"It's not the same at all, but… but it's not totally different either... Does that make sense?"

/

Bethany Jackson doesn't look like someone who would want to trade one world for another; there's a nice car in the driveway and a good job waiting on Monday mornings.

Bethany Jackson has a life, with amiable co-workers and casual friends; she has a gym membership and a wild flower garden in the backyard.

But there are always reasons for the unexplainable things that people do.

There is always a reason why an artifact will send out a siren song to someone – a call that just cannot be ignored.

/

"…It's kind of like you're in the most surreal and most wonderful dream of your entire life, where up can be down and right can be left… and people who are gone are back again. I knew it wasn't real, I did… but it just didn't matter…"

/

Bethany Jackson was only fifteen when her parents died.

Twenty years later and she is still wounded; she still has nightmares with flashing blue lights and crushed metal stained red. Twenty years later and she is still hurting; she is still hoping to one day turn a corner and find her parents alive again.

It could have been simple happenstance that brought the ruby-red slippers into her life.

But on that Saturday, catching a glimpse of the shoes in the window of some pawn shop, it reminded her of the movie. And in thinking about the movie, Bethany's thoughts turned towards her mother, towards her father, towards the life that was torn away from her so long ago.

Everyone else would call it coincidence but Bethany called it kismet.

/

"…They were there, just like they used to be. And when I would reach out to, you know, hug one of them… I'd feel their arms around me and… why would I want to come back here? Why would I want to return to a life without them?"

/

Myka cannot sleep.

This is not the first time that rest hasn't come easily to her. There have been countless dawns that she has greeted with bleary eyes; too busy pondering the past and too concerned with the future.

Back when Sam died.

Back when she left the Warehouse.

And now there is tonight. Perhaps even several nights before. Maybe more than a few nights last week.

Myka isn't ready to think about the reasons why she is staying awake, though.

No, not yet…

She places bare feet onto the hallway floor, careful of where she steps so as to not alert anyone to her moving around. She has worked out a routine – wait until one or two in the morning then slip downstairs; she'll proceed to curl up on the couch, turn on the lamp, and read until that familiar sensation of weary heat fills up her gaze. Doing this leaves her too tired to fight against herself, too tired to analyze her feelings, and too tired to sort out all the explanations for her actions.

However, this particular night just isn't going according to plan.

Midway down the stairs, Myka hears the faint click-click-click of keys being typed upon and she internally debates her next move – to continue on and possibly get into a discussion about why she is up at all? Or to turn around and stare at a dark wall until the sun illuminates it? She runs a hand through her hair and sighs heavily, deciding that a potentially awkward conversation is better than watching the shadows slowly crawl around her bedroom.

Somehow, Myka isn't too surprised to see that it is Claudia who is sharing her inability to sleep.

Myka watches the younger girl for a moment, a bit of silent observation before announcing her presence; noticing the way red hair falls unceremoniously into the eyes, eyes that are unblinking upon the screen of a softly humming laptop; recognizing the speed at which the fingers move over the keyboard, never once pausing and never missing a beat.

And then Myka's gaze shifts to the coffee-table where Johann Maelzel's metronome sits.

It's the elephant in the room – everyone sees it and yet no one says a word; everyone knows that Claudia's sadness has metastasized into something far more deadly. But objections seem to dry up on the tongue and preaching about how things will improve (one day, someday, it has to…) comes out sounding like the biggest of lies.

Because there is no guarantee that things will get better; there is only the promise that time will continue to move on.

Whether you survive that subtle transition or not is anyone's guess.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

Claudia has not turned around, nor has she stopped typing on the laptop, but her voice breaks through the fog of quiet around them and Myka directs her stare to the floor anyway – a tad sheepish at being caught.

"What are you up to?" Myka asks softly, taking somewhat hesitant steps towards the back of the couch that Claudia has taken up residence on.

"A little bit of this and that." Claudia responds, but with an aloof tone to her voice that used to not exist. "What about you, Myka? What's with the midnight creeper act?"

Myka automatically shrugs her shoulders in reply before she remembers that Claudia is not looking at her, so her voice scrambles to catch up to the inquiry.

"Just not tired I guess."
"Seems to be an epidemic around here lately."
"What do you mean?"

Claudia shuts the laptop, sitting it beside the metronome, and finally swivels her body around so that the two of them are face-to-face.

"Well, I've been up a couple of nights myself. Heard Artie shuffling around aimlessly a few times. And now here you are, awake once more."

Someone was bound to notice; someone was sure to see a morning met with dark circles under her eyes. And it shouldn't matter so much to be found out, not when they are all family here – closer than blood, dearer than lovers – but Myka still wraps her arms self-consciously around her stomach.

A small part of the 'old' Claudia surfaces in this moment, a raised eyebrow and a hint of warmth around the corners of the mouth; a bittersweet reminder of how things used to be and of how it seems that they will never be that way again.

The sight of it causes Myka's heart to swell then to break – over and over.

"It's okay. Your secret is safe with me." Claudia assures before getting up from the couch and stretching arms high above her head. Myka nods her head lightly in acknowledgment of Claudia's statement, even as the need to defend her bout of insomnia spills from her lips.

"It's not like I am trying to hide anything from anyone…"
"Like I said, it's okay. I guess we all deal with things in our own way, right?"

And Claudia glances in the direction of the metronome; and Myka tries to find the courage to speak instead of biting her tongue.

"Claudia… does Artie know you have that?"

The glare that hits Myka's face carries the force of an actual blow; one foot loses ground and moves backwards, as if to duck for cover or – worse than that – to run.

"Let's not have this conversation, Myka."

Of course, that is part of the problem; no one is really talking about what has happened. They are all skirting around the subject of loss and of grief. They are all foolishly hoping that the world will have spun itself back to another reality once the sun rises.

They are all stuck in perpetual denial.

And Myka doesn't know if anything she can say will make a difference because she isn't dealing well with this tragedy either.

She's awake when she should be asleep. She's staring at the same line on the same page until daylight turns the black to gray. She's holding on to her own laborious memories; holding on to a series of feelings that she is still too terrified to fully define.

Not yet… Not yet…

Claudia is right; this is probably a conversation they shouldn't be having – not at this hour, not with the two of them so worn down and raw – but it appears to be happening anyway.

"Look, Claudia, I know that everything is messed up right now-"
"Massive understatement."
"—but using an artifact is not the way, okay? You know what they can do, you know the harm that they can cause."
"And what about the harm that the Regents bring down on us, Myka? What about the way they abandoned Steve?"

Steve.

It's not like she doesn't understand where Claudia is coming from. A place of anguish and anger, beating beneath the bones with a fury that is hard to contain – it used to be a heart but now it is just an organ that remembers things all too well. Myka has never been one to turn in that direction, though. Her course of action tends towards a severe internalizing of emotions; keeping them in check and keeping them at bay, until they are gone – or, at the very least, until she can pretend that they are gone.

Claudia, on the other hand, is combusting with rage and it does not take a genius to figure out what the girl is planning to do with that metronome.

In Steve, Myka lost a fellow agent and someone to trust at her back. But Claudia lost a friend. Claudia lost a part of this family. Claudia lost a connection that meant something.

And Myka knows that Claudia is bound and determined to get that connection back.

"Marcus and Sykes killed Steve."
"And Sykes was created by Jane, Myka. How am I supposed to live with the fact that Steve is dead when it could have been prevented? If the Regents had just told us the truth-"
"He was undercover, Claude… He was trying to save the Warehouse—"
"Well, that certainly worked out well, didn't it?"
"Claudia…just listen to me-"

However, Claudia chooses that moment to forgo the physical boundaries between them and is suddenly much closer than before. Myka isn't really one for 'vibes' as that is more of Pete's domain, but the way her spine stiffens in response to Claudia's proximity is telling.

It's not a sensation of being threatened, though. It is the sneaking suspicion that this conversation, this conversation that they probably shouldn't be having right now, is about to take a definite turn.

Myka finds that she is actually holding her breath as she waits for the words that will come down.

"I'm bringing Steve back. And don't you dare tell me that you wouldn't do the same for someone you truly care for…"

It should be thoughts of Sam that flit through Myka's head; it should be the man she loved and lost.

"…for someone who died to protect you…"

But it isn't the image of Sam that plays over and over within Myka's mind; it isn't the recollection of Sam that causes Myka's heart to seize up with pangs of longing and regret.

"…for someone who never knew how you really felt about them."

Myka feels a stinging sort of pressure start to build behind her eyes – a familiar and agonizing sort of burn that will not go away – and she knows that Claudia has unearthed another revelation tonight. Myka knows that what she has tried so hard to keep concealed has bled through anyway – enough for Claudia to see it, maybe even enough for everyone else to see it, too.

And every 'not yet' crumbles to dust when faced with who Myka would save; every 'not yet' fades away when faced with who she'd risk everything for.

For Myka, the whole damn world gives way and disappears when faced with Helena G. Wells.

/ /

TBC