Disclaimer: Warehouse 13 in no way belongs to me despite what I sometimes like to pretend.
AN: I don't even know how to thank you guys for reading this and then writing such nice reviews. I don't know why you're even still reading it to be honest, but thank you anyway for sticking through the madness.
Chapter 7: The Story You Wish You Knew
People like to believe that we are born pure and innocent. A baby knows no right from wrong, good from evil. They have not been betrayed or lied to. They have yet to be disillusioned to their parent's greatness. Children love with their whole heart, because they know no other way. They have a simplistic view on life, with no worries beyond what kind of juice they'll have at lunch, or whether their best friend would like to play with them that afternoon.
Then, little by little, they grow up. Their trust is chipped away bit by bit, they find out there is no Santa Clause, their best friend doesn't say hi to them anymore. They fall down, and instead of getting back up as they used to, they begin to no longer see the point in rising up just to be knocked back down.
Where they once believed in fairytales, magical beasts, heroes and heroines, now they only see smoke and mirrors and lies. They keep trudging along, trying to cling to that sense of wonder about the world they once had. The closest they get to finding it once more, is when they get a child of their own, and witness the laughter light their eyes, the innocent questions that have complicated answers. Then, then they see innocents in the world again, and fight tooth and nail to protect it, all the while knowing it won't last forever.
Death is the thing that perverts all innocents. Once it has been experienced, there is no turning back to the way things used to work in the world. You now have to ask what your world will be like without that person in it, and you feel all the fantastical futures you dreamed slip away and be replaced by fear.
And yet, we must go on believing that everything, even death, is all worth it in the end.
Myka watched her baby sleep in the crib, now back at her home with Helena tucking Christina in down the hall. She thought about how much this tiny person meant to her, even though she hardly knew him, even though her brain was insisting he didn't actually exist, she felt the urge to protect him with her life.
She watched his chest rise and fall, the little jerks of his feet as he slept. When his breaths skipped a beat, she found herself placing her hand on his chest gently, holding her own breath until he resumed.
She left him then, knowing she could spend the whole night watching him, but also knowing she couldn't handle it much longer. She walked down the hall, tracing her fingers over the mantle with photos propped on it. She found one of her and Helena standing on either side of Christina, at some sort of science fair. She looked happy.
The book shelves in the living room, lined with all the classics, including the ones written by HG's brother. She felt a smile tug at the edge of her lips as she touched the spines. She must've read her copy of Time Machine two hundred times as a girl, with a flashlight under her covers so her parents wouldn't see the light.
But is that even a real memory? She felt her smile die on her lips as she thought that. She took the book in her hand, opening to the first chapter.
"The Time Traveller," she whispered to herself, "(for so it will be convenient to speak of him) was expounding a recondite matter with us…"
For some reason she found relief in the words she knew by heart. She was so focused on the book in her hands, she hadn't known Helena approached her from behind, reading over her shoulder and listening to the rise and fall of the agent's voice.
"I do not mean to ask you to accept anything without reasonable ground for it," Helena chuckled as she read from the same page further down, making Myka start slightly, "That is just plain plagiarism, and if Charles were still alive, I would have half a mind to bring a suit against him."
She pulled back from Myka, not unaware of the woman's discomfort.
"Did he quote you often?" Myka asked in a light tone as she returned the book back to its proper place.
HG simply shrugged, "I suppose. But we do borrow from our siblings, so I guess I can't be too cross with him for never mentioning me."
They fell silent once more as Myka continued her tour around the house, eyes tracing the tokens that proved a happy life. But she felt like a third party observer, walking in a life that felt familiar and foreign all at once. It was a life she could imagine having, but never daring to consciously hope for.
That was the problem she was having with this whole situation. She wanted it to be real, so very badly did she want it to be real. But it was too good to be real.
"You can stop staring at me," Myka rolled her eyes without turning to face Helena. She could feel the woman's gaze on the back of her neck. They had circled back around to the living room, and Myka sat on the couch, crossing her bare feet beneath her, "I'm not going to do anything crazy, I learned my lesson."
"I'm sorry," HG muttered as she too sat on the couch, with her back leaning on the arm rest so that she faced her wife, "But I am worried about you, Myka. For God's sake, you tried to kill yourself."
"I tried to wake up." Myka corrected, clenching her jaw.
"You still think this is a dream?" Helena sounded angry, but she put a taper on it, trying to keep her voice low so as not to wake the kids, "And you think you're going to wake up as someone else, somewhere else where I'm with some person named Nate?"
Myka didn't realize she started to tear up, until a salty drop fell to her ankle. She kept her face down, hair curtaining her face, studying the fringe of her pants with more intensity than strictly necessary. But HG knew better, she leaned forward, brushing the long locks behind her ear, fingertips caressing her face lightly for a moment.
"I'm sorry, I just cannot fathom a reality in which we are not together." She spoke softly before pulling back to her side of the sofa.
Myka looked around her, at the photos adorning the walls once more, the dog laying in the corner, lazy brown eyes watching his owners, at the baby bouncer and the pile of school books. Curiosity and wonder sparked in her.
"I don't remember…" she looked up at HG, showing the first bit of vulnerability all night, "I don't remember our life together. Will you tell me?"
The inventor's dark eyes studied her for a moment, "What would you like to know?"
"From the beginning," she turned to mimic the other woman's posture, pulling her knees up to her chest, watching Helena closely with those beautiful green eyes that always seemed to see more than everyone else, "When we first met."
Helena smirked, "You read the manual."
"Of course I did." She rolled her eyes, "I'm not Pete."
"And you got curious as to why there were no records of the bronzer written in the manual. So, you kept digging in to it until you finally came across my name. You read my file, though you never explained how you came to find it, and you pestered the regents until they debronzed me. You were so excited when you met me," her eyes sparkled, "Here I was stumbling around, trying to get used to walking again and trying to get somebody to debronze Christina, and this beautiful woman was practically jumping up and down. I believe Claudia called it 'fangirling'?"
"That's embarrassing," Myka groaned into her legs, scratching the back of her neck as she felt the heat spread over her face.
"It was adorable," Helena assured her with a small chuckle, "You didn't realize how distracting your presence was to me all the time. At the hospital with Christina, the way you told off the doctors and nurses who tried to question me. Then around the Warehouse, watching you put that amazing mind of yours to work… I never stood a chance. I wouldn't have ever had the nerve to ask you on a date if it weren't for Peter, so I suppose I can't dislike him so much."
"Oh?" the taller woman lifted her head back up, town quizzical, "And how did Pete manage to get you to ask me out?"
"He was having a laugh at your expense," Helena's eyes flashed at the thought, "Though you seemed to be taking it good naturedly, and I see now that's just how you two function, but at the time it struck me oddly and made me indignant. Something about not having a date in over a year, while even Claudia had managed to find a boyfriend. I told him it was untrue and that you had a date scheduled for me that Friday."
Myka snorted, "And how did Pete react to that?"
"With a gaping jaw followed by what I'm sure were several terrible innuendos that, thank God, went over my head. More importantly, I was mortified at my own forwardness. I hadn't thought it through, and I had never expected that you would actually agree to go with me."
"Where did you take me?" she turned her head to rest on the back of the couch, enjoying the look Helena got in her brown eyes when she told a story.
Helena told her about the small book store, where they bought their first book in their shared collection of classics, about the Italian restaurant and staying out later than they thought, walking through the streets and discussing everything that crossed their minds. How Myka had been the first to intertwine their fingers together, and the jolt of pure happiness it had sent to the Victorian agent's heart.
She went on to tell her how enamored Christina had become with her. How her eyes would light up when Myka read her stories, helped her acclimate to this century, assisted with her homework, though she never really needed it. She just enjoyed the attention.
She went to tell her about their trip to California, to retrieve an artifact. How difficult that case had been, the deaths that she had struggled to desperately to prevent. The balance of strength and soft heartedness, of beauty and intelligence, determination, ambition and stubbornness… it lead to the spontaneous proposal on Helena's part. She had wanted to ask her for a long time, never seeming to find the perfect moment to do so. And it was when they walked along the beach, after Myka had spent her anger yelling at the ocean, that Helena turned to her suddenly and blurted out that she wanted to marry her. Of course, they could get married for a while. It was still near impossible in the states. But that hadn't kept them from treating their relationship as a marriage.
"What about Caleb?" Myka asked after a brief lull in Helena's story.
At some point, as they always did. The woman gravitated toward each other, so that now, they were leaning toward each other, no longer on opposite ends of the couch, but where their knees had met in the middle.
"The way you were with Christina was beautiful, and despite her calling you 'Mom' since the moment we told her our plans to wed, I could see the longing in you to have your own child to hold and raise." Helena sighed heavily, sharing in her wife's pain, "So we decided, why not go see a doctor, see if it's even a possibility for us to do invetro, because I could see, though while you were willing to adopt, you really would rather have your own."
"But they found the cancer." Myka inferred from HG's prolonged silence.
"Yes," She responded as though the word itself caused her pain, "While I was worried for your life, you were so distraught about the baby you had always imagined. That's when your sister had volunteered to be our surrogate. Then came the deal of choosing your sperm donor," she rolled her eyes, "We were getting nowhere fast because you were finding it impossible to choose one who met your standards, and if you did, you didn't trust it. That's about when Pete volunteered."
Myka shook her head, "Wait, so you're telling me Pete is Caleb's father?"
"Only biologically," Helena bristled, "He was a difficult choice to argue against. He's healthy, we have his complete medical records. He fit all of your requirements as well as my own. Everyone was willing to do what it took for your happiness, though Pete seemed too willing…"
Myka thought back to the Dog Tags she and Pete had been sent after, the ones that Pete accidently used to make her pregnant… she didn't share this memory out loud, since she was sure Helena wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. That's when it clicked, she realized what that look on the older agent's face was.
"You're jealous of Pete." Myla smiled slowly.
"What?" HG pulled back, "No don't be absurd." She waved her hand.
"No, no, HG I can see it in your face, that's why you don't like him," Myka poked playfully at her, "You're jealous of Pete! Why is that, huh?" she laughed.
Helena's face flushed red as she avoided eye contact, "It's petty, I know, but it bothered me how close you two were. And how he was able to give you something that I couldn't, namely a baby."
"Look, Helena," Myka shook her head, "I love Pete, but I've never felt for him the way I feel about you. And Pete may be the one who provided the stuff," she waved vaguely, "But you're the one I want to raise our son with." She indicated the two of them with her finger.
Helena looked away, still clearly embarrassed at the irrational feeling, but also happy at what Myka had told her.
"Tell me another story," Myka requested with a yawn as she moved to lay across HG's lap.
Helena told stories of their shared life until the early hours of dawn, slowly running a hand over Myka's hair until she fell asleep in her lap, a contented look on her face. The sight warmed a part of Helena's heart that had grown cold through the night. She began to hope then, that Myka would really return to her as she had been.
While Myka's final thoughts before drifting off were still firmly in denial of any of this situation being real, she entertained the thought that it could be real. After all, it wasn't a bad place to be stuck, surrounded by people who loved you, in a world where everything had gone right. Not a bad reality at all.
Meanwhile, the reality for a man was quickly turning dark under the almost sadistic nature of a slightly psychotic Brit.
"Keep walking forward, we're almost there," She ordered him.
The problem was he was handcuffed and blind folded, so he was wary of tripping and falling. HG sighed and clicked a button on the small remote in her hand. Dominic's body seized under the currents running from his wrists through his whole body.
She would never get tired, it seemed, of causing him pain.
She took no pleasure from it though. It only served as an outlet for her anger now. She was growing more impatient, more anxious by the minute, and the man she held prisoner seemed to be purposely dragging his feet. She preferred when he was unconscious in the car, honestly.
When they reached the end of the umbilicus, she yanked him to a stop by his bound hands, before reaching around him and banging on the heavy metal door. She glanced up to the corner, giving a small wave and a smile to the camera she knew Claudia had put there.
After a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity, there was the sound of protesting metal and the door swung open.
Claudia, looking a little worse for wear if the older agent were honest, stared at her in complete disbelief.
"You hung up on me," was the first thing she said.
"Hello to you too, Claudia." HG said before shoving the man forward into the front office.
Claudia stepped back, mostly in confusion, but also because the man that nearly stumbled into her was filthy, smelling of his own sick.
"Uh, HG?" she rose an eyebrow before looking around, "Who the frack is that?"
"This," she removed the bag from the man's head, "Is Dominic, I borrowed your hand cuffs by the way. They were very handy." She nodded in appreciation, ignoring the look of horror on young redhead's face.
Claudia looked to the restraints, "You changed them!" she complained, despite knowing that wasn't the issue at hand.
"A few minor adjustments, I assure you." She lead the man to a metal chair, "look, I honestly have no idea what will happen if I hold that button down while you sit in this chair, so keep your mouth shut." She spoke to the man now,
"What is she doing here?" Pete demanded as he entered from the Warehouse floor, followed by the other two male agents, "Claud, did you let her in here?"
"Oh, bugger off, Agent Latimer," HG growled, "You think you'd be more appreciative of the gift I brought you." She moved out of his line of sight so he could see the beaten man behind her. His nose was bleeding slightly, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut.
"Hey, that's the guy from the Barn," Pete snapped his fingers at him, "He's the guy I cuffed."
"Fat lot of good that did, I see." Helena rolled her eyes.
"Wow, what did you do to him?" Steve asked, moving to check the man's wounds.
"Less then what I wanted to, I assure you." She handed the remote to the cuffs over to Claudia, suddenly feeling very tired as the warmth of the Warehouse surrounded her.
"How did you find him?" Artie asked, moving so the five agents all stood in a rough half circle around their captured man.
"Does it matter?" Helena crossed her arms, "The point is I found him, and he is going to help us find the artifact, aren't you, Dominic?"
"She's crazy," The man looked to Artie for help, "She was going to kill me!"
"She still will," HG warned him with a level gaze.
"Thanks, HG, we've got it from here," Pete held a hand up at the Victorian agent, "You've done more than enough."
Helena was about to protest, but Artie beat her to it, "Play nice, Pete. We need her particular skill set and lack of empathy now."
"Aces," HG couldn't help the grin on her face, "Dominic here says he doesn't know where the artifact is but he knows who has it, and how to find him."
"Is that so?" Pete asked, staring intently at the man who got away from him in Alaska. He had imagined finding the guy so many times, and now here he was in front of him, and he had HG Wells, of all people, to thank for it.
He was, at least, going to put the anger he felt to good use.
"You're gonna start talking," Pete growled at him, leaning in to the chair with both hands on the arm rests, "And you're gonna start talking now. Otherwise, we are going to accidently leave you alone with Agent Wells over there."
The man's eyes darted around the room, fear icing in his veins once more.
AN: The quotes in this chapter are from HG Well's novel the Time Machine. And the cuffs I am referring to are the ones Claudia uses on Artie in the season one episode, Knock, Knock. Sorry that this chapter is a bit shorter, I felt like I hit a bit of a wall. But please, tell me what you think of the story so far.