Author's Note: Sorry these updates are taking so long! I may only have my cat to betaread, but I am slightly obsessive with the way that things flow. If a chapter doesn't feel "right", it's going to get rewritten - probably several times. There is more to come...I just can't say when.
To all that took the time to review and add me or any of my stories to a favorites list and/or an alert list...thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Knowing that other people are as interested in where this goes as I am flatters me and makes putting these words on (electronic) paper much more worthwhile. Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms (I continue to learn with all I do) and my PM inbox is always open, if you find deeper flaws than you feel a review can handle. :0)
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, the ideas of characters and/or plotlines in relation to Warehouse 13. They remain in the (currently) capable hands of the SyFy network.
Pete shifted in his seat uncomfortably, waiting for the captain to turn off the seatbelt light. Jinks was next to him, quietly reading a magazine and glancing over at him every so often. Pete knew he should probably say something, make a joke out of the tension that was there between them, but he didn't have the energy. Steve would know it was a lie anyway - stupid lie detector ability, he hated that, he really did.
He didn't want to be here, after some stupid artifact that, according to the folder he'd browsed quickly when Myka had finally fallen into a fitful sleep late last night, hadn't even been active in the past two weeks. This whole thing felt like a stupid wild goose chase and he was angry beyond rational thought. Claudia could have handled this mission with Jinks without a problem and Pete could be back at the Warehouse, doing what he was supposed to be doing – taking care of his partner and finding the man and thing that did this to her.
Steve cleared his throat and closed his magazine. "So, are we going to talk about the giant elephant trying to squeeze in this seat between us?" Pete opened his mouth to respond and Steve held up his hand as he continued. "Allow me to place a preemptive strike on anything resembling the words and sentiments of 'I'm fine,' 'it doesn't matter,' 'I'm not worried,' and-slash-or 'I'm not wishing that Claudia was here instead of me, or Myka was here instead of you.' They are all lies."
Pete shook his head and sighed. "It's not you, man, really. And we both know I'd rather not be here right now. I'd just feel more useful if I was back there finding him and fixing this. And what if something happens and she needs me and I'm in freaking Orlando, Florida?"
"I know what you mean," Steve nodded his head in understanding. "I can't imagine how hard it is to see your partner this way – I don't know what I'd do if Claudia…" he trailed off and sighed. "I wish I knew Myka better. She doesn't seem to like me much right now."
Pete winced, remembering Myka's less than pleased reaction the first time he and Jinks had gone to the Warehouse together for inventory and left Myka with Leena back at the Bed and Breakfast. He was pretty sure he still lacked a small percentage of his hearing in his left ear from that episode. "She's really not like that when she's herself, man. She didn't have a lot of people that stuck around when she was growing up and those that did weren't always the most 'emotionally connected'. At least that's what Leena says." He shrugged.
"I'm sure we'll get along just fine when she feels better," Steve offered. "But I'll keep trying. She didn't seem to mind helping me make those cookies for you the other night, and she did ask me to go to the library with her and Claudia the other day. Though, Claud may have put her up to that one." He grinned at the memory and then peered at Pete, who was glancing out the window with a wistful expression. "You're really very important to her."
Pete shrugged noncommittally and sighed. "We just need to close this case as fast as possible so I can get back."
"The Farnsworths do have a two way function, you know," Jinks pointed out. "I know it isn't the same, but it is something, right? And I brought my laptop with me, just in case this takes more than a day or two. Claudia helped me set up Skype so that Myka can actually see you on something bigger than that itty bitty window. Plus it's color."
Pete's throat constricted, listening to the plans their friends had made to keep him connected with Myka while Artie forced him to be half a country away. He forgot sometimes that this was hard on them too. "Thanks," he said roughly. "I appreciate it. A lot."
Steve just nodded. "Not a lie," he said, opening up his magazine to continue the article he'd been reading. "I'm impressed." Pete smiled slightly and then pulled the folder Artie had given him out of his backpack. If he wanted to get in and out of here, they were going to have to do this right, and that meant knowing exactly what he was getting in to. It was going to be a long flight.
It was cold and she could see her breath as she blew into her hands, trying to warm them. Where were her gloves? She was normally more prepared than this. Come to think of it, where was her partner? "Pete?" she called out, her voice trembling slightly. "Where are you?"
She was in the middle of the road in a town so deserted, she expected a tumbleweed to roll by any moment. All the colors looked dull and lifeless, even though the sun was so bright overhead she had to shade her eyes to see. She was on edge, like she was waiting for something, though she couldn't quite remember what. Where was she, and where in the hell was Pete?
A crash behind her sent her heart racing, and she whipped around as she reached for the tesla that was normally in her side holster, only to find it missing instead. Had she given it to Pete? She couldn't remember, and she didn't appear to have the Farnsworth, and that was supposed to be the trade for fraks' sake! "Pete?" she called out again, hoping to see her partner appear from around a corner. This place was creepy and she just wanted to go home.
A figure burst out of a store on the very end of the block with Pete hot on his heels. As they passed her, she could see that the man Pete was chasing was clutching an old pocket watch in one hand and she knew without a doubt that it was an artifact and the reason she was here (wherever here was.) Without any further hesitation, she took off after them.
Their suspect was fast, but they were quickly gaining on him. He looked over his shoulder and detoured quickly to his left when he saw how close they were. Pete skidded trying to make the sharp turn and slid in the wet mud that was puddled on the ground. She paused as he tried to regain his footing, but he waved her on with an impatient, "I'm fine, Mykes, go!"
She doubled her speed to gain back the ground she'd lost to check on Pete and caught up to the suspect in a matter of minutes. She followed him around another corner and stopped short when she realized he was just standing there, waiting for her with his hat in one hand and the pocket watch in the other.
"Well hey there, pretty lady," he drawled slowly. Midwestern, she noted quickly - maybe Kentucky. Why did it suddenly feel so important to remember that? "I think I've got somethin' you've been looking for." He flipped the pocket watch into the air and she watched it tumble over itself, almost in slow motion. She expertly caught it and reached in her pocket for a snagbag but came up empty. How did Pete get everything, anyway?
Frustrated, she turned around and yelled out, "Pete? I got it. Hurry!" What was taking him so long? They hadn't gone that far, had they? The man behind her cleared his throat and she turned to face him again, slightly surprised that he was still there. Most suspects didn't stick around once they'd ditched the artifact. "Uh…thanks," she said, holding up the watch. "I appreciate your help."
The man laughed and walked towards her. "Now don't say that, little darlin'. I'm not quite finished being 'helpful' to you yet. What's your name?" Myka looked over her shoulder as she stepped back a pace or two, nervously wishing for Pete to appear. "Aw, you ain't scared of lil ole me, are ya? Come on now, Myka, don't be like that. I'm just helping."
"H-h-how do you know my name?" He was right on top of her now, so close she could smell his breath. Where in the hell was Pete? "I think you've helped enough, really, thanks." Really, she wanted to know how Pete ended up with the Tesla and the Farnsworth and the snagbags because she was feeling incredibly out of her element right now and that made her angry. "You can step back now."
"Now, now, lil miss," the man tutted. "I said I had somethin' you were lookin' for. I didn't say I was quite done with it yet." He put his hat on his head – a fedora, it looked like a fedora, she needed to remember that – and smiled at her. "I'll be taking that back now. And a little something else for my trouble." She tilted her head at him quizzically, opening her mouth to call for Pete again, when the watch started to vibrate in her hand.
She looked at it in horror when it started to turn backwards. She felt like her life was slipping away as she was shrouded in a mist that was heavy and oppressive. It was hard to breathe, and she suddenly realized she was flat on her back. How did that happen? Why was it so hard to think? Her thoughts were muddled, she couldn't get them straight. Where was Pete? She was alone, she didn't want to be alone, she was afraid!
There was a warm puff of air in her face and she felt the man take the watch out her hand. She struggled to keep her eyes open but they grew heavier and heavier. He was saying something, what was he saying? It was important, she could feel it. "Listen and remember, Myka, remember, remember…" she scolded herself.
She felt her memories slipping and sliding and leaving her and she tried to hold on but it was all happening so fast. She was alone, so cold and alone, and Pete, where was Pete? Vaguely she heard Pete calling for her and he sounded worried, so worried, and she tried to answer but it all felt so far away and she was so cold and alone.
"Pete!" She tried to call for him, tried to make him materialize, make him take her away somewhere where it was warm and maybe they could be with Claudia and Artie an' Leena an' Jinks 'n' where was he, she was alone, so alone, she didn't want to be alone. "Pete! Pete…Pete..."
"PETE!" Myka sat straight up in bed, screaming for her partner. Her heart was racing and her head was pounding out a beat like a big bass drum. Looking around, she was confused – this was not her room. What was she doing in Pete's room?
Her dream – no, her nightmare – has scared her badly and left her with the niggling feeling that she needed to remember it, had to write it down before it all slipped away. She felt engulfed, as if in a fog, and she scrambled out of bed towards Pete's nightstand, hoping to find a Farnsworth or her mobile or a notepad and pen, anything to get this down and out of her head.
Her hands closed over Pete's spare mobile, always left in his drawer as a backup for when he inevitably smashed his current one to pieces (after the third time it happened, Artie forced him to get the pay-as-you-go phone for backup so there was always the spare.) With shaking fingers, Myka pressed the button to turn it on, praying that it had already been activated. Her head was spinning and she knew that it wasn't going to be long before she passed out and forgot everything about her nightmare.
She sighed with relief when the phone lit up and indicated that there were currently 20.5 units left. Struggling back onto Pete's bed, she dialed the number she knew by heart. Dizziness came over her in a wave and she swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat. She had to talk to Pete, had to tell him the things from her nightmare before they were lost to the rising tide her in mind. Her partner would understand, would help her make sense of this.
"Hello. Pete Lattimer broke his phone – again – so you've reached his fridge. Leave your name and number very slowly and I'll write it on a post-it note to stick to myself. He'll eventually call you back." Myka groaned in frustration. Only Pete would have such a childish message – and only Pete would manage to not answer his phone the one time she really needed him too. She felt the cloud of exhaustion and forgetfulness creeping over her again and knew she wasn't going to be able to fight it much longer.
"Pete, I had a dream – a memory – about the artifact. It was a watch Pete, he was holding a watch, and then he said – something, he said something about forgetting and grownups – Pete, it's h'ppenin' 'gain and I can't – " tears came to her eyes and she struggled over the lump in her throat. "Kentucky, Midwest, hat, tall, scary. And then it was cold 'n' he was gone 'n' you w're gone 'n' I need…" She tamped down on her rising desperation and confusion as she fought to hold on to her rapidly dissolving coherency.
She took a deep breath. "Please, Pete. Come 'n' make it better. Please?" Her voice trailed off and she felt the phone slipping from her grasp as she laid her head on the pillow. She wanted to get up – wanted to find Artie or Claudia or someone, anyone – wanted to fight against whatever it was that was doing this to her, but the fog that had been threatening to overtake her for the last five minutes could be held back no longer. She slid into the deep blackness, knowing her partner would be fighting tooth and nail to fix this, and hoping against hope that it wasn't too late.