A/N: Thank you to all my fabulous reviewers. Hope you guys are ready for angst!
Artie sat at his desk, flipping through reports about the damage at the Hoover Dam. The official government agencies still had no idea what had really happened; this intel came courtesy of Claudia and her superior hacking skills. The NSA and the FBI had both separately ruled out terrorism—there had been no explosives of any sort or any kind of security breach.
Instead the authorities were calling it a freak, massive earthquake, a national disaster. Worse, however, was the damage to the Western seaboard's power grid. Southern California and Nevada were almost completely without power. The President had declared it a federal disaster zone and deployed the National Guard, the whole nine yards.
Artie felt a twist of guilt. At the end of the day, this was partially his fault. If only he had seen what was going on before—how had they been so easily tricked? He pushed his reading glasses to the top of his head and sighed, rubbing his eyes.
He was momentarily distracted by the sound of the oculus door hissing open. Looking up, he smiled widely as Vanessa walked in. She looked tired, he thought, as she smiled at him wanly.
Then he noticed her face was a rather strange shade of grey. "Vanessa?" he asked, uncertain.
"I'll be alright in a minute," she wheezed. "Just give me a moment." She stumbled to Myka's desk and sat down precariously.
Artie immediately jumped up and hurried to her. "What happened?" he demanded.
"Nothing, nothing—" she protested weakly.
"Vanessa—" he started, his mind working furiously. He picked up her hand and looked at the back. Sure enough, coming up on the back of her hand like a rash was a distinct mark—a snake curled around a staff.
The mark of Asclepius, triggered by using his artifact.
And there was only one person here who was injured enough for the Bandages.
Artie became so angry that in that second he literally saw red. Vanessa cracked open her eyes and saw from the look on his face that he had put it together.
"Artie—"
"I'm going to kill her, I don't care who tries to stop me." He stood and reached in his jacket for his Tesla. Then he changed his mind and started looking for his tool bag. He was going to need his gun.
"Arthur Nielson!" Vanessa's voice had steel in it. "This wasn't her idea."
"What does it matter?" Artie asked, anguished. "She's killing you!"
"Artie, think clearly." Vanessa ordered. "We need HG Wells. Much more right now than you need me. And I'll be fine. Just give me a minute here."
Artie remained standing, torn. On the one hand, he knew from first hand experience that telling Vanessa to do anything was an exercise in futility.
On the other hand, he was just about done with HG Wells. He wondered briefly, what did Vanessa know about Wells that had given Vanessa so much faith in that damned woman?
He sat back down reluctantly, watching Vanessa anxiously as he stewed. He was still enraged, but he needed to tamp it down. Taking care of Vanessa was far more important to him than dealing with that psychopath.
"We need to get you to the inn," he said finally. "Leena can make you something, soup or whatever." He was at a loss.
Vanessa nodded and he slid an arm under her shoulders and helped her stand, supporting her as they walked out.
It was exactly 4:13 in the morning and Myka Bering was completely unable to sleep.
She thought about when Artie returned to the inn earlier that evening, supporting a rather pale Vanessa. He had taken one look at Myka's face and known that she knew what happened. His face turned red and he looked like he was about to pop. Unable to form full sentences, he simply pointed to the door. "Out!" he barked.
Myka scrambled to obey, feeling slightly miffed that she was being punished for Helena's sins. Still she was grateful. She couldn't face the crowd at the inn. With Claudia, Helena and Tesla holed up in the lab, the inn was full to the rafters with the rest of their rag tag team. She was happy to be given an out.
Pete had called her once she was safely ensconced in the office, telling her with some sympathy that Artie had designated her Helena's babysitter for the night. Myka sighed and went to go make up the guest bed in the Warehouse, the same one that Leena had used only two days ago.
Had it really only been three days since she had woken up in the empty warehouse? Myka wondered, slightly dazed. So much had happened since then, with Helena reemerging in her life like a comet. Or a bomb. She made the bed mechanically and pulled a novel out of her jacket pocket.
Six hours later it was 4:14 in the morning and Myka had given up on the novel. She hadn't read a thing (The novel was distinctly 21st century—Myka was trying to stay away from the 19th century as much as humanly possible, given who was currently three floors below her).
She stood up and stretched. She knew was supposed to be keeping an eye on Helena (what ever the heck that meant) but Claudia could handle it.
Myka wanted to be wherever Helena wasn't—that was what it boiled down to.
If she repeated it enough, it would be true.
She left the guest room and began to walk through the Warehouse, strolling up and down the endless aisles. It was wonderful, a museum, a library, a zoo and an armory all rolled into one glorious package. Endless wonder indeed, Myka thought. The endless wonder was the knowledge contained within this one building—a hundred thousand untold stories leading to a hundred thousand more.
Myka was happy to spend a lifetime here, trying to learn them all. She wandered aimlessly, basking in the silence and the order—every thing had its place, a spot where it belonged. If only people were so simple.
Most people were. Myka could put them in neat boxes—friend, co worker, lover, sister, parent, classmate—and that was that. No surprises, no mistakes, just clear definitions. A check list that let Myka feel comfortable in her own skin. She always knew where she stood.
Helena however, didn't break out of her box as much as she had blown it up.
And now Myka was cleaning up the mess and had no clue where to even begin.
Myka had no word for Helena, no words that could define the inevitable and terrible pull she felt towards the other woman. Helena made her feel things she'd never felt before and it frightened her. Too many emotions all spiraling out of her grasp, defying her effort to put them back in their place. Myka hated feeling out of control. It scared her so much her mind refused to name them, ignoring the ache in her heart.
So absorbed in her thoughts was she that she didn't even notice her treacherous feet had carried her to the lab until she was standing right outside the cracked open double doors. Her view was limited but she could see the back of Helena's head as she sat hunched over a workbench.
She broke out in a cold sweat as Helena's voice carried out through the crack, a visceral reaction.
"Pass me the copper wiring," Helena ordered, her voice precise and focused. Claudia's hand shot into her view with a bunch of wires, then disappeared once more.
Myka stood, transfixed, suddenly and irrationally afraid they would discover her. Claudia's voice rang out again and Myka started.
"HG?"
"Mmm?" The woman hummed.
"You do know it's like four in the morning right?"
"And your point?" Helena asked, distracted by whatever she was rewiring in front of her.
"Don't you need some sleep?"
Helena paused then and turned her head slightly, looking sharply at Claudia, just out of Myka's line of sight.
"No," Helena replied shortly.
"Okay then," Claudia said. Then Myka heard her yawn.
Helena raised an eyebrow. "But you do. Go on Ms. Donovan, your help has been appreciated. I can finish from here."
"Are you sure?" Claudia asked reluctantly, but then she yawned again.
"Perfectly. And you look dead on your feet." Helena's voice was crisp.
For Myka, it registered too late that to exit the lab, Claudia was going to have to open the door. Claudia yanked the door open and jumped in surprise, but remained silent, her eyes wide. Myka frantically gestured at her not to say anything.
"Oh and Claudia?" Helena worked on, oblivious to the pantomime going on behind her.
"Yes?" Claudia squeaked.
Helena still did not turn around as she added. "If you see Myka, tell her…" she trailed off.
Claudia cleared her throat. "Tell her?"
"Never mind. It doesn't matter anyway," Helena muttered, sliding and clicking something metal into place.
Claudia raised an eyebrow at Myka and gestured at Helena, trying to prod Myka into speaking up.
Myka shook her head firmly. She just couldn't. She was so angry and sad and frustrated and confused and Helena amplified it, a hundred times over.
Claudia sighed and walked through the door. Myka followed her in silence back to the office. When the door was shut, Claudia rounded on her.
"I am not going to be the messenger pigeon between the two of you if she ever comes up with something to say."
"I know," Myka said sadly. "We will talk it out. Eventually."
"Really? 'Cause it doesn't look like you're going anywhere fast." Claudia put her hands on her hips, exasperated. "Look, I know it's none of my business, but she's fucking miserable without you. Trust me, I just spent the last eight hours trapped in a lab with her. She's cranky. Crazy and cranky, not a good color on her."
"How is that my fault?" Myka asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's not," Claudia said quickly, reading Myka's face and seeing she was slightly more volatile than her typically level headed self. "But she's stewing in a sea of her own guilt right now and would kill herself to make it right."
"And if there's nothing she can do to fix this?" Myka was not talking about the time travel.
Claudia ran her hands through her hair. "I don't know. But I feel like it won't end well."
Myka bristled. "I'm not going to forgive her just because if I don't she'll go nuts again and try to destroy the world. For the third time."
"That's not what I'm saying either." Claudia sighed. "You need to do what you need to do. But I guess what I'm trying to say is whatever is between you two, you either need to talk about it or you need to let her go. Don't leave her in this half way whatever you guys have been doing for the last year."
Claudia looked her in the eye, deadly serious. "She loves you."
Myka stared through the window, looking down over the Warehouse, letting her friend's words echo inside her head.
"I know," She said at last.
Claudia said nothing more but stepped forward with her arms out. Myka gave her a brief hug. Then Claudia turned and opened the oculus, leaving Myka alone in the office with her own thoughts.
She loves me, she thought in wonder and despair, over and over again, her turbulent emotions tearing away at her.
But was it enough?
Myka had no answer.
Helen looked into Adam's eyes, a small sting of regret at knowing that this was how it was going to end, at the hands of a madman in the streets of London.
She took a deep breath and met his gaze defiantly.
Then she heard the shot.
Death was less painful than she was expecting. She was almost disappointed how easy it was—she didn't feel anything at all.
Then she realized she was still breathing.
Adam looked down at his leg in shock, the blood flowing profusely. They both turned and looked down the dark, crowded street as a figure emerged from the mob.
He was just as her memory had painted him, Helen thought faintly. The gaslights and the light from the building on fire revealed his three-piece suit, bowler hat and neatly trimmed mustache. He was holding a smoking revolver, his eyes dark.
"James," Helen breathed in relief. He must have been out with the constables on a case when he heard the alarms—and of course had come running when help was called for.
James Watson strode to her side, his coat flying out behind him, his revolver still pointed at Adam.
"You!" Adam hissed. He recognized defeat when he saw it. Adam turned and began to run, limping away, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
"Adam Worth!" James called, making a start after the fleeing man.
"James," Helen called, her voice faint. Whereas before she had felt nothing, now she felt as if her very bones were beginning to burn. The world swam before her eyes and she began to see black spots as the earth began to spin rapidly beneath her.
The radiation, she thought. It was time.
She crumpled into James's arms as Adam fled down the street and blended into the gathering crowd, escaping into the dark London night.
"Helen?" James asked, bewildered. "What in the hell?"
A/N: Let me know what you thought!