Warehouse 13
High School AU
Eventual Bering and Wells and Cleena; current Myka/Sam and Claudia/Todd

So, the note I wrote for the last chapter didn't actually publish. Basically, I'm working through some stuff in real life right now, so updates are going to be really sporadic. I wish they weren't, and I'm sorry. Still, fast update this time.

And a big thanks to everyone who reviews. It means so, so much.

Chapter Thirty-seven

"No."

It is the strongest word she had said in over two weeks. Her voice was full, clear. It didn't tremble around the syllable.

"Myka," Jane sighed. Well, Myka assumed she sighed from the way her face moved with the word. The movement of her lips was softer. Her shoulders slouched for a moment.

Jane also signed as she spoke. The letter 'M'.

"No."

"You need to." The sign for 'need'.

Myka shook her head. She knew she was being petulant, childlike, but she didn't care.

They wanted to knock her out. They were going to knock her out then move her. She was going to be somewhere different when she woke up.

She didn't think she would be able to handle that again.

Jane sighed again. Her body slumped down in the chair. She ran a hand through her hair – exactly like Pete would – then rubbed her temple. She picked up the notebook and pen.

Myka turned her attention elsewhere as Jane wrote. The TV in the corner of the room was crooked. The clock on her wall was two minutes slower than the clock on the wall outside her door. The clouds outside her window were a light grey and getting darker as the afternoon went on.

Jane lightly tapped her forearm and Myka looked back at her. She took the offered notebook but didn't read. She just looked at Jane.

"Please," she whispered. "Please don't make me."

She could see the resolve on Jane's face crack. Jane closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'll talk to the doctors." Talk. Doctor.

"Thank you."

Jane smiled. It wasn't a completely happy smile, though. Very few of the smiles Jane had given her since she had first woken had been completely happy; especially since her first nightmare the previous week.

Myka's stomach twisted. She rolled onto her side slightly as Jane stood and left.

-oOo-

Tracy pulled her lip between her teeth. The eraser end of her pencil tapped against her homework for a few moments before she wrote the answer.

When she finished the sentence, she put her pencil down. She sighed and leaned back in the desk chair. She was almost done with the history worksheet, but still had questions from her science book and a short English essay to finish after.

She didn't know how she was going to catch up. She met with teachers each day after school, and they were all willing to take it at her pace, but it was just all so daunting.

She rolled her neck, then picked her pencil back up.

She didn't look up as the door opened, signifying that Aunt Cindy had returned. It wasn't until a wrapped sandwich was put on the desk next to her that she stopped working.

She only stopped for a moment, however, and quickly went back to work.

"Eat," Aunt Cindy pushed, gently pulling the pencil from Tracy's hand.

Tracy shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

Aunt Cindy sighed and leaned against the desk.

"You need to eat."

Tracy lowered her head, glancing at the sandwich every few moments. She slumped back in the chair and pushed her homework back before pulling the sandwich to her.

Aunt Cindy put her hand on Tracy's shoulder for a moment before standing straight and walking away.

Tracy ate the sandwich in silence, then went back to her homework. She managed to stay focused on her essay until Aunt Cindy's phone rang. The woman talked for a few moments before walking back to the desk.

"It's your mother," she said, holding the phone out.

Tracy sighed and took the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Tracy." Her mother's voice was tired. Tracy swallowed thickly at the sound.

"Hey," she quietly replied, not sure what else to say.

"We'll be back in few days."

Tracy's breath caught. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"That's good."

There were a few moments of silence. Tracy slowly twirled her pencil around her fingers.

"I'll see you then," her mom finally said.

"Yeah," Tracy replied.

There were a few more moments of silence.

"Tracy…"

"Yeah?"

Her mother took a deep breath. "I love you."

Tracy squeezed her eyes shut. "I love you too, Mom."

-oOo-

Olivia wrapped her fingers around the doorframe and peered into the den.

Steve was sitting with Claudia and Pete around the coffee table. A plate filled with what she knew had to be the rest of the Oreos sat on the table. Pete was showing Steve and Claudia something with his hands.

She didn't fully understand why Pete was at their house so much. She knew that something had happened to his friend Myka, something bad, but she didn't know why that meant Pete was staying at their house. Every time she asked her mother, she got quiet.

Olivia furrowed her eyebrows as she watched their hands. Pete reached across the table and moved Claudia's hand slightly.

"What're you doing with your hands?"

They all turned to her, then glanced at each other.

"Pete's teaching us sign language," Steve said after a moment.

Olivia tilted her head. "Why?"

Steve took a deep breath, then gestured for her to go over. When she reached them, he pulled her down to sit next to him.

"Do you remember Myka? From the pool party a few months ago?" he asked.

She nodded. "She's the one who was missing, right? Didn't they find her?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah. They did. She's coming home soon, but she got hurt, and she can't hear really well right now."

She perked up. "So you're learning how to speak with her."

"Yup."

"Can I learn?"

"Of course," Pete spoke up.

-O-

Pete turned to Claudia after Steve carried a sleeping Olivia from the room.

"She's…something. Were you like that at her age? I mean, a year isn't much time, but…"

She threw an Oreo at him. "There are at least four years between me and the rugrat," she huffed.

"If you say so."

"I do. Besides," her shoulders slumped, "I was already in the system at her age."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

"Eh," she waved him off.

He looked at the doorway again as memories of Myka rose up. He couldn't remember actually seeing her happy until they had worked together in the Room for a while. Her dad could have easily…

He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the thought. It didn't work as an image of a lanky, ten year old Myka hiding in a corner popped into his mind. Had she been used to it by that age?

"She'll be home this weekend," Claudia softly said, pulling his mind from the image from an even younger Myka.

He glanced at her and nodded.

-oOo-

Helena was on the hotel bed, lying on her side, her legs bent slightly beneath the blankets. One of her arms was curled beneath her head. The other lay in front of her, her index finger tracing patterns on the touch pad. Her eyes burned from the strain of the bright screen in the dark room as they followed the movement of the mouse.

She had spent over an hour trying to fall asleep before admitting defeat and sneaking to the sitting room of the suite for her father's laptop.

She had been blankly staring at the default desktop image since.

A box popped up in the corner of the screen.

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It was a new email notification, from Charles. She moved the mouse to the box, only to have it vanish before she could click on it.

She let out a sharp breath through her nose and went to the browser instead. A few clicks later Charles' email was on the screen.

Dearest sister,

She rolled her eyes at his insistence for formality.

I was quite distressed to learn that you had gone into such early labour. I found it quite difficult to make it through the day with the knowledge that you were in such peril. In truth, I am still quite anxious after receiving your last email, despite knowing that you and Christopher are both doing better.

How is he doing? I have spent some time researching the development of premature infants, and everything I have read states at some point that there is no perfectly typical case. According to my findings, he should open his eyes at some point soon. Has this happened? Does he have my eyes? I shall be absolutely distraught if he does not.

I, too, am doing well. Quite well, in fact. Do you remember the girl I told you about? Mary? The costumer? Well, we have now gone on multiple dates. I am considering telling her. I'm not entirely sure how. You know how well the last people I told reacted.

Still, look at me, discussing my own fortunes while my sister is in such a state. I do wish I was able to afford international minutes. It has been too long since we have actually spoken.

As soon as they return to England, I will visit. On my honour.

Your brother.

She chuckled. He had always been prone to exaggeration, even as a child. Exaggeration and dramatics.

It had been some time, however, since he had gone so over the top. Always her older brother, he had known that it would make her smile. He had known she would need to smile, need him to help her smile.

She hit the reply button and began to type. She barely managed to type out the greeting before falling asleep.

-oOo-

Myka pushed the grey mass across her plate. She was pretty sure it was supposed to be oatmeal, but it had a consistence and texture more like mashed potatoes. She sighed and brought a spoonful to her mouth.

It tasted nothing like oatmeal, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, considering she had never liked oatmeal all that much. She forced herself to swallow, and flinched at the way it slid down her throat. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

When she opened her eyes, she glanced at the door. Jane was in the doorway, watching her.

"Is that breakfast any good?" Jane asked. Myka didn't know the first sign Jane did, but know the second was 'good' and the third meant it was a question, so figured it must have been 'breakfast'.

She shrugged and pushed the mush around some more.

Jane walked to the chair and sat.

Myka watched her, then turned back to her food when she sat. She pushed the plate of mush to the side and pulled the bowl of fruit forwards instead. She ate a few pieces before Jane lightly touched her arm.

She turned to the woman and took the notebook offered. It was a new one, exactly the same as the last, except for the tie-dye pattern on the cover.

She opened it to the first page to find what Jane had written.

I talked to the doctors. They don't like it, but they have agreed to keep you conscious during the flight.

She looked back at Jane, who nodded.

Myka nodded as well, more to affirm the news to herself.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," Jane replied.

Myka took a deep breath. "Tomorrow?"

Jane nodded again. "Tomorrow."