Helena woke up to find Hunnigan's bed had grown rather crowded during the night. Charlie had jumped on the bed and was now resting on Helena's abdomen, dutifully guarding her sleep. To her side, in the spot between Helena and Hunnigan, was a little boy, the tip of his thumb in his mouth as he slept soundly in his mother's arms. Helena noted that his brown hair had gotten rather long since the last time she'd seen him and that it curled a little at the ends, a trait she was certain he'd inherited from his mother.
"C'mon, Charlie," Helena encouraged in a whisper, softly patting the dog's head and he got up and jumped off the bed, allowing Helena to get up as well.
After brushing her teeth, Helena meant to go feed Charlie but only then realized she hadn't prepared properly yesterday, she had forgotten to buy dog food. With that she decided to combine a morning walk with a quick trip to the corner store. She took a moment to look around for Hunngian's keys, and spotted them on the small table by the door. She left a note letting Hunnigan know where she was and took the keys.
"Okay, let's go," Helena smiled at Charlie after putting a leash and his vest (which identified him as a service dog) on him.
Once outside, Helena lit a cigarette and began heading toward the store, uncomfortably aware of the occasional long look passers-by gave her, muttering "Isn't that..?" in hushed voices. Helena sighed internally, she'd hoped that people would have forgotten about her already but apparently that had been too much to ask.
She managed to get to the store and get the items she'd gone out for before the odd anxiety began to claw its way up her throat.
What the hell is wrong with me? she frowned at herself. She'd never been bothered by crowds (any more than anyone would be at least), but now it suddenly felt like everyone was looking at her. Some certainly were, but most weren't, most didn't care, most hadn't even noticed her existence, but still she felt like everyone's attention was on her, and that they knew her past, knew the intimate details of her humiliation.
Rationally, she knew it wasn't possible, but unfortunately common sense didn't apply in the state she found herself. Charlie drew her attention to himself by nuzzling her palm and then licking it.
"Hey. Good boy, good Charlie," Helena smiled and petted him, continuing their walk back toward Hunnigan's apartment.
Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like? Random anxiety attacks over things I am imagining? How the hell am I supposed to get anything done? How am I supposed to work? Helena lamented internally and the simple answer was... she couldn't.
With enough medication and therapy, she supposed it would become manageable eventually, but the defiant part of her insisted it was wrong. She didn't want to take pills just to feel normal, it wasn't how it was supposed to be, she should've coped without. She had until now, why did that have to change.
You know why it has to change, you weren't coping, you were barely surviving, and life is supposed to be more than just surviving, Deborah's voice told her.
Helena sighed deeply. At least the voices in her head had grown less aggressive over the time she'd spent at the psychiatric hospital. She'd hoped they would be gone completely, but she didn't think that would ever happen no matter how many hours of therapy she attended and how many different cocktails of pills she tried.
Helena could smell coffee and toast when she entered the apartment, her stomach making a growling noise to not-so-subtly alert her to the fact that she was rather hungry. She took the leash and the vest off of Charlie and returned Hunnigan's keys to where she'd found them, and headed toward the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks and exhaled a sharp but quiet breath at the sight of Hunnigan.
My God, she's beautiful, Helena mused as she shamelessly and sheepishly just stared at her, the sunlight pouring in from the kitchen window tinting Hunnigan with rose gold, its glow framing her with bright light that made Helena think of majestic paintings of divine creatures in their fiery glory.
"Good morning," the goddess spoke, breaking the spell and bringing Helena back from her thoughts, returning her to the sunlit kitchen on a beautiful albeit rather ordinary August morning.
"Good morning," Helena finally greeted Hunnigan who stood by the stove, dipping bread into a mixture of egg and milk, and placed the slices on the skillet. Seeley sat at the table, busy with the My little pony coloring book while his mother made breakfast.
"Doggie!" Seeley exclaimed happily upon noticing Charlie. He jumped down from the chair and was about to hurry over when Hunnigan gripped his arm and stopped him.
"Buddy, we talked about this, you can't run up to doggies without giving them a moment to get to know you, okay? You don't want to scare them," she chastised gently.
"His name is Charlie," Helena said and knelt down by the dog, petting him and Hunnigan let go of Seeley and he walked over. Charlie nuzzled the boy and sniffed him thoroughly before leaning closer, his tail swaying from side to side as he allowed the little human to pet him.
"Good boy, good Charlie," Helena said with a smile.
"Am I a good boy?" Seeley turned to inquire from his mother who laughed heartily.
"You're the best boy," Hunnigan responded and leaned to kiss the top of his head. "You need to get a haircut," she then added and ruffled his hair before turning her attention back to the French toast cooking in the skillet.
It took a while to convince Seeley that he should go wash up and get ready for breakfast, he would've rather spent the morning petting Charlie. It wasn't until Helena pointed out that Charlie needed to have breakfast too that he finally went to wash his hands.
"You still take milk in your coffee?" Hunnigan grinned after pouring Helena a mug.
"Only if it's locally produced," Helena teased back and they laughed. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?" Helena then sighed as she added milk (from a cow this time) into her coffee.
"Nope," Hunnigan confirmed.
She put the remaining pieces of toast onto a plate which she then placed in the middle of the table, adding a jar of jam and a cup of sugar afterward before finally taking a seat. Seeley returned from the bathroom, displaying his cleaned hands before going to take a seat at the table too, moving his coloring book out of the way, accidentally knocking over the glass of milk Hunnigan had poured.
Helena inhaled sharply and tensed up at that, the sight of the spilled liquid and the sound of it dripping over the edge of the kitchen table suddenly rushing her over fifteen years to her past, to the moment she'd made the mistake of being a clumsy child who'd knocked over a drink. Only in her case the drink had been her grandmother's vodka and coke, nothing as insignificant as a glass of milk. Granted, it wouldn't have mattered, the punishment would've been just as severe, Helena guessed.
Charlie once again drew her attention to himself by pawing at her knee, rising to lean against it so he could reach to nuzzle her face.
"Okay, okay," Helena chuckled, telling him he was a good boy and petting his head. Poor dog's been with me for five minutes and he's already overworked because of how damn fucked up I am.
Helena expected Hunnigan to explode in a furious rant about how Seeley should watch what the hell he was doing and be more careful, followed by a few derogatory remarks regarding the kid's clumsiness, but she didn't. Of course she didn't, she wasn't Frances Harper, she was the opposite, she was the kind of a woman who raised a child, Frances had merely tolerated them out of legal obligation.
"Uhp, let's get something to clean that up with," Hunnigan said and began to wipe down the spilled milk (Charlie helping out by drinking up the drops that had landed on the floor).
"Uh-oh, I'm sorry," Seeley muttered.
"It's okay, buddy, accidents happen," Hunnigan assured gently as she cleaned up, and once everything was back in order, she poured Seeley another glass of milk.
"Are you okay?" Hunnigan then quietly asked from Helena.
"Yeah, I just, uh...would've gotten in so much trouble if I'd done that when I was a kid," Helena answered wryly, wishing she wasn't so damn easy to read for Hunnigan to notice every little thing triggering something within her.
They finished breakfast and Hunnigan told Seeley to get ready for daycare which was when he threw a tantrum, stating he didn't want to go because he wanted to stay home and play with Charlie.
"Well, I'm gonna be here for the day anyway, I can look after him if you want?" Helena offered.
"No, thank you but no. Seeley, go get dressed. Right now," Hunnigan said sternly and he threw himself on the floor. Helena glanced at Hunnigan who shook her head a little, and Helena held Charlie back when he intended to go comfort the child.
Why won't she just let me babysit? Helena wondered quietly.
"Come on, let's go," she said and guided the dog out of the kitchen as Seeley began to cry, the kind of loud wailing a child would do just out of frustration rather than pain or sadness.
Sure, that's what good mothers do, they leave their kids in the care of mentally unstable people who have a history of violence, some of which they have personal experience, Helena thought sarcastically, feeling a hollow pang of guilt hit her chest when she looked back on the time she'd nearly strangled Hunnigan to death. She didn't think she'd ever forgive herself for that despite Hunnigan insisting it was fine because Helena hadn't been in control of herself at the time. That only made it worse, the implication of it still terrifying. If she so completely lost control once, what was stopping it from happening again?
Hunnigan began clearing the table as Seeley carried on with his act. She left the room and went to get dressed for work, and Helena had to struggle hard to keep from interfering. Surely Hunnigan knew what she was doing, as cruel as it did seem that she just left him to kick and scream on the floor.
By the time she returned, Seeley had dropped the act upon realizing he wouldn't be getting any attention. He sat up, still hiccupping and sniffling, and raised his arms, reaching toward Hunnigan. She grabbed a paper towel and wiped his red little face from tears and snot before picking him up in her arms.
"Are you done?" she asked from the boy as she hugged him to herself rubbing his back, and he nodded slowly. "You gonna go get ready?" she continued.
"Yes," he muttered.
"Okay, good," Hunnigan smiled, kissed his cheek repeatedly and carried him to his room to get dressed. When they emerged a few minutes later, Seeley walked up to Charlie and hugged him.
"You know, Charlie will still be here when you get home," Helena offered, hoping it would help tide the boy over the separation.
"He will?" Seeley inquired, turning to look at his mother.
"Mm-hm, yes he will," Hunnigan confirmed with a smile. That seemed to brighten the boy's mood. He hugged Charlie once more, went to pick up his things and Hunnigan went to help him with his shoes.
"Make yourself at home, here's my spare key and the key to the storage unit if you want to go check up on your stuff," Hunnigan then said and handed Helena the keys.
"Thank you," she smiled.
"Call me if you need anything," Hunnigan said and shouldered her laptop bag.
"I think I'll manage," Helena chuckled.
"Yeah, but still, you know. Okay, ready to go, buddy?" Hunnigan then turned her attention to her son and he nodded, reached to take her hand and they walked out.
When a biosecurity officer at BWI airport forwarded the DSO information about a passenger who had been caught carrying an unknown biological agent on his person, she had no idea that by doing so she'd be ruining the rest of Ingrid Hunnigan's day and for reasons that were not obvious. Had this happened a few months ago, Hunnigan's job would've been simple; she would've needed to allocate some resources and transportation allowing her agents to deploy, give them the assignment and wait for updates before writing the final report upon closing the case and submitting said report to her superior officer who would file it away with the other closed cases to be brought up again when discussing funding and agency efficiency, their win-lose-ratio.
Those had been the simpler times when she'd had the pleasure of working with a pair of agents who were here to do their jobs rather than made it their mission in life to make Hunnigan's job annoying to do. Division of Security Operations special agent Mary Skylark, however, was an agent who fell into the latter category.
"Here's the receipts for the travel expenses you wanted, put them in the system for me, would you?" she said as she tossed a bulging unsealed envelope on Hunnigan's desk before taking a seat with her partner Hawke who had arrived with her to be briefed on the upcoming mission.
"Sure thing, honey; would you like me to tie your shoelaces for you too?" Hunnigan said sweetly and Hawke burst out laughing. Skylark gave her partner the stink eye and caught the envelope when Hunnigan threw it back at her.
"I know you like to believe otherwise, but I'm still your superior officer, and I think I've been rather generous with your constant overstepping the boundaries, but I've had enough."
"You're pulling rank?" Skylark laughed.
"I'm simply wondering why you are expressing such difficulty doing the job you've been doing for several years now, and thinking that if you need me to do your job for you, maybe you should consider finding employment elsewhere."
"Well, how about you do your job and brief me," Skylark retorted and Hunnigan could see how much she struggled to keep herself from finishing the sentence in the word "bitch".
"You're going to Maryland," Hunnigan began and handed the agents the folders containing the paperwork with the details. She briefed them with what little information she had and sent them on their way. Once the briefing was over, Skylark left the room without as much as a word of goodbye, but Hawke lingered and Hunnigan gave her a questioning look.
"I was just wondering how Helena's doing. I tried texting her but she didn't respond, so I figured she didn't feel up to talking," Hawke said.
"I think it's likely she never got the message because she had to get a new phone and a new number."
"Oh, okay."
"Do you want me to give her your number?" Hunnigan asked, rather choosing to offer that than straight up give Helena's new number away; she didn't know if Helena wanted it being shared, even if there was no reason to assume she didn't, at least not as far as Hunnigan knew.
"Yeah, I'd appreciate that, thanks," Hawke smiled and then exited the office.
Hunnigan took her glasses off, sighed deeply and rubbed the irritated spots behind her ears, feeling the by now very familiar indentations left behind by her glasses, and knowing without even looking that she had a set of those on the sides of her nose too. She had considered going in for the laser surgery but after reading about the risks, she'd ultimately decided against it; even the slight possibility of ending up with serious nerve damage in her eyes was enough to convince her it wasn't worth it.
Besides, she typically only needed her glasses when reading, writing or driving, so as uncomfortable as they got when she wore them the entire day nonstop, it wasn't a big glanced at her watch and decided to call it a day, packed her laptop and set her phone to synchronize with her email so she'd get notifications if something happened. She walked out of the office and to her car, and the longer time passed, the more she found herself internally seething.
Since she was the type who tended to avoid confrontation even if it meant letting people get away with being dicks, being privately agitated to the point of wanting to commit murder was not a new feeling to her by any means, and she doubted she was the only person in the world who felt that way either. Ever since she'd been forced to work with Skylark on a daily basis, however, the feeling of silent rage had become almost a constant companion, and she caught herself muttering obscenities and insults and having daydreams about kicking the shit out of Skylark more often than she liked to admit.
Is this anger and the desperate urge to hit something what Helena has to live with every day? I mean, I've barely got a temper and I'm struggling to keep it together, how has she not snapped any more than she has? Hunnigan mused as she got into the car and drove out of the underground parking lot. She picked up Seeley from the daycare center and drove home, chatting with him about his day which he'd apparently spent mostly anxiously waiting to go home to play with Helena's dog.
When they got home, Seeley dropped his things at the door and hurried inside to find Charlie. Sighing, Hunnigan picked up his backpack and put it aside before heading into her bedroom to change out of the suit she was wearing. When she left the room a few minutes later dressed in a white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, she realized she could smell food. She let out a happy sigh at the thought because frankly the last thing she'd felt like doing after work was cooking.
"Welcome home," Helena greeted her when she entered the kitchen.
"You made dinner? Oh, God, I love you so much right now," Hunnigan said, realizing she'd let it slip half a second too late, just like she'd slipped a few months ago when she'd told Helena she was helping her because she loved her. That had been easier to save, though.
Come on, don't make it weird, don't explain, don't pause, don't get awkward or she'll figure out I meant it in that way, Hunnigan mentally scolded herself.
"Uh, yes, yes I did, please, help yourself," Helena smiled.
"Seeley, dinner time," Hunnigan called out.
"In a minute!"
"No, now. You can play with Charlie afterward, okay?"
"But I'm not hungry!"
"All right, fine, have it your way," Hunnigan gave up, too worn out from the constant fighting with Skylark and too hungry to bother arguing with her son. Instead, she grabbed a plate and helped herself to a generous portion of mashed potatoes and a perfectly browned chicken breast. Helena did the same and joined her at the table.
"You know what I just realized? No one's ever made dinner for me before."
"Major didn't cook for you?" Helena asked, the smirk on her face telling she hadn't expected as much.
"He can barely heat a frozen pizza in the oven," Hunnigan snorted.
"In that case I think he did you a favor by not cooking," Helena chuckled and took a seat at the table. "So, uh, how was work?"
"Skylark was her usual charming self which makes every day ten times more fun," Hunnigan said sarcastically and Helena frowned.
"Why do you have to deal with her?"
"Oh...shit, I forgot to tell you. Shepard made some adjustments and I am now Skylark and Hawke's handler rather than your and Leon's."
"...why?"
"It doesn't matter," Hunnigan dismissed awkwardly.
"In other words it's got something to do with me, most likely it's my fault somehow," Helena deduced and Hunnigan sighed.
"No, and no. It's something he decided based on my performance, so it's my own fault if someone needs to be blamed, which they don't."
"Well, it's not like I've been much use to the agency in a long while, and God only knows when I'm allowed back, Wilkes doesn't seem to be in a hurry to clear me," Helena muttered.
"Which she shouldn't unless it's certain that you're ready. I know you're impatient, but please, just...take the time, recover properly. Please."
"...it's not like I have a choice...but thanks," Helena smiled wryly.