Hi! This story's taking up my life (not that I mind)! Thanks to jellybean96, oldmoviewatcher and KJay99 who all reviewed, and Katchel who subscribed. Now... On with chapter 7!

Disclaimer: I only own the plot. R&R!

Pete completely ignored her order to run, and scrambled over to where the beams had fallen. Myka was still standing, but her eyes had become glassy, and he could hear her wheezing. Pete hadn't noticed the smoke until now, and realised that Myka, standing in the midst of it all, must have inhaled a lot more than he had. As he watched, Myka's eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Pete pulled his shirt over his mouth before speeding up and reaching the still flaming beams. Without a second thought, he leapt over and reached down to pick Myka up. He was now faced with only the option of throwing Myka over the ceiling beams, as he couldn't jump with her in his arms. He did throw her, but was careful to be as gentle as possible. Worryingly, Myka hadn't stirred since he had last seen her, but without thinking of this, Pete jumped over himself and once again scooped Myka up.

Pete didn't know where the Warehouse emergency exit was, or if it even had one, but he knew that he needed to get out somehow. The windows weren't an option, as they were maybe 50 feet up. No, the only way out was to find the door.

"This place needs a map," Pete mumbled. Myka was beginning to be a dead weight in his arms, and he hurried on even faster. The smoke was all around them now, and it was getting hard to see.

'I imagined my death to be a bit more... Romantic,' Pete thought, as the smoke closed fully around him. It was getting hard to breath. Pete thought about all the people he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to, before gently setting Myka down and letting the smoke take him.

Pete woke up to agonizing pain, and fresh air in his lungs. He slowly opened his eyes, and saw the vast stretch of South Dakota surrounding him, along with a sight that made his heart clench. The remains of the Warehouse were scattered around him; pieces of charred wood and broken artifacts littered the floor of the desert, and Pete knew Artie would be there shortly. He had no idea how long he'd been out, but the last time he'd spoken to Artie Myka was-

Pete cut himself off.

Myka.

He stood up on shaky legs, before collapsing back down again. His right leg was useless; he chanced a look down and wished he hadn't, as his leg was in ribbons. He realised that in order to find Myka he was going to have to bear the pain. He tried moving his leg, which he could, but not without pain. Nevertheless, he stood up again, gritting his teeth, and cast his eyes around the desert. He spotted something blue among all the brown and blacks, and remembered that Myka had put her blue jeans on again today. He went over as fast as he could with his bad leg, which was walking, and began to lift off the easier-to-reach pieces covering Myka. Once that failed, he abandoned the idea and got down onto his good knee, before lifting the pieces off with much more speed than before. Eventually he unearthed her, and sighed. At that moment, he honestly believed that he'd lost her. Her face was caked in dried blood and dust, and she was breathing lightly, if at all. Myka's arm was bent at an odd angle, and her neck didn't look too good. Burns covered her body, and there was an obvious head wound.

'I promised her,' thought a devastated Pete. 'I promised her that she would be safe with me, and look at her now.' He got the Farnsworth out again, only to realise that the fire had melted it beyond recognition. The only thing left to do was wait for Artie.

Artie and Claudia arrived not long after that, and as soon as they saw the Warehouse, Claudia slammed the brakes on.

"Oh... My..." Claudia couldn't finish, and Artie was speechless. Claudia saw Pete waving a few hundred yards away, and grabbed Artie's arm. "Artie... Pete..." She choked out.

"I know. I see him," Artie replied. He looked at Claudia, and his eyes were dull. Claudia stared back for a long moment, before getting out of the car and running over to where Pete was sitting. She recognised Myka lying at his side, looking half dead, and that Pete's leg was torn to shreds.

"What happened?" She breathed.

"The artifact caused a fire," Pete explained, without taking his eyes of Myka. "Myka touched the painting in Connecticut, and the artifact related fire. She said she was fine, but when we got back here she had a few fainting spells before going into a full out fit, and setting fire to a crate. I poured neutraliser over her, and she went back to normal, but the fire carried on, spreading through the whole Warehouse." Claudia looked at him then Myka, horrified. "We couldn't find the back door," Pete muttered. Artie wandered over, not saying anything, and picked Myka up. Both of you get in the car," he said. "We need to get to the hospital."

"Artie," Pete started.

"Save it, Pete. I will speak to both of you as soon as you're well enough. Don't hold your breath on keeping your jobs."

Pete shook his head and, leaning on Claudia, limped back to the car she and Artie had come in.