Disclaimer: I don't own anything or ever want to own anything related to Warehouse 13 or make any profit as a result of its production. It has provided a platform for the creation and development of my personal world. For that I say thank you.

A/N: Thank you for all comments and reviews. They are always appreciated and considered. Keep crying, keep laughing. Without one, you can't have the other.

"You shouldn't be here, Ms. Wells. It's not time for our game yet. You belong in Warehouse 13. Your work here is done. You weren't supposed to stay. There was always a plan for you. You're destiny has been fulfilled." The man sat before the chess board.

Helena looked around her. Warehouse 12. "Caturanga? What am I doing here? Where is Myka?"

"Now, that is a puzzle, isn't it?" He laughed.

"Mummy?" The girl stepped from behind the laughing man, her hands resting on his shoulders.

Helena fell to her knees. "Christina?"

"Yes, Mummy. Why are you here? Where are Grace and Thomas?" The girl attempted to approach, but stopped short in confusion.

"I'm sorry, darling. I don't know who they are." She tried to entice the girl into her arms.

"You don't belong here. It's not your home. You must go." The girl backed away quickly. "Your future has been sealed." The girl wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"What? I don't understand." She implored of the retreating child.

"She is correct, Ms. Wells. You belong to 13 now. The queen must come back into play. Remember, she is the most powerful of all. Do not lose her."

"I don't understand!"

They were gone and she found herself standing in the middle of a stage. A giant chess piece stood beside her. A white queen made of marble. Solid and unmarred, it stood tall and strong, a warmth radiating from its core. She tried to look beyond the bright lights. She turned to look at the queen, seeking its warmth and strength. It was gone.

She looked down to see the floor was a marble chess board. A steel table sat in the middle, the floor littered with chess pieces; some standing, some lying haphazardly on their sides. Myka stood at the head of the table, tears falling unheeded. Helena tried to call out to her, but found she couldn't speak.

The brotherhood looked upon the table. One stepped forward and turned to her.

"A seal can always be broken." She heard faintly.

Blackness surrounded her.

"You idiotic buffoon! Consider yourself a very lucky man right now, because when this is over you are going to regret you ever stepped into this room."

"The protocol made absolutely no sense. Her labs were perfect. There was nothing in that protocol you handed me that was remotely sensible." He sat at the front of the table, closely watching the monitors defending himself.

"That protocol was developed on past history. You've gotten complacent, George. You know better than to just change things. Your mistake was not changing the protocol; it was not asking me about it when it didn't make sense. Did you read the history first? I've been through two surgeries with her already and that so called nonsensical protocol was created specifically for her based on previous anomalies that occurred during the first of those procedures. Thanks to you, I have to tell a very good friend that she died today. If I were you, I wouldn't be standing there feeling happy you helped bring her back either. I'm not convinced you had anything to do with that."

"Dr. Calder, perhaps now would be a good time for you to step out so I can finish my job here and Dr. Reynolds can finish her job with your request. I think the danger is over and our friend is now more familiar with the special anesthetic requirements of our patient. I've already been dragged away from my Thanksgiving holiday, and I'd like to get home sooner than later. Wouldn't you, Dr. Reynolds?"

"My cat would be happy about that," The woman leaning over her meticulous work responded without looking up.

"Ronald…" Vanessa gave him a cold look.

"Vanessa." Dr. Jordan looked up at her from his work with soft eyes. "Please?"

She looked at the faces of the doctors looking at her, the other surgical staff members quickly looking away, the tension palpable in the room. The silence in the room was only interrupted by the sound of monitors and the passing of instruments with soft requests.

"I'll be outside," she said softly.

"Of course. I'm almost done. Dr. Reynolds, how long for that shoulder?" His hands held still over his work, not taking his eyes off of Vanessa.

"Twenty minutes tops!" the young woman spoke cheerily. "Then she's ready to rock and roll."

Vanessa wondered exactly how old the surgeon was. One of the best in the field Mr. Kosan promised.

"I think there has been enough rocking and rolling," Vanessa grumbled under her breath tearing her mask off as she left the room.

Myka shot straight up at the sound of the alarm clock.

Pete was suddenly sitting beside her, damp from his shower, a firm calming hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you're okay, Mykes. It's just the alarm clock. I forgot to turn it off. You were snoring, so I let you sleep. You had a pretty rough night and really pointy elbows."

"I don't snore," she answered defensively, shaking his hand off.

"Uh, yeah, you do. At least you were this morning." He gave her stiff smile. "Do yourself a favor and don't look in a mirror. Just go directly to 'go' and get in the shower. Sleeping with wet hair is not a good thing for you. At least it's not blonde this time." He chuckled.

"Ha, ha. And where's Artie's toothbrush?" She stuck her tongue out at him, pulling the covers up to her chin against the chill in the room.

"Oh, geez. Don't even ask. I don't want to know."

She ran her hands through her snarled hair. "I feel like crap."

"Not a big surprise. Want to talk about it?"

"No. It was just a nightmare," she brushed him off.

"She's fine, Myka. You know how she is. She's HG." He lightly punched her in the shoulder.

"And she left me, Pete! Again. She just took off and left me without any explanation. Just some lame comment about me being her priority. I'm tired of it. I thought we left all that behind. I don't even know where she is. Again. Arrgh! When will it stop? When will we ever get to just be us? When will she stop leaving me?!"

"I don't know, Mykes," he said softly. "It's kind of that white knight thing of hers. She's always going to try to protect you. You know that. It's never been an easy road for you two. Did you really expect it to be? For starters, she was born over a century before you were. Look how it all began."

"Yeah, hanging from her stupid ceiling." Myka dropped to the side on the bed, clutching a pillow to her chest.

Pete chuckled making her glare at him.

"Well, you have to admit, it is kind of funny. You guys are not exactly a normal couple. Don't look at me like that. You know I'm right and it is funny."

"Her being who knows where, supposedly having surgery, is not funny. I want to be there with her, damn it!" She sat up again, punching the pillow. Punching the pillow again she added weakly, "She hates hospitals."

"Yeah, well, sometimes it doesn't work out that way. Maybe you just need to let it go for now." He got up from the bed before he became her target instead of the pillow.

"What!?"

"What else are you going to do?" He shrugged, grabbing a sweatshirt out of his messy closet. "Look, Claudia has been dealing with some warehouse stuff and I think you can help her with it. I have to take Steve Christmas shopping before Artie gets back. Take a shower, find Claud, and we'll all figure this out together. Left-overs tonight. We'll have another Thanksgiving dinner now that you're home. You are home, right?"

"I don't know, Pete. My home is Helena and I don't know where she is."

"I know," he said quietly, squatting in front of her. "Let's just take it one step at a time. Wells and Bering will be back together again. That much I know."

"Bering and Wells! What makes you so sure, anyway?"

"Call it a vibe. Now go take a shower. You're really scary looking right now with your hair all kind of, you know…" He jogged his hands around his head. "Just go."

Myka got up and headed for the door, her feet instantly turning to ice on the cold floor.

"Hey, Mykes?" Pete asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" She harrumphed in annoyance.

He rubbed his freshly shaven face. "You sure you don't have the freak going on? 'Cause last night…"

She froze with her hand on the door knob, her head down. Her eyes followed the grain of the wood up the door, her heart reaching out. "There's nothing, Pete. It was just a bad dream." She spoke quietly and opened the door abruptly, slamming it behind her.

"When did all of this start, again?" Myka looked at the so-called disturbance in front of her. The dark cloud had dissipated to a quiet rumble with an occasional charge of static. The rest of the warehouse remained untouched. Claudia had filled her in over breakfast after the guys left. The fact that it affected no other part of the warehouse intrigued her as much as its development. No one could deny she and Helena were somehow connected to the mess.

They sat on the floor staring at the cloud overhead. Myka rested her chin on her knees while Claudia sat cross-legged like she had become accustomed to thinking over the situation over the past weeks.

"Best I can figure, from all you've told me, around the time you two started to lose the whatever you call it. It fluctuates from a moderate overhang to...well, like Steve said, mini-tornadoes. That was Thanksgiving. The day you two physically separated. It's definitely connected to your emotions and all. This is the closest I've been able to get in a while. Probably because you're here."

"How exactly did you break in again?" Myka turned her head resting her cheek on her knees, smiling slightly.

"It was really easy, actually. I thought she'd make it a lot harder. The final code was your birthday. How cliché is that?" Claudia laughed then stopped abruptly, jaw dropping as the realization hit her.

Myka's smile spread with amusement over the changing expressions on Claudia's face. Claudia turned to stare at her amused friend, glaring at her as the realization smacked her ego down like a rolled newspaper on a fly.

"Uh, yeah. So, I feel really stupid right now. She made it easy on purpose, didn't she?"

"Sorry, Claud." She laughed. "She wanted to make sure someone could get in if they needed to. There was no guarantee it would be you. So, yeah, she made it easy on purpose. Good guess on the birthday, though." Myka bumped her shoulder against the younger woman, harder than intended, almost pushing her over.

"But why put a lock on it at all, then? Why not just leave it like it was?"

"What would be..."

"The fun in that." Claudia finished lamely. "Still. Man, that's just plain mean."

"She did it because she could. It's symbolic more than anything. It's her stuff, but nothing she has any real concern over. It's either a past she's forgotten or let go of, or just stuff she really doesn't care much about. Trust me. Anything she does value you'd probably have a tough time getting into. And yes, I know where and how and it will stay that way. And I'll probably still need your help if it ever comes to that."

"Mrs. F. said your stuff is in there too. Did you know that?"

"Really?" Myka's face scrunched up in disbelief as she looked into the mass of crates and boxes. "Huh. Guess Mr. Kosan took that whole 'her stuff is mine' speech seriously."

"Yeah. Anything you left to be stored. Yours and hers. Mrs. F. figures neither of you probably really remember all that's in there. That's why Steve and I couldn't figure out anything from the inventory list and took the liberty of breaking in. That list is all pre-bronze. It doesn't even have the stuff she had brought over from London on it when you guys moved into the cottage. This brings me to another topic…"

"What?"

"The cottage?" Claudia leaned back on her arms looking straight ahead, ignoring the inquiring eyes looking directly at her.

"What about it? I'm not staying there. I'm here until she's back and that whole mess is cleaned up. I'm happy in my old room."

"Okay. Then I'll just leave that for lat…"

"Tell me, Claudia."

"It's not so much a cottage as a…uh…well…"

"Claudia…"

"Okay. They did a little remodeling when you moved out and it's more of a house now."

"So?"

"Well, you know…"

"No, Claudia, I don't know. What are you trying to say?"

"Just…" She sighed and rushed on quickly. "Okay, fine. I found out this morning all your stuff is arriving tomorrow and they're moving it all in there, 'cause the Atlanta thing is done and no one knows where you are going, and you asked about your job and…Maybe?"

"Ah-haa. Sooo, you think I'm going to stay."

"Don't you mean 'we'?"

"If she ever comes back. At least she said good-bye this time," Myka trailed off.

"Hey. No talking like that! She's fine and she will. Sooo, back to this mess." She waved at the section in front of them. "What are you going to do about it?"

"ME?" Myka sat straight up, daring the cloud to get bigger.

"Well, you're causing it, or it's causing you or whatever. And Artie is getting really annoying and Mrs. F. couldn't be any vaguer. Well, I guess she could, but she said help was on its way and I think that's you. HG would be nice too, but you're all I got."

"Gee, thanks, Claud. First you want me to move back into a house in the back and next I'm second fiddle."

"Not second fiddle, just not the package deal. The two of you have always been kind of one. I have a theory on that, but I'm not saying so don't ask."

"Okay. I won't ask. I've got enough to worry about." Myka stood abruptly, wiping the dust off her hands on her thighs.

"Where you going?" Claudia asked scrambling up off the floor after her.

"Inside. Where else? Gotta start somewhere. It might as well be in the eye of the storm. Besides, it's not like I have anything better to do right now. I can't exactly go for a walk down Main Street, Univille." She leaned over whispering in Claudia's ear. "You never know, someone might just kidnap me."

"That's not funny, Myka. She was serious about that or she wouldn't have agreed to you being here."

"Well, she could have asked for my opinion first. And, it's true. I'm trapped in the warehouse, so I might as well start digging through all that and start looking for what else is trapped. Well, come on, you started this trip." She nodded her head to the section.

"I don't know if she'll let me in." Claudia shrugged, looking around suspiciously, expecting some sort of answer.

Myka stood straight, arms crossed in front of her. "Don't know until you try, and my gut says as long as you're with me, you're okay." She started towards section filled with crates on the other side of the open gate.

Claudia got up and tentatively took a few steps following Myka through the gate, anticipating the first zap. Nothing happened.

"What's with all the mess?" Myka spun around wide-eyed at the open crates, packing material strewn around the floor and wooden tops left standing against the crates.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." She kicked some of the material in front of her away. "Steve and I never got a chance to close up what we did get through. It was weird though, 'cause everything just stopped when we were in here. Then it started up again and she wouldn't let us in later to clean it up. You two must have been fighting or well, you know...something."

"Or something?" Myka narrowed her eyes staring directly at Claudia again. "Doubtful," she mumbled. "When did it stop?" Myka cocked her head.

"Uhm, let me think." Claudia looked up to the ceiling in thought, only to be met by the thickness of the cloud. "Steve and I came in here…Sometime before you called Pete at 4 am. What was up with that anyway? Oh, yeah, Mr. Fabio…never mind. I don't know Myka. It's been really erratic." Claudia was getting frustrated with the timeline questions.

"Just like us. Doesn't matter. If I had to take a guess it was probably around the time she walked out. We broke apart. It may have been the final act that broke the tie to the warehouse you were talking about." She stopped in front of one of the crates deep in thought. It was part of one of Helena's many inventions. "Go get the hammer and a marker. We can start with what you guys did do and mark stuff as we go along. I'm going to take a look 'round and see if anything sticks out." Myka started kicking the material on the floor now, hands on hips, thinking to the 'shwish' of the stuff sliding across the floor.

"Uh, yeah. Okay. You sure I won't get zapped coming back? It's not as exciting as some make it out to be."

"Really, I think it's okay if I'm here. She's been pretty temperamental, huh?" Claudia looked at her strangely. "Your warehouse," Myka clarified.

"Yeah. I'll go get that stuff, but if I get zapped," she pointed a finger directly at Myka's chest, "You owe me a plate of chocolate-chip cookies."

"That's Artie's and Helena's specialty," she reminded the young woman morosely. "I still can't figure out what she does to them. I'll make you peanut butter with chocolate kisses in the middle."

"Whatever. I'm just saying…"

Myka wandered around the crates and further into the newer boxes, reading the few labels written on them. Some only identified with 'H.G. Wells' on the sides giving no indication to the contents. She smiled when she fell over a small crate labeled 'Christmas'.

"Hey, Myka. Where are you?" Claudia called.

"I'm down here." She crouched down looking at the box more carefully.

"Did you find something?" Claudia asked, finding her on her knees running her hand across the top of the crate.

"No. Not really. I never knew she had any Christmas stuff. She's always been gone. This would have been our first Christmas together," she said sadly. "Think about it. That box is probably an antique dealers dream."

"Dude, it's not Christmas yet, and that's bad juju to talk like that."

"Whatever," Myka responded blank faced. "How come all the old stuff comes first and the new stuff is back here? That doesn't make sense." Myka looked back and forth, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Have you seen the size of some of these crates? Easier to keep piling all of your crap back there. Where is your stuff?" Claudia looked further in, taking a few steps.

"I don't know. Can't be too important if I didn't know it's here." Myka shrugged, noncommittal. "Guess I didn't need it. Your stuff becomes less important when you start creating our stuff." She let out a big breath. "Let's take care of the mess first." Myka motioned towards the mess by the gate.

They started towards the crates Claudia and Steve had gone through until Myka stopped short, Claudia slamming hard into her back and nearly knocking them both to the ground.

"Geez, Myka, give some warning will you. I think I just broke my nose," Claudia complained against the hard shoulders. "Myka?"

She looked in the direction Myka was staring, softly rubbing her stinging nose. "Do you want to open it?"

"Yes, I mean, no." Myka walked up to the crate with great reverence, caressing the top. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. She just doesn't talk about it a lot and I never push."

"Let's open it then." Claudia took the hammer starting to pry open the top. Myka grabbed her arm quickly, stopping her.

"No. It's not for us to open. Some things are just not meant to be intruded upon. Christina's stuff isn't mine. That crate is for Helena to open, and Helena alone. Come on."

"Aren't you even curious?" Claudia complained.

"Of course I am, but I already live with a ghost whether I want to or not. I don't need to open one up as well."

"What if it's the cause?" Claudia leaned against the crate, patting the side with her hand.

"I don't think it is. If it is, than it's only part of it and honestly, I don't think I'm the solution. I think Helena and I are the solution. It's us. Not me. Not her It's us. You said it yourself. Now let's close up and mark those boxes and see what else we find. That crate remains unopened."

"Okay," Claudia relented dejectedly. She hammered the two nails back down that she had loosened. The cloud above darkened. She looked at Myka with raised eyebrows. "Still sure that's not part of the problem?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it is, but until Helena decides to face it, that crate stays closed. Only she can decide when to talk about it. I've tried."

"Talk about what?" Claudia asked curiously.

"None of your business," Myka snapped walking away from the crate in deep thought.

"Myka?" Helena croaked, seeing the shadowed figure in the corner. It startled slightly, got up and came into view, sitting in the chair closer to the bed.

"No. It's just me, Helena. She's not here, remember? I'm the best you get unless you want what's his name."

"Bloody Hell," she swore at the pain radiating through her left arm as she tried pushing herself up on the bed.

"I wouldn't recommend that." Vanessa wrapped her arm around her torso and helped her sit up, adjusting the bed.

"No, I don't want that ass. I want Myka." She swore at the ceiling remembering the circumstances of her being there alone now. "So tell me, am I going to live? If this headache is any indication I hope not."

"That's really not a funny question, Helena." Vanessa laughed nervously sitting back down.

"Why is my arm bandaged?" Helena laid her head back with a tired sigh.

"Consider it a belated gift. You'll find that ugly scar reduced to a fine line soon and it should fade away to almost nothing in time. I asked them to take care of the one on your shoulder, too. I know you don't complain, but I've noticed the irritation."

"Well, that explains why it stings." Helena closed her eyes. "It appears a thank you is in order. It was becoming a nuisance. Myka will have to make do without it."

Vanessa asked starting to examine her patient, shaking her head and chuckling. "I'm sure Myka won't have any complaints and will have no difficulty without its guidance. How else do you feel?"

"Miserable of course, but we both know I've been worse. I wish Myka were here."

Vanessa laughed nervously again, pulling out her stethoscope. Finishing her exam she sat back down.

"So do I. Then I'd only have to go through this once and you're not the one that scares me."

"Through what? It doesn't look like I lost a hand." Helena gave a weak smile.

"No. Actually, Dr. Jordan believes that the surgery was very successful, and the nerves will reconnect well. With a little PT he's guessing at least an 80% recovery, probably more."

"Well then, so far this whole masquerade seems in my favor. What have you not told me yet? I'm infertile?"

"I doubt that. That remains another discussion for later. I don't have everything back regarding that situation." Her smile remained short-lived and she took a deep breath. "Helena, based on your previous history we developed an anesthetic protocol for you. That protocol was ignored without my knowledge and to put it bluntly you died on that table. It took us almost five minutes to get you back."

Helena looked at her blankly, trying to comprehend what Vanessa had just told her. "So, it seems I've come back from the dead a second time. Lovely. Third time must be the charm. I rather preferred the first time when it didn't actually happen. Of course, that remains somewhat of a confusing paradox to me."

"Helena, Myka will want an update when I get back. I need you to decide how much you want me to tell her."

"I see. Well, it's a good thing I'm alive, isn't it? I don't think you'd have stood much of a chance against her." A faint smile made it to her face in jest.

"Oh, don't I know it. I don't think any of them would let me out of there alive. I'd probably be found years later somewhere deep in the recesses of that warehouse." Vanessa smiled back. "I'm also anticipating a resurgence of your nightmares in epic proportions again, so I'm medicating you early this time. I don't like that Myka isn't here and I don't really trust what's his name out there to handle them well."

"We'll be alright. To be honest, he's handled them well enough on his own before, though admittedly not nearly as well as Myka. I'll be fine."

Vanessa raised her eyebrows in question, but didn't ask. She looked through the door seeing the hovering shadow beyond. "He's outside the door. I've told him he stays there for now. There hasn't been any news from the outside. I'll be leaving as soon as you've recovered enough to leave. I've said at least 24 hours. I'm let you get some sleep." She started to get up.

"Vanessa?" Helena reached for her hand, cringing at the pain in her forearm, stubbornly ignoring it.

"Hmm?" Vanessa stopped halfway out of the chair, grasping the proffered hand.

"You are as much a part of my family as anyone. Would you please stay with me awhile longer?" Helena's tired eyes pleaded.

The doctor sat back down, relaxing as best she could in the uncomfortable chair, and smiled at the closing eyes, holding the hand in her own. "Of course. I'd like that. For as long as you want. Now get some sleep. Doctor's orders."