Disclaimer: I have no idea what I'm doing

AN: LOOOONG chapter, very action packed fast paced chapter butWARNING: lots of swear words in this chapter.

Chapter Thirty-Four: Malevolent Chaos

Never before had Helena seen the high way so deserted. But she supposed that was the point at two in the morning. She found herself looking into the rearview mirror more often than she ever had before.

Being in the car alone for close to three hours now also afforded her ample time alone with her thoughts. She had been running nonstop for the last three days, hadn't rally allowed herself to feel the gaping absence in her chest. She didn't know where her daughter was, or if she was okay. Myka had been kidnapped and was most definitely not okay.

Maybe it was a good thing the roads were so empty, since the lines became so blurred as Helena's eyes filled with tears and her hands shook the steering wheel. She knew she should probably pull to the side of the road before she caused an accident, but she couldn't allow herself to slow down in the slightest, not when the promise of getting Myka back was right there, just out of her grasp.

"Get a hold of yourself," She spoke aloud as she swiped angrily at her eyes.

"Everything okay in there?" Claudia's voice spoke through the ear piece.

"Fantastic." Helena forced her voice to sound light. It was then there was a short burst of blue and red light behind her, "Either I have the highway patrol finally pulling me over for reckless driving, or the agents have arrived."

"Stay calm." Claudia warned as HG pulled off the highway and onto an access road.

The put the car in park and took a breath, keeping her eyes on the scene before her now. The car that pulled her over had its high beams on, blinding HG and making it impossible to see who was walking along the side of her car now.

There was a tapping on her window, and she rolled it down, looking up with a neutral expression.

Raymond smiled down at her, "We're here to collect you, Miss Wells. Do you mind stepping out of the car?"

HG nodded, doing her best to move normally as she went through the motions of exiting the car, bring sure that she didn't have to brush up against the agent when he stood far too close to her.

"We're going to have to search you before we take you in." Sandra's voice had Helena noticing the female agent leaned against the rear driver's side door, "Put your hands against the car please."

HG did as she was told, still refusing to talk, afraid she would speak through her anger and make everything worse for her, for Myka.

Raymond's hands moved slowly over her, in a decidedly unprofessional manner as he slowed when moving between her thighs. She tried to bite her lip and take it passively, but she couldn't take it any longer. She spun on the car and shoved him from her, causing Raymond to trip over himself and land hard on his ass.

"Hey!" he protested.

"I'll not be groped under the pretenses of a search, agent." She nearly spat at him.

Sandra rolled her eyes and stepped in. She motioned for HG to resume her position against the car, and reluctantly she complied. Sandra's hands were less obtrusive on Helena, but not by much. She found the tesla and cell phone first, tossing them into the front seat of Helena's car.

"Lift your shirt to your bra line and turn," Her tone was almost bored, but HG hesitated still, "Look, by my clock, your girlfriend has about forty-five more minutes before… well before it's too late. So swallow your pride and lift your shirt."

Helena did just that, seeing red for a moment at the mention of her girlfriend's situation, "What did you do to her?" She demanded as Sandra finished her pat down, thankfully not thinking to check HG's ear or remove her ever present locket.

"Which time?" Sandra let a cruel smile splay over her lips, "When I let lose a deadly artifact in her parents shop? Or when I gave her would be murderer a ride away from the crime scene? Or maybe you're referring to all the fun she and I have had over the last three days while you took your sweet time retrieving James' things."

Helena tasted blood in her mouth, biting on her cheeks, her lips, her tongue, anything to keep herself from lashing out at the wicked woman taunting her now. Surely she was just doing it to get a rise out of her…

"Where are the artifacts?" Sandra demanded when her jeering didn't work.

"On the back seat." She motioned with her head as Raymond moved to enclose her wrists with a zip tie.

The blonde agent retrieved the foil incased curiosities, moving them to the back of their SUV.

Raymond pushed HG from behind, "Come on, girly," he whispered in her ear and Helena felt her skin crawl as his breath trailed over her neck. He opened the back door for her before "helping" to lift her in.

HG closed her eyes as the agents started them driving again, down the side road HG had pulled off on. She began to conjugate French verbs, praying this trip would be short. She could feel each mile passing beneath her, bringing her ever closer to her reunion with Myka.

Her mental exercises were interrupted by the malicious tone of the female agent once more. "Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"About what, darling?" HG's voice was dripping with faux sweetness.

"How about, how I got the journal to Warren?" she offered, clearly anxious, wanting to share her sheer brilliance with someone, "Or why?"

"Please," HG rolled her eyes, "Do tell me every detail of your master plan."

Sandra ignored the sarcasm, chomping at the bit and starting her story before HG finished her sentence, "I knew James was worried about finding the pen and the journal, they had become quite illusive, and we couldn't seem to catch up with both of them."

"Not surprising," Helena shrugged, her tone light, "I mean, I have seen you two in the field. Inexperienced college kids could do a better job."

Sandra went on as if HG hadn't spoken, "I found the journal, I had it in my hands… the only problem was the pen hadn't resurfaced in years. I knew you and your humanitarian friends would do anything to find it if someone you loved was in danger. Warren Bering was an easy target. When I brought the book in to sell… he would have given me anything for the book that nearly killed him." She chuckled, "And I was right. As soon as your precious Myka figured out an artifact was hurting her old man, you and your friends went all out trying to find the other half. I heard that little redheaded friend of yours was almost cut in half. What a shame… it would have been interesting to see how the regents tried to cover that one up."

"What a fracking bitch." Claudia hissed in her ear, clearly offended.

Helena had gone back to conjugating verbs and counting miles. She could tell when they got close because both agents began to relax. That wasn't good. For their plan to work, HG needed them worked up and easily distracted.

"How long have you and your boss been copulating?" HG asked with no preamble.

"Excuse you?" Sandra demanded while Raymond jerked the wheel, shooting his partner a sideways glance.

"I'm sorry, perhaps I should have worded it differently," HG thought for a moment, "Have you been fucking MacPherson for long, or is this a recent development?"

Raymond snorted, "Sandra and MacPherson aren't…" he trailed off when a glance at his partner revealed a deepening blush that spread form her neck and an enraged look plastered on her face, "Oh, God, seriously?" he demanded, but received no reply. He gave a disgusted noise and looked back to the dark road in front of them.

"Tell me, Sandra," Helena cut in again, leaning forward in her seat some, "I'm curious from a feminists' stand point, woman to woman, did you decide to go along with this plan because that's what he wanted? Or are you twisted all on your own and you two sociopaths have just found each other by chance? Oh, oh, please, for the love of all that is good and holy, tell me that really it's you who is using him and not the other way around."

There was poisonous silence rolling off Sandra's tense shoulders and HG knew she needed one final push, "Sandra, Sandra, Sandra," she shook her head, "I'm disappointed in you. What happened to being evil for evil's sake? And letting MacPherson use you like that… is the sex good at least… can he even-,"

"You shut your whore mouth!" Sandra turned in her seat, drawing her pistol and aiming it at HG's smug grin, "One more word and I will blast that pretty mouth out the back of your goddamn skull!"

"Touchy, touchy," HG mumbled before letting her sly grin grow wider, "You really think my mouth is pretty?"

Sandra gave a wordless cry of rage and it was only Raymond's sharp order for his partner to get a hold of herself that stopped shots from being fired.

The last fifteen minutes of the drive were made in an atmosphere teeming with tension. If a match had been lit in the car, HG was sure that it all would have exploded around them.

In the hour between Sandra walking out of the room and the SUV pulling up the rock path, Myka had not been idle. Had she been, she most certainly would have succumb, but her primal instincts had kicked in, her fight reflex snapping into action.

Myka spent the entire hour left alone with renewed energy struggling against the ropes. She knew that if she stopped moving… if she stopped struggling… stopped trying, then she would die. So she twisted, rocked, heaved, left to right, left to right, left to right, left to right, trying to wear the rope against the beam that it was draped around. She tried, through shivering, numb lips to call to Walter, to urge him to do the same as she, but he had long since stopped making any noise, and Myka found herself worried once more.

Her efforts of escape were cut short, unable to know just how close she had been, when she heard the approaching agents, seeming to be in a low argument that Myka could really hear over the sound of her own labored breathing. She willed her body to stop swaying as they drew ever nearer…

Helena caught herself just in time as Sandra yanked her from the back of the SUV, glad that Raymond had restrained her hands in front of her. She was able to save herself from getting more intimately acquainted with the gravel walkway.

Sandra pulled her to her feet by her hair, and HG had to bite back a cry of pain.

"You need to chill, partner," Raymond barked, moving Sandra away from their prisoner, "Jeeze for someone who's apparently been having sex this whole time, you sure are up tight."

"Shut the fuck up!" Sandra spat at him.

"Whoa!" Raymond held his hands up defensively as they pushed HG to move towards the large structure before them , "All I'm saying is that you have been giving me crap for the last three years for playing the field, meanwhile you are letting the boss slip it to you-,"

Sandra's punch was swift and painful, and Raymond took it.

"Alright," he nodded, picking himself up off the floor, rubbing his jaw tenderly, "I deserved that. But you and I need to have a chat when this is over."

"Don't count on it." Sandra hissed.

They left HG to look over their surroundings, mostly empty ranch land, like most of this area of California, and the barn they were pushing her towards now seemed to have been long ago abandoned. The paint may once have been red, but now it was a weathered grey in the moon light. What struck HG as the oddest, was the near complete lack of sound surrounding them.

She tried to not make it obvious as she brought her conjoined wrists to her mouth, tugging on the ends of the zip ties binding her, making them impossibly tighter. She thought she had been caught when Raymond nudged her from behind, but he was only trying to get her moving towards the barn once more.

She sent a prayer up to whomever was listening that cold night that the others were close behind, but she didn't want to risk asking Claudia just how close her back up was. MacPherson thought he had been so clever, sending her driving aimlessly for hours, making sure she wasn't being followed. Before picking her up thirty minutes from his location.

His one mistake was making an enemy of the team of people far more clever than he could ever hope to be.

Raymond and Sandra marched her right up to the wide door, swinging it open and shoving her inside before flipping the overhead lights on. Helena closed her eyes against the assaulting brightness. She blinked once, twice, looking around as Raymond pulled the barn door shut behind them.

While the outside had made this building appear as if it were one strong windstorm from being rubble, it was clear someone had gone to great lengths to fortify this barn and adapt it to their own purposes.

The cement floors and reinforced steal walls supporting the original structure while protecting it from the elements, making it at least ten degrees warmer inside than in the winter air. The rear of the barn had been divided, cut off from the main floor and turned into rooms or perhaps offices… But none of this caught Helena's attention.

No, what caught her eye and had her blood boiling was the sight of her love, her Myka Ophelia Bering, strong and fierce and alive, hanging from the rafters in the middle of the large room. Her wrists were bound with rope that was thrown over a beam, her toes inches from the ground. Her hands were bloody and blistered where it's clear Myka had once made the effort to pull herself up repeatedly to get a breath, to regain blood flow in her hands. Her clothing was dripping, her body almost convulsing in the cold as her lips turned blue. Her Blood shot eyes widened briefly in fear until they settled on HG, and filled with so much relief and joy, it broke the woman staring at her.

"Helena," Her words were a breathless whisper, and her eyes closed briefly, fighting tears, not wanting to appear any weaker in front of the agents than she already did.

HG's eyes darted around the rest of the room, searching for some way to help her girlfriend, all thoughts of the carefully constructed plan thrown out the window. HG could see now what Sandra had meant about her not having much time. She was surprised that Myka hadn't succumbed to hypothermia yet. As the other prisoner appeared to have-

Other prisoner? HG looked to the man she could barely recognize as Walter Sykes hanging a little ways to the left of Myka. His head hanging, body swaying slightly. Part of her gave a mirthless laugh and thought he deserved it. But the rest of her greatly over shadowed it, seeing someone who had obviously been tortured far beyond anything Helena, in all her dark creativity, couldn't have imagined.

"Dude, what the fuck?" Raymond demanded, seeing this room for the first time, dropping his guard.

Helena brought her arms down in one swift motion, her forearms hitting her hips and causing her bindings to snap. She spun, in one quick motion landing a hit to Raymond's gut, sweeping her leg around him and causing his forward momentum to bring his face into contact his her awaiting fist. Sandra had done him a favor in dislocating his jaw earlier, now HG's hit broke it completely as well as rendered him unconscious.

She turned to Sandra now, still mostly in shock at the sudden turn of events, but having enough presence of mind to raise her weapon, which HG promptly relieved her of. Sandra cried out in pain, griping her now fractured wrist, but Helena silenced her with a knee to the stomach, followed by a hit to the ribs. And when Sandra was finally on the floor, her face was met with the heel of Helena's boot, and she was out like a light.

"What the fuck in deed." Helena growled down at the two unconscious agents.

There was a slow clapping from behind her, and HG swung around, gun raised and finger resting beside the trigger. Her breathing was labored as she watched MacPherson approach, the door of the room he had been waiting in closing softly behind him.

"That was rather impressive, I must admit," he smiled, "I knew I should have worked harder to recruit you."

"Into your crazy plan?" Helena gave a short humorless laugh, "And been like Sandra here? No thanks. Besides, you're not my type, darling."

"Alright, no need to be spiteful, Helena," James shook his head, "You've brought my artifacts, as promised, and now you can leave with your girlfriend, as promised. I've even saved dear Mr. Sykes here for you to do with as you please."

"No, I think I'd rather just kill you, James," Helena fixed her sights on him, thumbing the safety.

"Ah, ah, ah," MacPherson gave a cruel smile as he pulled a thin rod shaped object from under his arm, "Not so fast, my dear." He gave it a twist and pain erupted in Helena.

It had no focal point, no place of origin. Her entire body was cloaked with pain and it took all her strength to bite back the scream that clawed its way up her throat. She tried to stay focused on MacPherson, to fix her wavering aim, but she didn't seem to have control over her body.

"Now, now, haven't you ever been told that guns are dangerous?" James smiled sweetly before twisting the rod in his hands once more, "Lets point that elsewhere, shall we?"

More pain wracked HG's body, and she found it twisting of its own accord, the only thing lessening her agony. But she found herself crying out in protest when the barrel was pointed at Myka instead.

"No! What are you doing? Stop!" the aching worsened every moment that HG worked to fight it, only managing to move the aim of the gun from Myka's head to her stomach.

"Cecil B. DeMille's Riding Crop..." he stroked the thing before giving it another twist, and Helena's aim rose to Myka's heaving chest, "Look at that. Lets my mind control your body. It's pretty damn cold, don't you think?"

Staring into Myka's eyes was the only thing that allowed HG to think outside of the pain as she worked to move her aim inches to the left, aiming just at her shoulder now. Beads of sweat poured down HG's face despite the freezing temperature. Myka's green eyes were clouded with pain as she watched HG fight, and the Brit's heart twisted when she realized that it wasn't Myka's own pain causing her to flinch, it was Helena's.

"Fighting it will only make it worse." James spoke as if Helena was a petulant child who didn't understand the way things worked, and he turned the riding crop once more with a cackle, fixing Helena's aim where he wanted it.

"I have been thinking," he spoke over Helena's curses and sounds of struggled, "What would be the best punishment for you? Killing Myka surely, but what's even worse than taking her from you? Then it hit me, making you kill her."

"No," Helena sobbed, fighting back tears and gritting her teeth until they creaked in her mouth.

"Right, you are far too right my dear," He nodded, "Then I would have to look over my shoulder for all of eternity, waiting for you to seek your revenge. And you have had some dark fantasies, I hear, and those were only about our dear Mr. Sykes, who merely shot your beloved. No, I couldn't have that hanging over my head."

He wrung the artifact in his hands, and Helena's arm twisted once more, only now the cold barrel of the gun was placed forcefully beneath her own chin. It was Myka's turn to cry out in protest as she struggled uselessly against her ropes. She wished more than anything she could be as badass as her girlfriend had been for one moment and break free of her ropes, but she could barely keep her oxygen deprived brain focused on what was happening.

"See, here's the lovely plan I've landed on, clean up all my messes, tie off all my loose ends." He chuckled, "I kill you, or more accurately, I force you to kill yourself in your girlfriend's place." It was then that Helena realized the pain had stopped, because she had stopped fighting it, now that the threat was no longer on Myka.

"She might fight for a little while, but I hear she has a few screws loose up top," MacPherson clucked his tongue, "It's only a matter of time before the guilt and depression get to her and… well…"

Helena could see it, God, she didn't want to, but she could. Myka from last year wouldn't have ever dreamt of killing herself, but this Myka… so afflicted by those damned dog tags… this wasn't clear thinking, level headed Myka. HG knew that Myka's motivation for her own recovery was being there for Helena and Christina. And with Helena gone…

"Why?" Helena demanded, looking for anyway to stall, to put this off until the backup she should have waited for arrived, "Why did you do all of this, MacPherson? Why release artifacts back out into the world when you worked so hard to collect them."

"I didn't work to collect them!" James corrected her angrily, "That was Arthur and Vanessa and Hugo. I tried to convince the regents that the artifacts were tools, meant to be used! They wouldn't hear me. This was how I could make them listen." He shrugged, giving a smug smile, "It was also quite the little enterprise. Sell the artifacts, steal them back… all the while, the rise in artifact disturbances helped me to convince some of the regents to let us use artifacts in the field. It was only a matter of time before I convinced them to my plan completely."

James face twisted with hatred, "Until you and your meddling friends came along and ruined my plan. No matter, I had no qualms killing Rebecca and Jack, and I actually kind of liked them. You? I loath you. I've no pity at all." He moved to twist the cop once more.

A loud snap and a cry of pure fury distracted him for just enough time so Helena could duck her head to the side as the gun went off. There was a loud ringing in her right ear and she tried to understand what just happened.

She tried to shake off the discombobulating effects as she squinted at the scene before her now. Where Myka had been before, hung now only open space. And where MacPherson stood, two bodies struggled for dominance.

It was an outmatched fight with one of the competitors bound, starved and in the early stages of hypothermia. It was only a matter of seconds before MacPherson was back on his feet, standing over Myka. The riding crop was no longer in his hands, having been knocked free when he was tackled by the near crazed woman, but he found a substitute weapon in the form of an old two by four.

Helena didn't allow herself time to think. She took a breath and lifted the gun in one motion, and fired. Her aim was true, but it still took James a moment to react.

The explosion of the gun echoed through the now eerily silent barn, and MacPherson stood for a moment, a confused look on his face. Myka watched as he realized with growing horror that he had been the target. And the blood spread over his chest quickly as he fell to the ground on his knees, the length of lumber falling with a clang beside him. The rest of him crumpled to the ground, his mouth opening and closing, trying to pull in a breath with his now irreparably damaged lungs.

HG dropped her gun in disgust and rushed to Myka, pulling her up into her arms, dragging her back from the slowly dying body of James MacPherson. He spasamed once, his throat gurgling, before he moved no more.

Helena collapsed gratefully to the ground, she pulled at the rope restraints until they fell away and there was nothing left stopping her from pulling the freezing form of her girlfriend tightly to her chest. She opened her coat and Myka wrapped her arms around her, seeking warmth and comfort as she shook uncontrollably.

"I-I l-l-love y-y-y-you." Myka mumbled as she buried her face into Helena's shoulders. She had been afraid she would never get to utter those words to her ever again.

HG fought to not pull away from the icy skin that met hers, working instead to hold Myka closer, tighter, "I love you too, darling." She needed to get her to some place warm and safe.

Helena still couldn't hear out of her right ear, she couldn't hear Claudia shouting for her to please say something, to tell her that everything was all right. She could hear the update that the others were trying to get into the barn now.

The barn door burst open, getting caught for a brief moment on the still unconscious bodies of the agents. Pete and Steve came stumbling through first, looking down in shock at Sandra and Raymond before glancing over to Myka and Helena, huddled in the middle of the barn next to a hanging body and an unmoving body.

Artie, right behind them, was the first to recover as he recognized his former partner and friend laying on the floor. He rushed to him, already feeling the denial rising in his throat. He fell to his knees, pulling James to his chest, but he was too late. James MacPherson was dead. And even though part of Arthur Nielson knew that there was no other way this was going to end with the two woman behind him alive, he still mourned for his loss.

Steve worked on putting cuffs on the stirring agents while Pete and Dr. Calder rushed to Helena's side.

"You're alright," Pete collapsed next to them, "Mykes, you're alright. She is alright, right?" He looked to Helena, who was mostly unresponsive, before turning to the doctor.

"I need to look at her more closely…" she began.

"N-n-no!" Myka cried out, putting force behind her words, "G-g-go ch-ch-check Wa-w-walter." She motioned with her chin to the man hanging next to him. "Hel-help him f-f-first. Get. Him. Down."

"Myka," the doctor tried, looking behind her shoulder at the wanted fugitive, not thinking there was really a point to saving him now, she didn't even believe he was still alive.

"He-he-he's been here lo-lo-longer." She insisted stubbornly.

Pete and Helena exchanged a look, "Myka he tried to kill you." Pete explained in a low tone."

"N-n-not hi-his fa-fault." She shook her head, "P-p-please."

"How about I take her to the car and get her warmed up," HG suggested, also believing Sykes to be dead, and not wanting her fragile girlfriend to be there when that discovery was made.

"Oh alright," Vanessa caved, "Pete, help me get Walter down."

Helena was glad she didn't have to watch either, feeling sick about all the things she had imagined doing to him once she caught him. She stumbled under Myka's weight for a moment, remembering the first time she had to hold Myka up as they flew above a car that tried to run her down. HG held on to that happy moment as she carried Myka outside to the idled SUV driven in by Pete.

They sat huddled together in the back seat, Myka drifting in and out of consciousness as Helena hummed a song to her, placing kisses to where ever she could reach between verses, glad that Myka could see the tears that flowed so freely down her face now.

Finally, finally, they were safe, and she could hold Myka and tell her that she loved her, and keep her safe from everything that always seemed to be moving against them.

"I love you." Helena sighed into Myka's damp and knotted hair.

"I love you, too." Myka murmured sleepily.

HG was shocked to see what she did next. Pete and Steve working together, carrying Walter Sykes, wrapped tightly in a blanket, but apparently alive. Vanessa and Artie followed close behind them, Arthur with red rimmed eyes, pushing the two cuffed and dazed agents to the other SUV.

Pete and Steve lay Walter on the back seat before ushering Raymond and Sandra to the third row, fixing their cuffs to the handles above their heads. They then went back into the barn a second time while Vanessa got settled into the driver's seat of that SUV and Artie in the passenger side. The two boys reappeared with a vaguely human shaped wrapped bundle that they placed in the cargo area of the same car.

They closed it up and stood there for a moment, watching the doctor drive away before turning and getting into their own vehicle.

They all sat in silence for a moment, allowing their breath to fog up the windows with words unsaid.

"What now?" Myka asked softly.

"Now we go home." Pete declared as he put the car in drive.

"Or perhaps, we could stop by the hospital first?" HG interjected worriedly.

"No, I hate hospitals." Myka complained.

"I know, my love." Helena assured her, "But I will go sick with worry until I know that you will be alright."

"I am alright." Myka argued weakly.

"I just want to be sure that I will have you to worry over for the rest of my life." Helena sighed as she placed another kiss on the top of Myka's head.

She felt the other woman sigh and finally give in. It was only then that, for the first time in four days, with Myka safely secured to her chest, that Helena allowed herself a moment's rest. To close her eyes and feel the knot of worry loosen in her chest.

She was safe. Her heart was safe.