Hunnigan had read through the pages containing the details of the physical and emotional abuse Helena had suffered at her grandmother's hands (all the way from demeaning her by calling her useless, worthless, fat, disgusting, and stupid to beating her with a wooden hairbrush, forcing her to take scalding hot baths, whipping her with a leather belt and letting the wounds get infected, and denying her food -especially things that would've been considered treats) when she arrived to a blank page. She found herself thankful for that pause; she hadn't realized it but reading the details of Helena's childhood had made her cry.

So much suffering. So much pain and guilt inflicted upon a child who hadn't done anything to deserve it. Hunnigan couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of a monster would do that to a kid. She couldn't fathom such viciousness, she'd rather chew on razor blades, drink a gallon of acid, and light herself on fire than ever treat her son the way Frances Harper had treated Helena.

"All right," Hunnigan sighed a little and turned the page. By the time she was done reading the painfully detailed descriptions of Sergeant Kassandra Good's vile actions, Hunnigan felt like throwing up (and not just because apparently one of Good's nastier habits had been to forgo taking care of intimate hygiene prior to forcing Helena to perform oral sex on her) and like she needed to take a bath in bleach to ever feel clean again.

If I feel this terrible just reading it, imagine how much worse it had to be experiencing it...at seventeen...after you've thought you'd finally found a way to get out of your abusive childhood home. Oh God.

She took a long moment to compose herself and wait for the sickening feeling to pass before stepping out of the bedroom. In the living room, Helena was busy teaching Seeley to blow bubbles into his chocolate milk.

"Look what I can do!" he yelled proudly upon seeing his mother and proceeded to blow into the straw. Unfortunately, he blew too hard and ended up spraying most of his drink on the table.

"Yeah, proud of you, buddy," Hunnigan laughed, went to the kitchen and grabbed a wet dishcloth. She threw it to Helena who accepted cleaning it up as her duty since she'd encouraged the boy to begin with.

"You can't blame me, I never got to do that as a kid," Helena said and Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.
"Is this gonna become a thing now, you get up to all kinds of shenanigans with my son and justify it by stating you didn't get to do it as a kid, which I'll have to let go because I know it's probably true?"

"Yes. Sometimes I might throw in a reminder of how poor we were, too. Like, I didn't get to play pitching pennies because we didn't have enough pennies," Helena said very seriously and threw the dishcloth back to Hunnigan.
"Oh, my God," she laughed and went to rinse it.

Seeley lost his interest in the chocolate milk and reached for his markers. He struggled to open the plastic case containing the colorful plethora of markers, and Helena offered to open it for him.

"Leina's a big girl to do it all by herself!" Seeley informed his mother, only it sounded more like he was saying " Leena's a biggurl do all by hesself!"

Helena had confessed to Hunnigan she couldn't quite understand everything Seeley said, and Hunnigan had made a habit of repeating the gist of his words for her convenience, but she didn't think it necessary in this case.

"Here you go, little dude," Helena smiled and handed him the markers.
"Thank you!" he said happily and got to work on his coloring book.

"I finished reading...your book," Hunnigan said as she took a seat on the couch next to Helena.
"Yeah, figured. Would you mind if I said I don't really want to talk about it?"

"Of course not, frankly...I'd prefer that myself. Your descriptions of the events didn't exactly leave a lot of questions unanswered and it's not like I want any more details."
"Okay, good. Hey, um...do you think there's any chance I could go visit Hawke in quarantine?" Helena changed the subject and Hunnigan sighed a little.

It wasn't that she didn't want to help Helena visit her friend, but it was becoming a hassle. Hunnigan only had so much pull left at the DSO after everything she'd already done for Helena. Then again, Helena hadn't asked her to pull strings for her before, so Hunnigan couldn't blame it on her.

"I'll see what I can do," she nodded.
"Thank you. I know I'm out of favors to ask from you, and I'm sorry, I don't want you to think you have to do anything because—"

"If I didn't want to, I'd let you know, don't worry about it," Hunnigan promised with a smile and leaned to kiss Helena's cheek.
"How's your arm?" Helena then asked.

"Better, especially since you've been forcing me to keep up with the exercises, my physical therapist appreciates your help with that," Hunnigan smirked.
"You'll learn to appreciate it too when you'll be able to lift your arm above your head again," Helena smirked back.

Hunnigan was scheduled to see a doctor later that week and see if it would be safe to stop using the brace completely. Her shoulder was rather stiff and there were some aches and pains that remained, but she didn't think keeping her arm strapped down much longer would do any good, the bone should by now be as healed as it would get, especially with the plates that were put in. Now it was just a matter of working to get her mobility back. Who would've guessed that would turn out to be the hard part.

"Really I just want to be able to move it enough to be able to hug you properly," Hunnigan said and Helena chuckled.
"Well, aren't you a big old softie," she smiled and leaned into Hunnigan's side as she put her uninjured arm around Helena's shoulders.

Truthfully, it was less about her being soft and more about her not knowing what else to do. All she could do was be there, and it bothered her greatly that she wasn't able to properly hug Helena when all she wanted was to hold Helena to her chest, keep her safe and sound, ensure she'd never have to feel the kind of fear and pain she'd lived through before.

"I'm gonna get dinner started," Helena then said and went to the kitchen.
"Nice, what are we having?"

"Sour cream mashed potatoes with bacon," Helena replied over the sound of water running into the pot.

"Hey kid. Wanna see something cool?" she then asked, standing at the kitchen entrance, and Seeley turned to look at her.
"What?" he asked and Helena proceeded to juggle with three potatoes, eliciting an amazed exhale from the boy who then immediately insisted she teaches him to do that.

"I didn't know you could juggle," Hunnigan commented.

"I learned at the, uh, hospital, this girl Sera taught me. She said it helps with depression, not sure how effective it is, but it's a fun distraction at least," Helena explained, her eyes focused on the potatoes in the air. When she stopped, she failed to catch the third potato, but Seeley saved it by reaching his arms out and catching the potato into an awkward hug.

"We'll practice with two for a start, okay?" Helena smiled after putting the rest of the potatoes into the boiling water.

"Okay!" Seeley confirmed and promptly threw both potatoes in the air simultaneously, and laughed at the wince on Helena's face when she almost got hit with one.
"Uhp, okay, nope, not quite, try one at a time, like this," she said, put the potatoes into Seeley's hands and held onto his wrists, lifting one, then the other a moment later to show him the rhythm he should start with.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Helena then asked Hunnigan who was staring at the two of them, unable to stop smiling.
"I just love you."

"I can't believe you did heroin," Helena exclaimed as she sat on the edge of the bed, reading Hunnigan's equivalent of her journal.

"Very briefly. Also, some of the stuff in there could get me fired, so I'd appreciate it if you never mentioned it to anyone once you're done reading it," Hunnigan said, glancing at Helena through the mirror. Hunnigan sat in front of the bureau and removed her earring and watch, and put them in the jewelry box in front of her.

"Yeah, I wasn't gonna," Helena rolled her eyes. "So, what's it like? Because I've only gotten the ABC Afterschool specia l-version of drugs, let's hear it from an honest, former junkie. Also, I have a difficult time imagining you injecting heroin," she continued and went to Hunnigan. Helena then proceeded to mime holding up a microphone in front of Hunnigan's face.

"First of all, I was not a junkie, I wasn't addicted and only did it a handful of times," Hunnigan elaborated in a scoff and swatted Helena's hand away. "Secondly, I didn't inject it, I snorted it...which makes it a bit less addictive than injecting it, so remember that if you ever intend to try it. And finally, it made me feel like I was a kitten sleeping in a warm basket of laundry."

"...that sounds pretty great actually."
"It is, which is why you should never do it...more than once. Or...five—...fifteen times."

"Ingrid Hunnigan! I can't believe you."
"Oh, get off your high horse."

"Pun intended, my horse isn't high, I've never done anything harder than vodka," Helena sniffed. "Also, I think you were being intentionally obtuse writing some of these, 'The FBI has my nudes', what is that supposed to mean? That your ex-husband has naked pictures of you? Because if he does, I'll be disappointed in you, you should know better," she quirked an eyebrow and Hunnigan chuckled.

"No, that's a long story I didn't feel like writing out, and it happened before I met Major. So, as you know, I kind of dated the drummer of our band."
"Mel, yes, I remember," Helena said, not letting it show she'd known about that a lot longer than she wanted to admit.

"Once high school was over, everyone sort of went their separate ways, but I stayed in closer touch with Mel for a while after moving to D.C. and as one might expect things to go in long-distance relationships, certain kinds of photographs came into play. Nothing you'd be able to recognize me from, by the way, because I'm not stupid."

"And Mel gave them to the FBI for shits and giggles?" Helena smirked and Hunnigan laughed, shaking her head. She the tugged on the chest of her collared shirt, the gesture having formed into a silent cue between the two of them, and Helena smiled as she knelt in front of Hunnigan and began unbuttoning her shirt, the act had become a routine they'd both grown to quite enjoy.

"No, what happened was her computer was confiscated by the FBI when they raided her family's house. And the reason for the raid was that a family friend of theirs turned out to be a serial killer. Well, suspect at the time, so the Feds went around questioning everyone he'd ever met or emailed, and that included Mel's family. And thus, since her computer with my nudes on it was confiscated by the FBI, they are or were at that point in possession of my nudes."

"...that was not where I expected this story to go," Helena said as she hung the shirt on the back of a chair.
"I can tell," Hunnigan chuckled and stood up. "Was there anything else you wanted me to elaborate on?"

"Nothing right now."
"Okay. Hey, um...about what you went through...I just want to say I can't even imagine what that had to be like, and I wish I could just...undo it somehow."

"Yeah, well, it happened, but it's over, and I'm fine-ish now, so...don't even worry about it."
"I just..." Hunnigan began but paused for a long moment, looking for the words. Helena appreciated the sentiment but she didn't need to hear Hunnigan tell her she wanted to go back and make it right, she didn't need anyone to erase her past, she didn't want pity because of what she'd lived through. She wanted to be understood, and accepted, that was it. To her surprise, Hunnigan didn't give her the tired old "white knight"-act.

Instead she took Helena's hand into her own and said: "I'm sorry that happened to you."

And that was when Helena realized that was all she'd ever wanted to hear someone say to her about it.

"Thank you."
"You know what we should do?" Hunnigan then said after a long moment of silence during which they'd wordlessly agreed that was all they would speak of regarding Helena's past, for the night anyway.

"What?"
"We should go somewhere. Take a little vacation. I know we don't have a lot of free time, but maybe a quick weekend trip."

"Well...I've been wanting to go visit Pittsburgh," Helena said and Hunnigan's eyebrows rose in question.
"Pitts...Pittsburgh? I meant more like... Venice or... Paris," she listed, then shook her head. "No, scratch that, not Paris, the entire city smells of piss."

"That cannot be true," Helena laughed.
"It is! The people there...well, men typically, literally piss on the street."

"That is disgusting."
"I know, so if you ever find yourself deployed in Paris, don't step in a puddle."

"Then why are the French so uppity if their best known city is literally a piss bucket?" Helena frowned.

"Va savoir pourquoi," Hunnigan shrugged.
"And bibbidi-bobbidi-boo to you too," Helena rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Oh, great, now that's playing in my head," Hunnigan groaned, put her arm around Helena's midsection and pulled her closer.
"What is?" she frowned when Hunnigan leaned into her.

"Salagadoola means mechicka booleroo, but the thingamabob that does the job is bibbidi-bobbidi-boo," Hunnigan hummed into Helena's ear with a smile as she swayed them to the rhythm of the song. Helena pressed the side of her face against Hunnigan's shoulder and held onto her, trying to keep up with the steps because as slow as they were, she wasn't much of a dancer.

"Also, I gotta point out it's highly unlikely I'd be deployed in Paris, I don't work for the DSO anymore, remember?" Helena reminded her as they slow danced in the bedroom to a silent song.
"I don't understand how I keep forgetting that," Hunnigan sighed. "So, why Pittsburgh?" she then asked, stopped and pulled back a little to be able to look at Helena.

"Because in my last session with Doctor Wilkes, she suggested I go visit my grandmother's grave. I've never been, wasn't at her funeral either. Something about closure or whatever, and since I'm out of sessions with Wilkes, I figured that'll have to do as therapy," Helena said somewhat dismissively, not believing that seeing her grandmother's grave would make her feel any better about everything that she did to her, but she supposed it was worth a shot. If nothing else, she could perform a little jig on it.

"Pittsburgh it is then," Hunnigan nodded. "And what do you mean you're out of sessions?"
"Uh, again, I don't work for the DSO anymore. Therapy with Wilkes was paid for by the agency's health insurance, I'm a wannabe-EMT volunteering at a hospital, I've got a couple of hundred bucks in my account and another in my pocket from selling some of my furniture on Craigslist, so it's not like I can afford to continue seeing Wilkes," Helena laughed.

"Well, I could—"
"No!" Helena interrupted immediately. "I will not let you pay for it."

"I wasn't offering to, I can't afford it either, I'm nearly forty thousand in medical debt myself thanks to my heart and this fuckin' arm," Hunnigan chuckled, shaking her head as she went to bed, and Helena joined her.

"Our health insurance system is a fucking joke."
"I know. I can pay mine off relatively easily once Nolan pays me my royalties, plus I've got a decent job; I don't know how people less well off do it."

"We walk it off, and if we can't, we duct tape ourselves back together," Helena smiled.

It was only a slight exaggeration. She couldn't even tell how often she'd replaced antibiotics with garlic, honey and occasionally cranberry juice rather than go see a doctor about an obvious infection. Frankly, for most of her life prior to the army, she hadn't exactly had a choice.

"Anyway, what I was saying was I could marry you, and voilá, you're back on the DSO health insurance plan since it covers the agents' spouses," Hunnigan said, settling to lay back on the bed, seemingly unaware of the utterly shocked look of disbelief Helena gave her.

"...you would marry me?" Helena repeated, dumbfounded.

"I know, you'd probably want to do it for the right reasons, but right now I think your mental health should be a priority. We can get divorced later, or if you want, we can...pretend we never got married and have a proper ceremony and the rest if we decide to 'really' get married. What do you say?"

Hunnigan was right, Helena did want to get married for the right reasons, but her wrong reason wasn't exactly wrong either. Most importantly, the thought of being Hunnigan's wife, even if it was just for health insurance —for now anyway— was quite...exciting. She'd never admit it out loud, and while she certainly wasn't the type who'd spend hours writing "Mrs. Helena So-and-So" in the margins of her notebooks, the idea of being someone's wife was oddly appealing.

A part of her was appalled at her blatant willingness to submit to such an institution, but the majority of her felt a little flutter in her chest when she thought about casually being able to refer to someone —-namely, Hunnigan— as the wife. She hadn't thought about marriage much beyond that because she'd never expected it to happen to her. She'd never expected to find anyone who would love her and would want to be with her, let alone marry her.

When they'd begun dating, Helena had fully expected Hunnigan to come to her senses and realize she was way out of Helena's league. She'd expected Hunnigan to get bored with her, get tired of all her problems and issues, become exhausted by having to always be the one to pick Helena up and dust her off. But she hadn't. She'd barely ever even lost her patience with Helena, and she couldn't understand how that was possible.

Helena wasn't used to being cared for, she wasn't used to being supported, being loved unconditionally. She hadn't thought it would ever happen to her. Everything in her life up until rather recently had been just one unfortunate and tragic event after another, she'd gotten used to the idea that maybe that was what her entire life would be like, just perpetual sadness and fury.

Then Hunnigan had shown up and taught her to see beyond that, taught her to believe there could be more and that she deserved better. She had changed everything, and Helena was certain she didn't even know how much she'd done.

"...okay."
"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. If you're willing to have yourself legally bound to my stupid ass, why would I say no?" Helena laughed and Hunnigan smiled.
"Oh, wait, I actually have something for this," she then realized and got out of bed. She rummaged around the bureau's drawer and took out a small box. She opened it and inside was a pair of rings made of wood.

"These are proposal-rings, they're made to serve as a placeholder for a proper ring, so you don't have to necessarily know your future spouse's ring size to a millimeter, and also don't have to worry about whether they like the ring or not since this is only temporary," Hunnigan explained as she got back into bed.

"You just keep such things around?" Helena smirked.
"They were a bonus item I got one time I spent an obscene amount of money at an online jewelry store, and I couldn't remove them from the shopping cart before checking out, so," Hunnigan shrugged.

"Amazingly, this is still the most romantic moment of my life," Helena jested.

It wasn't entirely true, she felt she'd had a lot of moments with Hunnigan she could be considered romantic in one way or the other, but most of them were from before they'd even begun dating. She wasn't entirely certain those would count.

"I'll do it properly the next time, with a grand gesture and everything," Hunnigan promised with a smile as she slipped the wooden ring onto Helena's finger and kissed her.