants. I'm sure she can figure out something since she's so creative."
"I'm working from here this afternoon so I can help if she needs it," Claudia said between eating apple slices.
Myka raised her head, contemplating. "No. Go to the warehouse. Let her figure it out on her own."
Abigail sat back observing the interactions and listening to the exchanges, quickly formulating a solid picture of the house dynamics.
"I can make up a plate for her," Steve offered.
"She can get it herself, Steve!" Myka snapped. "By the way, you and Claudia sleep in your own rooms now, and where's Artie?"
Steve and Claudia looked at each other quickly before Claudia responded weakly, "Uh, sure, Mykes. I guess you know where we are if you need us. Artie decided it might be best to eat over there away from you."
"What?" Myka exclaimed.
"Well, you know, he felt a little miffed after you left. He's cooling down, okay?"
"Why does Artie need to cool down?" Helena asked from the door making her way to the empty chair next to Myka.
"Ah, and here's Ms. Casanova herself," Pete snidely remarked. "Oh, that's right. You have a WIFE now. Sorry." He sat back in his chair drinking his milk.
"Oh, nice of you to finally bless us with your esteemed presence. And just what is going on with you two?" Myka looked between the two glaring at each other. "What's with all this wife shit? You know how we feel about that, Pete."
"Well, then maybe we need to invite Freud to lunch sometime," Claudia said under her breath.
"I don't think you're really in a position to ask us what's going on. Obviously, you and your wife have your own issues," Pete sneered.
Myka placed her fork down carefully and gave hi a blank stare. She wasn't going to fight him too.
"May I make a suggestion here?" Abigail interrupted.
"NO!" the others all said at once.
"Okay. Well, my door is always open as they say. I hear you have a magnificent garden. I thought I'd go wander around there today."
"Who bloody well cares where you intend to spend your afternoon?" Helena barked at her across the table.
"Helena…" Myka placed a gentle hand on Helena's arm causing her to jump away in surprise. She grimaced in pain.
"No, please, tell me what you think you can actually fix here. Can you fix this?" Helena held up her hand. Abigail sat impassive to the outburst. "You think you can take it all away? Do you even know what it's like to have your hand crushed in front of your very eyes? It's bloody useless!" Helena stood up spreading both arms across the table in front of her, everything in their path thrown to the sides, plates and glasses crashing on the floor. "It's just bloody useless!" Pete's glass of milk, the only thing left within reach, went flying across the kitchen crashing into the refrigerator.
Myka jumped back from the explosion next to her, backing into the wall and sliding down to the floor.
The explosion settled into a looming silence. Helena remained frozen at the table, eyes glazed over, all color gone from her face now and staring ahead at a wall of emptiness. Steve quietly got up and walked to her side, waiting for some sort of reaction. "HG?" he said quietly. She jumped and lashed out with her right arm straight at him. He caught her arm just before impact. "HG…it's Steve."
"NO!" she screamed in his face just before she turned to her side and retched what little food she'd managed to eat. He caught her before she collapsed, picking her up to carry her out of the kitchen. As he backed out through the door, he looked at Myka curled against the wall, Claudia sitting beside her, and looked pointedly at Abigail, tears streaming down his face.
"Where do we go from here and how do we get there?" He continued backing out the door, blindly making his way to the office.
Pete kneeled down in front of Myka and looked at Claudia. "It's okay, Claud, I've got this," he said quietly.
"No, Pete, I can handle this…"
"Claud," he tipped her chin up to look at him, "This is mine." He picked up his partner, wincing at the weight on his shoulder.
"Pete..." He looked at Claudia and shook his head, following Steve's path, but heading upstairs to Myka's old room. "Yeah, this is yours."
Myka dropped her head against Pete's, sobbing. "I don't know what's happening, Pete. What is happening to us?"
"I don't know."
"Claudia," Abigail caught her attention. "Let's clean this up and you can show me the garden. Does that sound like a good plan? I'm okay with silence."
Claudia took one more look at the now empty door before turning her attention back to the room.
"Yeah, sure, but I'm not cleaning up any puke," she said emotionless. "We have issues."
"So I've heard. It's a deal." Abigail smiled. "I'll get the broom…Uh, where exactly is the broom?"