The next time you're in the same room with Helena, you're in Hong Kong, and you're actually with her this time, but the only things on your mind are Pete and the Warehouse.

Maybe there's a still a leap in your chest when your fingers skim against hers as you rearrange the pieces on the chess board, but it's secondary to the ache deep in the pit of your stomach as you worry about Sykes.

You wanted her back so badly, but you never wanted to trade her for Pete.

"You should have destroyed the Janus coin the moment you found it," she is saying. "Then I wouldn't have caused all this."

"I wish that you would stop doing that," you sigh.

"Doing what?" she asks.

"You're not the bad guy, okay?" you reply, looking up at her for the first time since this conversation began. "I believed in you and I was right, so get off your… your cross and help me figure this out."

"You really think that?" she asks. Her hands have stopped moving. One of them is still resting on a rook.

"Of course," you reply. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I betrayed you." Her voice grows louder. "I stole an artifact with which I attempted to create an ice age. I was ready to kill you."

"No you weren't," you remind her. "That's what saved all of us."

She throws her hands in the air. "So that's it then. The fact that I let you live absolves me of everything I'd done. I didn't realize not killing the person you—not killing a person was the marker of morality."

"No," you answer. "But everything you've done since? Consulting on cases? Helping us even though you had nothing to gain? You were willing to die for the Warehouse, Helena." You pause to take a breath. You expect her to argue, but she's just staring at you with a curious glint in her eye. "You don't have to keep trying to die for us. The world would not be better without you in it."

She purses her lips, looks away, considers what you've said.

"Righty-ho then." She's smiling when she looks back at you. "Old times. Wells and Bering solving puzzles, saving the day?"

"Bering and Wells," you answer.

She looks like she expected you to point out that it's really not like old times, that even if you've forgiven her, things will never be the same, but you're not sure that's true. You don't want it to be.

Regardless, you doubt this is the end of this conversation.

"—so it wasn't really a spur of the moment decision—that's not like your mom, right? But your mom… your other mom—"

"Mama?" Kate asks. Her voice sounds small. You can tell she's young, even though you can't see her.

You're back in the Warehouse, standing in the doorway of the office. Pete is kneeling in front of a rolling chair that's turned away from you.

"Right, she thought it was," he continues. "So we all pile in the car—your mom kept trying to tell us we didn't have to come, it was like she didn't know us at all—and we're all in our nicest clothes, and we drive an hour to Rapid City, but apparently, you have to call ahead because they don't have a Justice of the Peace in all the time."

"What's a Juspice of the Peace?" Kate asks.

You cut Pete off before he can answer. "What are you saying to her?"

Pete stands up. Kate giggles as he swivels the rolling chair so she's facing you. She can't be older than three or four.

"I was just telling her about how you and H.G. met and feel in love," he answers.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Not in too much detail, I hope."

"Nah, I just told her about how when we met Mama," he turns to look at Kate, "she wanted to do a bad thing, but you stopped her. You never stopped believing in her. That's what we do for people we love."

"You loved her?" Kate's voice is high and gleeful.

You smile. "Right from the beginning."

"Myka!"

Helena's voice snaps you back to the bunker.

"I know how to get us back to the Warehouse," she says. She studies you out of the corner of her eye. "Someday you're going to tell me what that is."

"As soon as we have a second to breath," you promise her.


Sykes goes down, and you hear Artie yell, "Myka, thank god! Come on!"

You're halfway down the row of shelves when you hear Helena call after you. She's wrapped tightly in a rope, dangling off the ground, gasping for breath.

"H.G.!"

"Rigging rope from the Mary Celeste," she gasps, wrestling with it as it pulls itself tighter around her neck.

"Hang on."

You make a grab for the rope.

"No, Myka, don't—"

The rope slithers around your body and pulls you off the ground. It slams you against her, a reminder that she's really here, solid again.

"Touch the rope…" you finish, "I imagine was the rest of that sentence." Your face is inches from hers.

You've dreamed of being this close to her, but not like this. You're too panicked about the prospect of being strangled to really appreciate it.

"If you pull at it, it only gets tighter," she tells you, although she seems to be pulling at it as hard as you are.

"That's…" you choke, "good to know."

"Will you ever learn not to play with these things?" you hear Artie ask. You can't see him, but he sounds more annoyed than panicked, so you figure you probably aren't going to die like this.

You see sparks flying over Helena's shoulder, and then the rope drops to the ground, leaving you both rubbing your necks and coughing.

You could kiss her right now, you think for a fleeting second as Helena recovers beside you. It would be so easy to close the foot between you.

But then Artie says, "Let's go," and you remember that Sykes is still loose in the Warehouse somewhere.

After this is over, you decide. After this is over, you're going to clench your fists and do it. You've had to live with missing your chance for a year, and you won't let that happen again.


It doesn't occur to you until you're running up to Pete with Helena and Artie how afraid you were that something would happen to him. You've spent the past year worried about Helena. Pete, you've taken for granted because he's always here exactly when you need him and usually even when you don't.

He hugs Helena and she looks almost comically confused by it. It takes her a moment to awkwardly wrap her arms around him and pat his back.

"Thank you," he tells her.

"Anytime," she answers.

The hug lasts longer than it probably needs to, and is only interrupted by Pete's Farnsworth.

Helena steps back to your side and raises her eyebrows at you.

You're standing on the second floor of Leena's outside a bedroom that you know isn't there now. The door is closed, and you make no move to open it.

"The way I see it…" Pete's voice, "we've both been given a gift. We get to be important people in her life, and we're both just trying to do the best we can."

"I quite agree," Helena answers. You can hear the hesitation in her voice, like she's waiting for a "but."

"You know… when she first told me about… when she first told me how she felt about you, I didn't get it," Pete says. "I mean, I did because—because you're hot, and a great kisser, even if you do taste like my grandma's sock drawer."

You hear Helena chuckle.

"But you know, you'd just tried to destroy the world—" Pete continues.

"Ah yes, that unfortunate business," Helena cuts in.

"Yeah, so, you know, I didn't get it." He pauses, and you hear him take a deep breath. "But that was before we were friends and before I really—before I really got how crazy you are about her. How happy you make her." He sighs. "I'm happy for her, but I'm happy for you too."

"That's kind of you to say."

"Hey, come on, H.G." Pete sounds less serious now. You can hear him smiling. "You're marrying my best friend tomorrow. We're about to be best friend-in-laws."

"Best friends-in-law," Helena replies. "Is that… what does Claudia say… is that a thing now?"

When you come back, Helena is still standing beside you, arms crossed. Pete and Artie are gathered around the computer screen. The red lights surrounding you are still flashing.

"The barrier's still up," you murmur.

Helena raises her eyebrows at you and nods, and you gather that you're slow on the uptake.

Artie takes off, mumbling something to himself. You can't hear what he's saying, but you all follow him anyway.

Pete drops back to your side and nudges you in the ribs. "It's been happening a lot the past couple days."

You nod. "More than usual."

"Still the same stuff?" Pete asks.

You sigh and nod. "Still the same timeline. It doesn't seem like it's been affected by anything that's happened here."

"Are you going to…" Pete trails off, and his eyes wander to Helena, just of few steps in front of you.

"As soon as all this is over," you tell him, your voice so low you're not entirely sure he can hear you. "I'm going to tell her everything."


As soon as you get her back, she's gone again.

Pete and Artie are yelling around you, but all you can do is stand, rooted to the spot, and feel like you've just have the wind knocked out of you.

She mouths, "thank you," to you. When you hear the beep of the timer hitting zero, she tries to smile. It's for your benefit.

The last thing she wanted to see was the sky.

"What is that thing?" she asks you.

You're standing on a sidewalk holding her hand. Her skin feels loose and papery. You've got a warm paper cup in your other hand. The steam wafting off of it smells like coffee.

"It's called the Cloud Gate." You can see your breath when you speak.

"The Cloud Gate," Helena repeats. "That's quite romantic."

"But pretty much everyone calls it the Bean," you add.

"Ah," Helena answers. "No surprise there."

"There you are!"

When you turn around, you see woman walking towards you. She has your curly brown hair, and she is carrying a young, dark-haired girl of east Asian descent.

"Kate, your mother was just telling me about your Bean," Helena says. Her hair is completely white, and she's wearing a pair of glasses you've never seen before.

Kate shakes her head. "It's ours and we love it." She turns to the girl. "Hey, Victoria, you want to go make faces at it? I think Grandma will help you."

"I'd love nothing more," Helena answers as she reaches for the little girl.

Kate shoves her hands in her pockets and watches Helena lead Victoria by the hand to the mirrored surface of the sculpture.

"How was your flight?" Kate asks.

You shrug. "Fine. Surprisingly quiet. I got halfway through my book. The Count of Monte Cristo."

"Good." Kate nods. "Mama spent the whole time staring out the window?"

You smile. "Of course. So, where's Ken?"

"In Seoul," Kate answers. "Visiting his sister."

"I thought his sister lived in Milwaukee," you say.

Kate shakes her head. "They grew up in Milwaukee. His parents live in Milwaukee."

You nod toward Victoria. "She's not with Jessica."

"Away on business," Kate explains. "Phoenix, I think. She's picking her up on Thursday."

"Have you talked to him about Brazil?" you ask.

She shakes her head. "I'm waiting for the right time. How do you tell your spouse that you took a job on another continent without talking about it first?"

"I can't imagine," you answer. "I'd say you should tell him that you've been destined for this job since you were born, but somehow, I don't think he'd believe that."

"It was a very time-sensitive offer," Kate says.

"Very," you agree.

The smoke is still clearing when you come back. The barrier flickers, and then it's gone, and there's nothing. The bent I-beams sticking out of the dirt and the scorch marks on the ground are the only indicators that you were inside a monstrous building just moments ago. You can see the Badlands for miles.

You feel a heavy weight fall across your shoulders, and you realize it's Pete's arm.

"Did you see…" His voice is choked. "Were you gone before…"

"I saw everything." You're unnerved by how even you sound.

He sighs and squeezes your shoulder. He doesn't try to apologize, and you appreciate it.

"That was his plan," Pete says. "To… destroy the entire Warehouse. We lost, Artie." You turn to face him as he repeats, "We lost."

Artie holds up something that looks like a stopwatch, but you know it must be an artifact. "Not yet."


They're talking about using an artifact to change the past. They're talking about it, and even Artie seems to think it's a possibility.

You thought you and Pete had established over a year ago that the past can't be changed.

"Artie, let's go," Pete says, rapping his hand against the side table. "Use the watch."

"Watch? What watch?" Claudia asks. She's sitting on the arm of the couch looking sullen. She's always been headstrong and impulsive, and she's lost a lot in the past twenty-four hours. You're not surprised she's jumping on this.

"McPherson's watch?" Leena looks from Claudia to Artie. "Artie, I thought you didn't know how that worked." Her eyes are red-rimmed. She knew Mrs. Frederic better than any of you. They've both been constants at the Warehouse since long before you and Pete.

"I don't," Artie answers.

"We also don't know if it has a downside," you point out.

"Well, yeah, but what difference does it make?"

It's the kind of answer you expect from Pete. You know he's trying to support you here, trying to get H.G. back for you, trying to get Steve back for Claudia, and Mrs. Frederic for Artie and Leena.

He's trying to help, but he's wrong.

"Well, it's a danger that we have to consider."

You hate feeling like the only adult in the room. You especially hate it now, when your mind is screaming at you to just be selfish for once.

"Who cares?" Claudia scoffs. All of you stop and look at her. "Mrs. Frederic is dead. Steve is dead. H.G. is dead." She emphasizes the last sentence, as if you didn't know. As if the fact that the world is in imminent danger isn't the only thing holding you together.

"I know, I watched her die."

Your voice is harsher than you've ever spoken to Claudia before, and you see her expression soften immediately.

It's not something you would wish on anyone, watching the final moments of someone you love, watching them die for you.

"But everyday people die," you continue. "Sometimes it's people we care about, and sometimes it's even people that we love. We just… we just need to make sure we're not being selfish."

You're in a dark room. You can see the light from outside through the blinds, but there's not a lot of it. It's raining. You can hear it against the windows.

"Hey there, kiddo." Pete's voice comes from behind you.

He flips the light on, and you see Kate. She's a teenager again. She's wearing a knit beanie with coils of yarn coming out of it like hair. It must have been a gift from Pete or Claudia, because it doesn't look like the kind of thing you or Helena would buy.

"How was it?" she asks. Her voice sounds raw. She looks very pale, and there are dark bags under her eyes.

"It was a lovely service," Helena answers. She strides purposefully toward the bed and presses a kiss to Kate's forehead.

"Wish I could have gone," she says as Pete directs you to the chair beside the bed with a hand on your shoulder. He reaches over and ruffles the yarn on Kate's hat.

"No one wishes they could go to a funeral."

"Did you… did you put some dirt in her grave for me?" she asks.

You squeeze her leg through the quilt. "Of course."

"She would understand," Helena tells her. "She loved you very much. She would want you to stay here and focus on your recovery."

"Do you ever think…" Kate hesitates. She looks over at you. Pete's hand is still on your shoulder. You can feel it shaking.

She starts over. "Do you ever think that someone else took your place?"

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"Do you ever think that you were the one who was supposed to die, but someone else went instead?"

You reach out and take Kate's hand. "No." You shake your head. "She was—" You break off because Kate doesn't know. "This is something that's been coming since before you got sick. Since before you were born, even."

Kate stares blankly at you. "She died in a freak accident at work."

"She had a very dangerous job."

"She was an engineer," Kate argues.

"She was an engineer with Top Secret clearance who worked with experimental isotopes and highly combustible chemicals," you answer.

Helena gives you a significant look, and you know that the time has come. Kate is going to be Helena's one person, and now she's old enough to know.

When you come back, the TV is turned on to the news. Artie and Leena are talking very quickly about Pandora's box.

There have been mass suicides, the stock markets are crashing, and it can all be linked to the destruction of the Warehouse. Hope has been pulled out of the world.

Suddenly, any downsides the watch might have seem trivial.


You're on a plane to Minneapolis, where you'll board a flight to JFK, where you'll board a flight to Paris. The past few hours have gone by in a blur. You're tapping your fingers against the armrest, shaking your foot. You need to be moving so you don't feel like you're wasting precious time doing nothing. You have twenty-four hours to save Helena and Mrs. Frederic, and it can't be right that you're wasting two thirds of it in the air.

Pete rests his hand over yours.

"We're going to get them back," he tells you. "It'll be fine."

"You can't know that," you answer.

He sighs. "I know we all have a bad case of emotional whiplash from the past twenty-four hours, and it's worse for you than it is for me, but you need to try to sleep. We need your head in the game once we touch down in France. H.G. needs your head in the game."

You glare at him. "That's not fair. Can you sleep right now?"

He closes his eyes and leans back into his seat. "I'm sure as hell going to try."

You're wearing a suit and standing by a set of glass doors. It's dark in the parking lot, but you can see an SUV with soda cans tied to the rear bumper parked directly under the nearest streetlight.

Kate is standing in front of you. She's wearing a long white dress, beaded and strapless. A thin, pink scar peaks out from above the top hem of her dress, just below her right collar bone. It's old and healed over, and it no longer draws your eye. She looks thin, and you're worried she's been dieting in anticipation of today.

"You'll eat while you're in Greece, right?" you ask.

Kate laughs. "Of course, Mom. That's half the point of going."

"You'll call us when you land," Helena says, and Kate nods. "We couldn't be happier for you."

She steps in and wraps her arms around her. Kate hugs her back with one arm and holds the other out to you.

When you finally pull away, all three of you are crying. Helena gropes for your hand and holds on tight.

"In thirty years, when Ken and I are at Victoria's wedding, we hope we still look as in love as you guys did tonight," Kate says. "I think you might have outshined us."

Helena scoffs. "Nonsense. We're a couple of old women. The two of you were the life of the party."

Kate reaches out and rests a hand on Helena's shoulder. "I'm serious, Mama. All my life, I've just wanted to be as happy with someone as you."

You wipe away a tear. "Well, Ms. Wells-Chae, we know you have a plane to catch tomorrow. We won't keep you."

Kate peers over your shoulder and then looks around the room. "If I can find Mr. Chae-Wells, that is."

You're back on the plane. Beside you, Pete's eyes are closed, but you can tell by the sound of his breathing that he's not asleep. You elbow him in the side.

"Ow!" he exclaims as he jerks upright. "Rude!"

"Pete, do you ever feel like… like your whole life is just the world playing a really mean trick on you?" you ask.

He presses the back of his hand to his forehead dramatically. "Every time I remember my work wife will never love me back and I'm destined to die alone in ag—ouch! Myka!"

"I know you're trying to lighten the mood, Pete, but this is not the time," you say. "I keep having these—it thought… it turns out things aren't always as they seem."

"You had a flashforward of a fortune cookie?" Pete asks.

"No, I was just…" You turn to look out the window. You can see a high school. You can always tell what buildings are high schools from the air because you can see the football stadium. "Listen, I'm going to tell you something, because now I know it's… that it's impossible. In the flashforwards, Helena and I have a daughter, and she's… she's sick. She's really sick. And I… I thought she died."

"Myka—"

"But I've been having flashforwards to farther along in the timeline than I've ever seen her, and it turns out, she gets better. She lives." You shake your head. "So, when I thought it was possible, I thought we were going to lose her. And now that I know we don't, now that I know we get a happy ending, I also know that it can't actually be our future because—" You break off. Your voice is thick in your throat and you don't want to cry.

You feel a heavy hand on your shoulder. "It could still be your future. We're going to get her back."


Leaving Claudia in that cellar is one of the hardest things you have ever had to do.

You offer to stay with her, and then Pete offers, and in the end, she sends all three of you off. From a logical standpoint, it's better this way. The three of you will be able to cover more ground in your remaining time than only two people could, and you don't know whose skills you'll need.

It doesn't feel like the better decision, though. It feels like you're leaving a family member to die alone in the dark.

You'll find the alidade or you'll come back, you tell yourself, like Artie said. Either way, she won't be down here forever.

You're back in the cemetery. Orange and red and brown leaves cover the ground, but you can tell it's the same one as before because most of the headstones around you have inscriptions in Hebrew on them and you can see Moshe Rubenfeld's headstone off to your left.

Your hand rests on Kate's left shoulder, Helena's on her right shoulder. She's wearing a pair of baggy grey sweatpants and the same red Rangeview Marching Band hoodie with the hood up under a black jacket. You can feel through her clothes how thin she is.

The grass on the grave you're standing in front of is sparse, and the headstone looks shiny and new.

Kate kneels down and sets a mason jar on top of it. It's filled with metal flowers with wire stems and petals made of gears that look like they came out of clocks.

"That seems appropriate," Helena comments.

You hear Kate sniffle. "I've been saving them. She told me when I had enough, we'd build something really cool. She never said what."

You roll your eyes. "Probably some sort of wormhole generator or weather machine that had no business being in our basement or within ten miles of our daughter."

"If you want to build a weather machine, all you have to do is ask," Helena adds, a smirk playing across her lips.

You chuckle and wipe away a tear. "She loved you, Kate. You know that, right?"

Kate sighs shakily, and Helena's head snaps toward her. "Are you okay? Do you need to go back to the car?"

"Give me just a minute," she says. She hobbles off toward a bench. You and Helena both watch her until she sits down.

"She had so much left to contribute," you say, turning back toward the grave. "She was supposed to outlive all of us."

"I think you'll find that the people who are supposed to outlive us never do," Helena replies. She falls silent, but you can tell she wants to say something else. You can almost hear her thinking.

"I was there when it happened," she admits without meeting your eye. You take her hand. "It wasn't… it wasn't quick but… she was in no pain. I could never remember she'd been alive fifty years when I looked at her."

You nod. "She didn't look a day over thirty."

"I'd talk to her, and she'd still be that teenager with so much enthusiasm and curiosity and insecurity." Helena shakes her head. "Do you want to know what she said to me? Before she went?"

"Do I?" you ask her.

"She said…" Helena glances over toward Kate. She's still on the bench picking apart a leaf. "She said, 'Take care of that girl. She's going to be the Caretaker one day.'"

Pete is putting you into a little blue taxi when you come back.

"Got to keep your head in the game, Mykes? Okay?"

You groan. "It's not like I can help it."

"I know," he replies. "But we really need you focused on this one. We're not going to figure it out without you."

"I know," you breathe as he slides into the car beside you. You realize it sounds like you're bragging and open your mouth to explain, but Pete is smiling at you.

"I like that confidence. In it to win it. Just another eight hours and this'll all be over."


Your lip is bleeding and your shoulder is dislocated by the time they get you into the police car. You're in nauseating pain, and you can hear the sound of gunfire. You hope Pete and Artie can pull this off and—you clench your jaw and whimper as the car lurches forward—if they don't, you hope they both make it out.

You can't lose Pete too. You wouldn't survive that.

When you feel yourself slipping away to the other timeline, you don't fight it. It's where you'd rather be.

You're in a large, crowded room. There's music playing, a slow song that you've heard before but can't place, and you're revolving slowly.

Helena is in your arms. Her face is nestled against your shoulder, but you know it's her. You recognize the length and texture of the white hair brushing your cheek, the way her jacket fits, the size of the hand on your waist.

A few steps away, you see Kate. Her hair is pulled up in a way that can only have been inspired by Beauty and the Beast. She's dancing with a man with thick black hair and a purple bow tie. They're smiling at each other the way you smiled on your wedding day all those years ago.

You see Leena in a lilac dress that moves like water dancing with Pete, a toddler that you think is Victoria being chased by a smiling woman with a curtain of straight black hair that matches hers and bright red lipstick, Steve standing awkwardly by the buffet eating cheese cubes.

"Look at them," Helena whispers to you. She is facing them now. "Do you suppose we ever looked at each other like that?"

You press a kiss to the side of her head and you feel her sigh.

"I know we did."

You move the hand on her shoulder to the back of her neck and wrap a strand of wispy hair around your finger. You feel her hand fist in your jacket.

If heaven exists, this is it. You and Helena holding each other like this for an eternity.

"Myka, tell me honestly," she says. "Did you ever think we'd make it to this?"

You hesitate before answering. "No."

She exhales. You can tell she was holding her breath. "I didn't either."

You feel tears pressing at the corners of your eyes. You get the feeling this is not the first time you have cried today.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" you ask.

"She's always looked beautiful when she was happy," Helena answers. "I don't think I've ever seen her look more beautiful in my life."

The song is winding down. Helena's hand slides back to your hip as she steps away. "It's nearly time for the mo—"

You see sparks flying over Helena's shoulder, and then the rope drops to the ground, leaving you both rubbing your neck and coughing.

You could kiss her right now, you think for a fleeting second as Helena recovers beside you. It would be so easy to close the foot between you.

But Artie is standing there and you know it's not the time.

"Artie, thank god," you gasp.

"Yes, that was getting rather close," Helena agrees.

"Okay, listen," you say, because Helena just came out of the Janus coin a day ago and Artie looks rather dazed at the moment, not that you can blame him, given the brushes with death you have all experienced since this nightmare with Sykes began. "We have to find Sykes, right? He's probably… Artie, what's wrong?"

"Are you alright?" Helena asks.

"What?" He looks at you for the first time since freeing you. "Yeah… I'm good. Right, you were tied up, and now you're free."

"Artie," you say firmly, because this is not the time for him to suddenly develop short-term memory loss. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," he answers quickly enough for you to know that something is definitely wrong. "Right, uh, yeah… then there's a bomb in Sykes' wheelchair…" He is mumbling to himself, but he turns back to you and repeats, "There's a bomb in Sykes' wheelchair!"

"Why would he have a bomb if—" you begin.

"Because he wants to destroy the Warehouse. He wants to blow it up."

"Yes. Yes, that makes perfect sense," Helena replies. "This is what he's been waiting decades to—how did you know about that?"

"We have to go to isle Rose Scott, 1948. We have to do that right now."

"Why do you always do that," you call as he takes off at a run, but he doesn't answer and you have no choice but to follow.