Helena took a seat at the bar and checked her phone, more than a little disappointed to discover she had imagined it vibrating, there were no new messages. Hunnigan had spoken with her the entire drive to New York and after she'd ended the call, Helena had realized just how damn quiet it was in her apartment, so she'd decided to head out to her favorite bar after checking to make sure it was open on Christmas day.
"Helena Fucking Harper, what are you doing here on a day like this?" the bartendress asked and Helena smirked.
"Jane Fucking Palmer, I'm here ordering a drink," she said and the bartendress was already mixing it, remembering Helena's go-to drink by heart.
"I take it you two know each other," a male voice commented and Helena turned to look to her side. "Or then you're just incredibly rude to each other for no reason," Leon added as he took a seat on the barstool next to Helena and ordered a whiskey, neat.
"We served together, she saved my life in Afghanistan," Jane said and served Leon his drink.
"I was only doing my job."
"What happened?" Leon asked and Helena sighed a little as Jane told the story. From her point of view, it sounded like Helena was a hero. From Helena's point of view, she was not. She hated being considered larger than life only for doing duty. Besides, she hadn't saved everyone. She hadn't saved Maxima.
"We were supporting a team that was hunting some high priority targets and our vehicle hit an IED, and before anyone knew what the hell was happening, we were being pelted with rockets and bullets, and this one carries me and three others to cover and patches us up so we don't just die while waiting for backup."
"It was nothing, besides, you didn't even weigh anything with your leg blown off," Helena smirked and Jane guffawed.
"I didn't know you served. Thank you f-" Leon said began to say and Helena groaned loudly.
"Yes, yes, you're welcome for my service," she sighed and downed the shot Jane had poured her.
"Most of us don't actually like it when people say that," Jane whispered loudly and refilled Helena's glass, only to need to do it again a few seconds later after Helena greedily emptied it. She wanted to skip right to the passing out in a pool of vomit-part.
"Sorry."
"It's fine, I know you and everyone saying it mean well," Helena said.
"You wanna get a table and sit with me?" Leon asked and Helena narrowed her eyes at him.
"If you're thinking of hitting on me, now is really not the time."
"I wasn't, I was just asking if you wanted to sit with me so neither of us has to look like the losers we are, getting drunk alone on a Christmas day," he chuckled.
"All right. Jane, can we get a couple of Zombie Punches. Supersize 'em and put them on his tab," she then smirked and Leon scoffed amusedly.
"Zombie punch, really?" he asked.
"It's got all kinds of tasty goodness and a ton of rum, and it's served in a vase, you'll love it," she assured him.
"Well, the serving size certainly has my attention," he laughed.
"Why are you here?"
"Same as you, to get drunk."
"I would've imagined you'd have somewhere else to be," Helena frowned a little. He informed her that Sherry was with Claire and Chris, and they'd travelled to spend the holidays with Barry Burton and his family.
"They did invite me to go with them, but I didn't want to because I already know I would've messed up their Christmas too, so I rather stuck with my own tradition, which is to get drunk and spend quality time alone," he said, then turned his attention to Jane when she served him the cocktail which came in a large copper vase, like Helena had said it would.
"Wow, I'm gonna have to remember this drink so I can order it again," he commented after taking a taste.
"I'm sure you'll remember," Helena grinned as she slid down from the barstool and went to sit at a table with Leon, not telling him she was sure he'd remember when he'd get his credit card statement and realize the cocktail in question cost over sixty dollars if supersized.
"So, why are you here?" he then asked her as he took a seat across from her.
"I wasn't invited to go anywh... well, okay, technically, I was kind of invited somewhere," Helena corrected herself when she recalled Hunnigan having threatened to take her with her to New York, "but it would've been awkward so I decided to stay home and get drunk. It's my tradition too," she said.
"Listen... I've been around long enough to notice when people aren't okay and frankly, you don't seem okay. Plus, I know a thing or two about what it's like when one moment you're thrilled to be alive and the next you're sort of disappointed that you're alive," he said and Helena quirked an eyebrow.
"I seem disappointed to be alive?"
"No, but like... when the investigation was over and you didn't get the death penalty, you seemed relieved, but recently, you've seemed a bit down, and I just thought..." he trailed off and shrugged one shoulder a little.
Truthfully, he wasn't wrong, not completely. Helena had been relieved... but that had been before the charges against her had been dismissed. She'd been relieved when she'd thought she would be given the lethal injection which she believed was the default punishment when it came to dealing with people who were pretty much single-handedly responsible for the President's death. She'd wanted the death penalty. She'd finished her mission, Simmons was dead, Deborah was avenged, there was nothing left to do, it should've been the end of her story.
But then, Hunnigan had happened, just like she'd happened last night. Helena wasn't sure if she should consider Hunnigan her personal savior or a goddess of torture and punishment sent to ensure Helena wouldn't be given the easy exit she wanted.
"I almost killed myself yesterday," Helena said frankly and Leon paused for a few seconds, swallowed the drink in his mouth and cleared his throat, and Helena could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of something to say. She spoke again before he did, offering him a little more time to think, although she wasn't sure what she was expecting him to say, or if she wanted him to say anything in the first place.
"I literally had my gun in my mouth, and I was already pulling the trigger when Hunnigan showed up," she said and continued to explain the whole situation and what had happened later that night and today (leaving out the embarrassing part about the breast milk in her coffee).
"And now I'm torn between feeling grateful for everything she's done and angry because I didn't ask her to come over here, but she did and now it's on me that her parents are pissed off and she couldn't be there with son this morning."
"Sounds like she really cares about you, what a bitch," Leon commented sarcastically and took a long sip of his drink, sucking on the straw hard enough to dent his cheeks.
"You know I didn't mean it like that."
"I know. Listen... I've been there. After Raccoon City, I was determined to take down Umbrella and I was thrilled to have survived, but that feeling and that bravado faded a lot faster than I would've imagined. I started realizing how shitty things are when a pharmaceutical company can run an entire city and use its people as human guinea pigs without their consent, and no one bats an eye. The corruption of it all and the feeling of helplessness when I thought of how little I can do alone sent me spiraling," he shared and shook his head a little before leaning to take another long sip of his drink.
"What did you do?" Helena asked quietly.
"Put my gun to my head. Like you, I was already pulling the trigger, but then I thought... what would that accomplish? I'd be the coward who gave up. I'd be abandoning Sherry. She was just a kid, she'd..." he paused to swallow hard and take a few deep breaths as he struggled to keep the stoic mask on and hide the fact that he was about to cry when he though back on it all.
"She'd gotten infected, she'd lost her parents, Claire had ran off too, and now after all that, Sherry was practically held hostage and experimented on by our own government, I couldn't just leave her. Even if I didn't do much good in the end, at least I was there... until I wasn't," Leon mumbled and took another drink, deciding to leave the straw out and drink straight from the vase instead.
"It turned out okay this way, I suppose... even if it doesn't always really feel like it," he said and took another drink.
"What do you do when the pain comes back and starts getting overwhelming?" Helena muttered.
"The one thing anyone would tell you not to do, I get drunk," Leon offered a rueful smile.
"You sound drunk," Hunnigan commented when she finally had a chance to call Helena again. It was past midnight and everyone else had gone to bed, Hunnigan had the living room to herself.
"So do you," Helena countered and Hunnigan chuckled as she poured herself a glass of her father's scotch, leaned back against the couch's armrest and raised her feet onto the cushions.
"It's because I am getting there," Hunnigan admitted. "Believe me, after the day I've had, I need this."
"That bad, huh? At least your mother didn't murder you."
"Oh, I tell you what, she tried. There was a lot of yelling."
"Yelling doesn't kill you."
"You haven't been yelled at by my mother," Hunnigan laughed softly, twirled the drink in the glass for a moment and took a sip.
"I'm sorry, Hunnigan. I'm the reason you got in all sorts of trouble."
"You don't have to apologize. Coming to check up on you was totally worth getting yelled at. Besides, it's not like I didn't get something out of it."
"And what's that?" Helena questioned.
"A hearty laugh when you drank that breast milk latte."
"You promised you wouldn't speak of it again!"
"I promised not to tell anyone else, I didn't say I wouldn't tease you about it when it's just you and I," Hunnigan laughed quietly and Helena scoffed.
"Yeah, yeah, a part of you is now inside me, stored in my colon forever, probably. Does that make you happy?" she drawled.
"Well, when you put it like that it just sounds nasty," Hunnigan said and poured herself another drink. "So, how are you feeling?" she then asked. Helena sighed deeply on the other end of the call and Hunnigan could imagine her rolling her eyes.
"I'm fine, considering. I don't feel like talking about it."
"Perhaps you don't, but you can't deny you need help."
"You're my support agent, so support," Helena chuckled, and Hunnigan did too before informing her that her attempt at dismissing the issue would not work.
"I'm not really the type who shares in a circle."
"I know, but it doesn't change anything, the fact still remains that you need professional help. You can keep stubbornly putting it off, but you shouldn't. There's no shame in it and frankly, you'll feel better once you get started. Don't you want to feel better?"
"Of course I do. And I know you're right, but it's... difficult to get started, you know?" Helena muttered and Hunnigan exhaled deeply. She took a swallow of the scotch.
"I know. Believe me, I know," she said quietly.
"Hunnigan?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm kind of tired, but I don't want to hang up because I know that the moment I do, I won't be able to sleep anyway because it's too quiet. Can you... um... could you wait until I fall asleep before hanging up?" Helena requested.
"Sure," Hunnigan said and finished her drink, deciding against pouring another.
"I appreciate it."
"Want me to keep talking or...?"
"I would like that. It would be less awkward, I guess," Helena chuckled a little and yawned, the sound of her bedsheets and blanket swishing clearly audible as she moved, a light scratching sound following as Helena adjusted the cord and the earpiece after getting to bed.
"Once upon a time, a young woman named Amanda Cousland travelled to a fortress known as Ostagar to join king Cailan in his fight against darkspawn that were threatening to overwhelm the kingdom..."