Chapter fourteen
"We should really get up."
"Mmm," Helena concurred with a soft hum, burrowing her face into the mess of auburn curls in front of her. She ventured even farther forward, snaking her way through the unkempt tresses, until her lips were rewarded with smooth skin. She began to place tiny kisses along soft shoulders, her lips barely moving.
"Helena, I'm serious."
"Mmhmm," she mumbled between kisses, "yes, very serious. Me, too." She tightened her grasp on the warm hip beneath her fingers and closed the already small gap between their bodies. A low, raspy laugh escaped from deep within the chest of her bedmate as the other woman wriggled back against her.
"You're incorrigible," she could hear the smile in Myka's voice.
"I am no such thing," she replied indignantly, hand tracing a path up the curve of Myka's hip before dipping down to rest between her breasts.
"Helena," Myka warned, covering Helena's hand with her own, "we have things we're supposed to finish today, remember?"
She sighed into Myka's shoulder, draping a leg around the other woman's longer ones.
"But, darling," she complained, "you're so warm. And it's dreadfully chilly out there."
"I know," Myka agreed, tugging Helena's palm up to her lips, "but it's important. And you promised me."
"Did I? Are you quite certain?" Helena ran her foot up and down a smooth shin.
"Mmhmm, you definitely did," Myka confirmed between warm kisses along Helena's knuckles, "I have an eidetic memory, you know."
"Ah, yes, I have been made aware of that, love, thank you."
"So, you should probably listen to me," Myka nibbled on the tip of Helena's index finger.
"Darling, I'm very good at following instructions. I thought I proved that to you last night- or was it this morning?" She took the opportunity to run her finger along Myka's bottom lip as she pressed their bodies tighter together.
"Helena," Myka breathed shakily, pulling H.G.'s hand away from her mouth and cradling it under her chin, "we- we have to get up." Helena suddenly began to shiver violently.
"Just a while longer, Myka, please," Helena whispered, "I'm finding it rather difficult to leave you."
"Helena," Myka repeated, more sternly now, "get up." H.G. shook her head into Myka's curls.
"Helena," she said once more, louder now.
"Please, just let me rest here. It's so warm," she begged, squeezing Myka tightly.
"Helena!" the other woman shouted, "Wake up!"
"No," she mumbled.
"H.G.! You have to wake up!" Claudia's voice was shrill as it rang through her head. Helena opened her eyes, gasping.
"Oh, thank god," Claudia voice sounded strained and far away, "you have to help me out of this." Helena lifted her head an inch off the floor for just a moment to see the younger woman straining at the ropes around her wrists. She winced as her skull fell back to the floor with a wet thud. Everything felt cold and terrible; she wanted to be back in bed with Myka.
"H.G.!" Claudia's shout jolted her eyes open once more, "Please, we still have to bronze him. No one can get in here to help us- I need you to stay awake!" Myka had told her to wake up, too. Perhaps it was important.
"Claudia," she rasped, "what happened?"
"You got hurt," she heard Claudia say. And was the girl under water? She could barely understand her.
"But I need you to come here and help me out of this chair, okay?" She continued, "It's really important." Hurt? She lifted her head again and noticed the handle of a knife sticking out from her belly. She raised her hands, they were covered in blood. I don't want to have a knife in me, she thought dumbly, moving her hands toward the handle.
"H.G.! No!" Claudia screamed, "Don't touch that!" She froze.
"Claudia, there's a knife in me," she breathed, "I don't want it."
"I know," the younger woman said, straining violently at her bindings, "but you have to wait, you'll make it worse." She nodded, dropping her hands.
"Will you make it better? Go fetch Myka, I'm certain she'll know what to so," Helena's eyes felt heavy again.
"I can't," Claudia sounded like she was in pain, too, "H.G., it's just you and me and I really need your help."
"Myka will help, don't worry," she mumbled.
"No, H.G., Myka needs you to come over here," Claudia was crying.
"She does? Myka was so sad when I left," Helena shook her head, "I'm quite awful."
"If you don't get over here now, she is going to be even sadder, Helena!" Claudia yelled, her voice cracking. Helena frowned, she didn't want that at all. Well, alright, she thought.
With a little grunt, she blindly felt around on the floor around her. Her bag should be close, she thought, but all she could feel was sticky concrete.
"Your left!" Claudia shouted excitedly, sniffling, "Just a little farther!" Helena reached to her left, her fingertips brushing fabric. Aces. She tugged the bag toward her and unzipped it as quickly as she could.
"What's in there?" She heard Claudia ask the question, but couldn't quite find the energy to respond. She finally felt the cool metal of her grappler beneath her hand.
Inhaling raggedly, she tugged it loose from the bag and switched it to her right hand. Helena steadied herself for a moment before grabbing the handle of the bag with her left hand, raising her head and aiming the grappling gun toward Claudia.
"H.G.?" The young woman asked nervously. Helena didn't respond, but grunted as she pulled the trigger. The hook darted between the legs of Claudia's chair before clanging off of a shelf behind her. It zipped back toward them, catching on the leg of the chair and jerking Helena's body across the slick floor. She screamed in pain as she slammed against Claudia's shins.
"You okay?" The redhead checked, wincing.
"No," Helena panted, reaching into the bag once again. She felt a great deal more awake now that an acute pain was searing through her body. She fumbled around the bag for a moment more before she felt the artifact she had been searching for.
"Ah, thank you, Artie," she whispered to herself, clasping the wooden object, a pulley from the wreckage of the HMS Victory, in both her hands. It supposedly had the power to unknot any rope or cord, but she had never seen it in action.
Acting on instinct, H.G. simply held the wheel of the pulley against a bit of rope she was able to reach. After a few tense moments, one end of the line snaked its way through the pulley and began to create tidy loops on the floor of the Warehouse.
"Yes!" Claudia hissed, wriggling her right arm out of the loosening ties, "H.G., I seriously owe you one."
"Don't mention it," she replied and closed her eyes once again, her earlier burst of energy gone.
"Stay awake," she heard the younger woman command over the sound of rope rushing past her ears.
"I've done as you asked, just let me rest a moment," she sighed. There was no immediate response, so Helena kept her eyes shut and let her body slacken.
"Call an ambulance," Claudia said suddenly. H.G. opened one eye lazily to see who else had arrived. The other woman was almost free, save one leg, and had her cellphone up to her ear. Modern marvels, cellphones are, Helena mused drowsily.
"Yeah, I'm about to take him to the bronzer," Claudia continued, standing up as the end of the rope passed through the pulley, "and I need you guys in here with medical help as soon as that force field drops." The woman jogged toward the stagecoach and Helena heard her drive it next to Paracelsus' limp body.
"It's H.G.," she explained, "she- she was stabbed. Paracelsus stabbed her with the butcher knife. Artie, I think it's bad." Claudia's voice had dropped to just above a whisper, but Helena still managed to hear her.
"I can't talk, I've gotta move him," the other woman's voice was back to a normal level, but it sounded off somehow, "but I'm going to leave the phone with her. Try to keep her awake, okay?"
Claudia was back at Helena's side in an instant. H.G. opened her eyes as the young woman kneeled next to her and smoothed a few sweaty strands of hair away from her face.
"H.G., please stay awake, okay?" Helena managed a small nod in response.
"I'll be right back, I promise, just keep talking to everyone else, okay? Tell them about what a badass you are?" Claudia sniffled through a smile, wiping brusquely at her eyes.
"Is it Myka?" She asked hopefully.
"It's Artie," she replied, switching the call to speakerphone, "Stay awake, H.G." Claudia placed the phone on Helena's chest and pressed a firm kiss to her forehead and then was gone. Helena heard the stagecoach disappear into the Warehouse.
"Helena?" Artie's voice barked out from the phone.
"Hello, Artie," she whispered, "I'm sorry, but I rather don't feel like talking."
"Too bad," he shot back, "tell me what happened."
"Claudia will fill you in, I'm sure," she coughed, wincing, "I just want to rest a bit, I won't fall asleep."
"Yes, you will. Did Paracelsus know you were lying?"
"Arthur, is Myka there?" Helena wondered, her eyes slipping closed, "If I have to have a chat, I'd like it to be with my Myka." There was a pause, only for a few seconds, but long enough that H.G. was starting to drift back to sleep.
"I'm here," Myka's voice was thin.
"Darling," Helena tried to open her eyes, but she couldn't seem to manage it, "there you are."
"Helena, what happened?"
"Are you crying? Is everything alright?" H.G. could hear her words slurring and shook her head thickly in attempt to clear the fog surrounding her.
"I can't-" Myka's voice was moving away.
"Don't go," she sighed, her breath wet and raspy, "I keep losing you, love. I was having the most wonderful dream just now."
"H.G.," Artie's voice was stern, "I need you to focus on staying awake." She heard more sounds that she couldn't quite make out- perhaps it was Claudia returning? If that was the case, surely it wouldn't hurt to take a quick catnap. Just for a moment.
"Helena!" Myka was suddenly screaming through the speaker of the phone, "Please! Please, wake up!"
"Myka," she mumbled, "you're back." She heard more sounds- words, maybe. Maybe not. Her entirely body felt so leaden, she couldn't figure out what was going on. After a few seconds, the sounds faded away completely and Helena felt at peace.
When she opened her eyes once more she had no idea how much time had passed, but it was obvious that her situation had changed completely.
"Are you ready, Ms. Wells?" Mrs. Frederick stood in front of her, arms crossed, and a stern look on her face.
"What?" She felt disoriented and thick. Her wrists were bound above her head- it all felt startlingly familiar. With a gasp, she realized what was happening; she was in the bronzer. Again.
"We don't have all day," Artie commented distractedly as he punched commands into the computer station a few yards away.
"What? I don't- what happened?" She struggled against her shackles, shaking her head dumbly.
"It's time to go back where you belong," Mrs. Frederick replied with a sigh, "You've wasted far too much of our time and resources."
"No," she whispered, "you all told me that I belong here. What has changed?"
"Helena, honestly, we're sick of cleaning up your messes," Mrs. Frederick gestured to the floor. H.G. finally noticed the pool of blood growing around her feet and the knife that was still jutting out from her stomach.
"Oh," she nodded in agreement, "yes, I see. Well, is everyone alright at least? Claudia? Myka?"
"Jesus, Helena, I am so sick of your shit!" Artie snapped, walking closer with a grim expression.
"What? Artie, I-" Helena began, eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Just fucking stop trying to play God!" He shouted at her, his hands clenching at his sides.
"You think- you think that's what I'm doing?" H.G. asked with wonder.
"It's what you've always done," he spat, gesturing vaguely behind himself, "or, at least, tried to."
It was only then that Helena noticed that there were other people standing amongst the bronze statues. One of them began to emerge from the shadows.
"Claudia," she gasped in horror. The young woman's skin was utterly pallid, creating a striking contrast with the deep crimson blood that openly flowed from slashes on her neck and wrists. She stood a few paces in front of the bronzer and stared at Helena in disgust.
"What happened? I thought you took care of Paracelsus?" H.G. shook her head in disbelief.
"Almost," she nodded, "but he woke up before I could bronze him. If you had helped me out of the chair quicker I would've been fine, but you stayed inside that selfish dream of yours for too long. As if Myka would ever be happy with someone like you." Claudia scoffed cruelly before continuing.
"Paracelsus easily got the upper hand on me. He drained my blood. Slowly. So, thanks for the help, H.G.," the young woman finished sarcastically, before turning to leave.
"Claudia, wait," Helena called out lamely, "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry?" Myka had appeared in front of her in the blink of an eye, "You're always sorry about something. Doesn't really change anything though, does it?" Her normally vibrant Myka was in a wheelchair, emaciated and ashen.
"No," she whispered, "I saved you."
"Oh, right," Myka nodded, the silk scarf that was wrapped around her bald head rippling with the movement, "the famous H.G. Wells- such a hero. Spare me. Did you ever think that maybe we should have checked to make sure your brilliant plan worked before you rushed off?"
"I had to help Claudia," Helena pleaded quietly.
"Yeah, and look how great that turned out. You're so pathetic," there was venom in Myka's words.
"Darling, please don't do this, I love you," tears were streaming down H.G.'s cheeks.
"You don't love me- you're not capable of it. The only person you love is yourself," Myka sighed.
"That's not true," Helena closed her eyes and shook her head, "It's not. It's not."
"Mummy," a voice that had been silenced over a century ago rang through her head.
"Oh, God," she screwed her eyelids shut tighter, "Christina."
"Why didn't you stop the bad men?" Helena opened her eyes to see her daughter, maimed and broken, standing next to Myka's wheelchair.
"Christina," she sobbed.
"They hurt me, Mummy, they hurt me so much. I cried and I cried and you didn't help me," the little girl insisted. Myka reached out to grab one of her small hands.
"That's because your mummy didn't love you. She wasn't a very good mother, was she?" Myka asked with a sympathetic face.
"No, she wasn't at all," Christina agreed, "It hurt so terribly, Miss Bering, and she let them do it."
"I know, sweetheart," Myka cooed, "but she's going someplace where she can't hurt anyone as badly as she hurt us ever again." Helena began to scream and thrash savagely against the shackles.
"Christina," Artie called from the computer, "would you like to press the button?"
"Oh, yes!" Christina answered excitedly, skipping over to him, "Thank you, sir!"
"No," Helena walied, "Please no!"
"Okay, kiddo, just hit this button and you'll never have to see your sorry excuse for a mother again," Artie gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Brilliant," she giggled, slapping her hand on the button without hesitation. Helena's animalistic cries became muted as the chamber doors shut in front of her. The last thing she saw was Myka's pitiless stare, the once vibrant green eyes now sunken and cold as the woman's mouth twisted into a sneer.
Notes: Apologies if this chapter was too strange, but I think it was necessary and hopefully won't seem so over-the-top after you read the next chapter. Thanks, as always, for taking the time to read. We're starting to approach an end, I think. :)