Chapter 4: Blood-stained valentine

Despite Helena's best efforts to bandage the wound, it was still bleeding. Helena rummaged through the first aid kit for another hemostatic bandage, but there was only the one she'd already used.

Okay, option number two... stitches, she mused as she dug out the suture kit, thankful of the fact that the D.S.O. had invested in military grade medical kits.

Push down, curve your wrist, don't pick at the tip. Double-wrap the first tie, and do not let your patient die, Helena thought back the poor rhyme she'd made up when learning suturing techniques in the first place.

She's already lost too much blood, this is a waste of time, Helena then told herself silently, the grim thought taking her by surprise. She ignored it and continued her efforts to close the wound.

"It's probably not gonna leave the prettiest of scars, but... better than the alternative," Helena whispered when she was done.

I'm telling you, stopping the bleeding isn't enough.

"Well, what the hell else am I going to..." Helena began to debate herself when noticed the pouch labeled "FBTK" in the open kit. She reached for it, tore it open and dug the equipment out.

Come on, Helena, keep it together, you've done a field blood transfusion before... granted, just once, but still, she told herself as she fought to find a decent a vein in her arm.

Helena sighed tiredly. This would take a while. She would've wanted to take a nap, but was worried she'd pass out in the middle of the transfusion, and that wouldn't be ideal for anyone. But if she'd just get to rest her eyes for a couple of minutes...

A couple of minutes turned into almost ninety minutes. Helena jolted awake, not because of a noise or a pain or anything else external, but because she suddenly realized she'd forgotten to take something very important into account.

Come on, considering your condition, you must have something on you that... Ah, here, Helena thought frantically as she checked Hunnigan's wrists, ankles and finally her neck and discovered what she was looking for. Her necklace doubled as a medical ID containing information Helena could've used a while ago... not that it really would've made a difference considering that she only had this one option and she would've gone for it regardless.

"Oh, shit," Helena hissed and sighed deeply.

Hunnigan's blood type was A, and that was a problem. Helena knew her own to be O negative, and in theory, she could've donated to practically anyone, but this was a whole blood transfusion. There was no gentle separation of plasma and red blood cells prior to the transfusion, it was all or nothing, straight from her veins to Hunnigan's, and that would become a problem when Hunnigan's immune system would eventually react and rise to arms to fend off the stranger invading the body. The only question now was how bad would it get, would it stay at a mere fever or would it escalate to full-blown organ failure.

"You're such a difficult patient," Helena muttered. She returned to the first aid kit and dug out the IV equipment and an empty bag she'd need to fill up.

"I'm going to head to the kitchen and make some saline. Try not to go anywhere," Helena smirked a little at the unconscious woman.

Hunnigan opened her eyes slowly, it took a her a while to remember what had happened. Actually leaving her post and the HQ felt so unlikely she was almost willing to dismiss it as a vivid dream. She turned to look around and saw Helena slumped in an office chair, apparently asleep. Hunnigan moved to sit up and that's when the pain in her side registered and she noticed the IV catheter stuck in her arm at the elbow, less than elegantly duct taped in place. Judging from the mess of tubes and blood stains on the table and floor, Helena must have performed a transfusion... and judging from the saline that was currently dripping into Hunnigan's vein from the bag high up the wall (also duct taped in place), it hadn't gone as well as it could've. Hunnigan had experienced a transfusion reaction once before, it had been a pain in the ass to deal with. She didn't feel quite as bad as she had then, she took it as a good sign. She felt feverish, but not dizzy or achy... aside from the bullet hole in her side.

"Hey... you owe me a cookie and a cup of juice," Helena grumbled with a smile when she noticed Hunnigan was awake.

"And then some," Hunnigan agreed in a chuckle and grunted then when her side protested to expressing her amusement in such a manner.

"What were you doing out there?" Helena asked with a frown and sat up straight before leaning to rest her elbows on her knees.

"I was just in the neighborhood," Hunnigan smirked, shook her head a little and said more seriously, "I watched you make your way toward the HQ and saw you were about to run into trouble and figured I'd do something useful for a change."

"You do a lot of useful things," Helena quirked an eyebrow and Hunnigan shrugged one shoulder a little.

"Maybe, but in this situation sitting behind a keyboard would've hardly been useful... so I figured I'd give this 'being a hero'-thing a go. Clearly I made a huge mistake," she said, offering a lopsided smile and Helena chuckled a little.

"I was hoping to intercept you before you crossed paths with the looters, but I was late," Hunnigan then added.
"Well, luckily you're a pretty good shot for a desk jockey."

"And you're a surprisingly good doctor for a field agent," Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow.
"I have many skills," Helena shrugged and Hunnigan narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Next thing you'll be telling me you also crochet and know how to moonwalk," she murmured and Helena laughed.
"I was combat medic in the army. I'm surprised you didn't know that, I'm sure it's obvious in my papers," she said.

"Your military career is kind of over-shadowed by your indiscretions at the CIA and USSS," Hunnigan muttered, realizing her words came across a lot meaner than she'd intended them as.

"...right," Helena said slowly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay, it's true. Anyway... thanks for coming to my rescue."
"Thanks for saving my life after I totally screwed up my hero-moment," Hunnigan snorted.

"I like to think we saved each other, so let's call it even," Helena smiled.
"I can live with that," Hunnigan agreed and lowered her feet over the table's edge. Her side hurt like hell, but she certainly had no desire to lie down on the conference room table for any longer than she'd needed to.

"Hey, take it easy..."
"Why are you here?" Hunnigan then asked suddenly and Helena's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"What do you mean why? Where else should I be? I told you, Leon and I escorted Lawson to the CDC lab safe and sound, I had nowhere else to be, so I came back here," she explained.

How convenient that I can't contact Leon to confirm anything you say. How am I supposed to know you're telling me the truth? Of course, if you weren't, maybe you would've let me die... unless you need me for something, Hunnigan thought.

"...hey? What's wrong?" Helena frowned at the older woman when she'd just stared at her for a long moment.

"Nothing," Hunnigan shook her head. Helena wasn't exactly convinced, but didn't bother to argue.
"You should get some rest," she said instead.

"Is that your opinion as a medical professional?" Hunnigan teased and Helena chuckled.

"Yes, and as someone who has gotten shot once or twice in her life herself. Go get some shut eye, and I'll make us something to eat in the meanwhile. I'm a pretty damn good cook even if I say so myself, I can make those survival meal kits into five star gourmet in ten seconds flat," Helena assured with a smile.

"And she cooks as well, the surprises never cease," Hunnigan quirked an eyebrow as she headed toward the break room with slow, careful steps.

"I also know how to play the ukulele," Helena said with exaggerated smugness and pride in a talent that took about an hour to learn, "I told you, I have many skills."

Most people can't handle a week of complete solitude let alone a month. Granted, Hunnigan's had stuff to stimulate the mind, it's not like solitary confinement, but still... It's a long time to be alone, it's bound to affect anyone's ability to think clearly, Helena thought. She held her hands slightly elevated at her sides, staring at Hunnigan over the sawed barrel of the Hydra that was now in the intelligence liaison's hands and pointed at Helena.

"What are you doing?" Helena asked slowly.

"Why are you here?" Hunnigan asked once again and Helena still didn't understand the question.

"I told you..."

"No, why are you really here, what are you after?" Hunnigan demanded impatiently. She swayed a little, the shotgun was surprisingly heavy even with the barrel sawed off... at least it sure felt like it when you happened to be running a fever and were suffering from blood loss. Helena tilted her head back a little, her mouth opening in a silent "oh" as she finally realized what was happening.

"You think I had something to do with the attacks."
"Did you?"

"Of course not!" Helena spat, "Would I fucking do something like that? No! You know I wouldn't!"
"I DON'T KNOW!"

"Yes, you do! You're the one who evaluated me as a candidate in the first place, you trusted me before and I was telling the truth then too!"
"That's what it certainly should look like even if you were lying," Hunnigan shook her head a little and ran the back of her hand over her forehead to wipe sweat off.

"I have never lied to you. Lawson is with Leon, I wasn't needed there. I wanted to make sure you were safe, so I came back. That's the truth. I'm going to put my arms down now, then I'm going to step over to you and I'm going to take the shotgun from you."

"Don't."

"You're going to have to shoot me," Helena said softly, put her arms down and stepped to Hunnigan. The older woman's finger tightened on the trigger for a fraction of a second before she released her grip and gave in, allowing Helena to take the weapon from her.

"I dun feel sho ghud..." Hunnigan slurred through clenched teeth.

"It's okay..." Helena whispered, put the shotgun away and moved to push her shoulder under Hunnigan's arm to help her stand.
"Come on," she then said, directing Hunnigan's steps toward the back of the break room where a bunk bed stood in the corner, usually occupied by agents and officers taking turns getting some much needed power naps during emergencies.

I'm going to need something to help get the fever down. Maybe there's some aspirin in the... Helena mused, then paused to slam her palm over her face at her own stupidity. Yeah, that's a great idea, give the hemophiliac meds that cause blood thinning! You're an idiot! she scoffed at herself. Since medication wasn't an option, she stuck with the good old "cool wash cloth over the forehead"-method.

"Y'know, I'm a bit insulted you'd think I had something to do with the attacks," she mumbled as she sat down on the floor by the bed and leaned her elbows to her thighs.
"Be as insulted you want, but you gotta admit you walking across the country just to check up on me is a bit suspicious. Especially when you could've checked up on me easier by trying to locate a working radio."

"You don't get it, I didn't want to check up on you, I wanted to be with you, make sure you're safe. It's what I do."
"Sure..." Hunnigan muttered, her tone the audible version of an eyeroll.

"Is it really that difficult to believe someone genuinely cares about you enough to do something like that for you?" Helena reasoned and Hunnigan turned to look at her. The wash cloth fell from her forehead, making a wet splat when it hit the floor.

"Yes," she narrowed her eyes at Helena and younger woman let out an exasperated sigh. She picked the wash cloth up and replaced it on Hunnigan's forehead.

"You're surprisingly annoying, you know that?" she shook her head. Hunnigan opened her mouth to comment, but Helena interrupted her quietly.

"Look, I can't make you believe anything you don't want to, but it's the truth; I'm here because I care about you."

A lot, she added privately before continuing, "After what happened to Deborah, you and Leon are pretty much the only people I have left in this world, and since I knew he's fine, I came to be with you."

"I suppose I have to believe you. For now."
"Well, you could've shot me just now. Why didn't you?" Helena inquired and Hunnigan inhaled deeply.

"Because I'm not certain. Of anything. Too many variables."

"...so, if you'd thought you knew for certain, you would have shot me?" Helena frowned, not bothering to even try hiding the hurt that snuck into her voice. How could she even seriously suggest that Helena would do something like this or be a willing participant in any of it?

Well, maybe because I was so easily coerced the last time. But this time is different, no one has any leverage over me anymore, she should know that, she should...

"...I doubt I would've, but I can't say for sure. Sorry if it hurts your feelings," Hunnigan apologized tiredly.
"I guess I understand," Helena shrugged a little. She didn't, not really.

"Could you do me a favor and check my post, see if you can establish a connection to... well, anywhere."
"Sure," Helena muttered and got up. Anywhere, or maybe to someone in Colorado to confirm what I've told you. You don't trust me, she thought as she went.

Knowing that Hunnigan doubted her and her motives hurt and insulted Helena more than she liked to admit. Had she really represented herself so poorly to Hunnigan during the time they'd known each other, had she always come across as less than trustworthy, or was it something she'd brought upon herself only during the Tall Oaks-incident?

No point dwelling on it, prove her wrong, that's all you can do, Helena mused as she typed out a few commands at Hunnigan's post. She transmitted several messages on several frequencies, but no one got back to her, not immediately anyway. She waited and frowned when she heard something, like chatter. She picked up the headset from the desk and held it to her ear, maybe someone was trying to make contact after all. No, that wasn't it, the sound was coming from somewhere else. Looking around, Helena spotted another headset, connected to the laptop on the side desk and realized they were the source of the sound.

"What does Ingrid Hunnigan like to listen to in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? Let's find out, why don't we," she smiled and put the headphones on.

Well, this is... certainly unexpected, Helena mused with a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth as she found herself listening to Slipknot's "(sic)". Somehow she'd always imagined Hunnigan would be more the type to listen to something lighter, like Lady Gaga or P!nk; the playlist full of Type O Negative, Disturbed and Pantera was something she'd never expected from Hunnigan. She didn't come across as a metalhead, quite the contrary.

Perhaps it's a Clark Kent-type of a thing, once the glasses come off, she's a different person, Helena thought and chuckled a little as she tried to imagine Hunnigan in a metal concert. She couldn't, her imagination was good, but not good enough to conjure up a mental image of Hunnigan in a moshpit or headbanging like there was no tomorrow.

Helena put the headphones away and stayed by the desk a while longer, waiting and glancing over the screens split into multiple small windows displaying images from all over the country.

"I can't even imagine what it must've been like to watch all that death," Helena muttered when she realized Hunnigan had probably seen it all. Of course she had. She always did. What a terrible burden for one person to carry alone.

"This is... it's... green," Hunnigan muttered as she stared at the bowl of thick soup Helena had brought for her.
"It's spinach soup, what color did you expect it to be, yellow?" Helena chuckled, then rolled her eyes at the other woman. Now was not the time to be a picky eater. Then she realized it wasn't that.

"Oh, my God, seriously, if I wanted you dead, I'd just shoot you, not bother poisoning your food," Helena rolled her eyes and grabbed a spoon, dipping it into the soup and taking a taste.
"Straight from the freezer, contains nothing but spinach, milk, possibly butter or some other oil, definitely some starch... only thing I added was salt," she explained and licked the spoon with a slow, theatrical gesture.

"I wasn't suspecting you, but now that you mentioned it..." Hunnigan taunted.
"Then what's the problem?"

"I didn't say there was a problem, I just said it's green," Hunnigan sighed then and proceeded to eat the creamy, somewhat sweet soup.

"So, not much of a cook yourself then?" Helena inquired as she proceeded to eat, this time from her own bowl.
"I know enough to keep myself from starving," Hunnigan shrugged and Helena chuckled.

"When this is over, I'll make you my famous chicken parmesan burgers. They are to die for," Helena promised, paused for a moment then and continued, "Okay, poor choice of words in this situation, but you know what I mean."
"Well, all the more reason to survive this mess," Hunnigan grinned. Helena nodded and continued eating, slowly and taking a moment to actually enjoy her meal instead of rushing it and dashing off like she'd had to do for the past few weeks.

"So, how'd you end up at the D.S.O.?" she then inquired from Hunnigan. The older woman sucked on her teeth and inhaled deeply as she took a moment to decide how to word it.

"Well, once upon a time I was a teenage renegade with a penchant for abusing her superpower... namely the ability to hack into practically anything... by breaking into classified government documents and leaking the contents," she began innocently and Helena's eyebrows rose in surprise. Definitely not something she'd expected from Hunnigan.

"As you can imagine, the government wasn't exactly happy about it so the next thing you know, the FBI came to have a 'chat' with me," she continued.

Actually, they'd raided the house in full force as if expecting to find an operational terrorist cell armed to the teeth inside. A lot of firepower and manpower for one teenager with a computer. As unsettling as it had been when it had first happened, it was kind of funny in hindsight.

"Long story short, I was given two options; work for them, have my record expunged and the charges dropped, or go to jail. And that's the story of how I became a respectable government employee," Hunnigan shrugged.

"That's actually pretty badass!" Helena commented, not even bothering to hide the bit of awe that crept into her voice and Hunnigan chuckled.
"I don't know about that, I think the things you field agents do on a daily basis are way more badass."

"Don't sell yourself short, it's a team effort. Sure, I can literally kick ass, but without good intel I wouldn't know whose ass I'm supposed to kick, let alone where to find said ass to kick... and how to get out of the way when the nukes are launched. So yeah, we'd be screwed if it weren't for people like you," Helena summarized her appreciation for the most under rated branch of the organization.

"Thanks," Hunnigan smiled, admitting to being somewhat flattered and also glad to hear that at least someone appreciated the intelligence liaisons.

"What about you, how'd you end up going from being a combat medic to a CIA agent... to a Secret Service agent... to a D.S.O. agent? Why not pursue a career in medicine? Obviously you've got the skills for it," she then inquired and Helena smirked, her eyebrow quirking.

"Have you met me? My bedside manner and less than sunny disposition leave a lot to be desired," she jested and shrugged then, "I don't have what it takes to lose a patient and then walk up to the next one and introduce myself with a smile, you know? I'm better at protecting people than I am at trying to save them once the damage has already been done," she explained then and Hunnigan nodded slowly.

"Well, you made a good choice, you're an excellent agent. And not too shabby a chef either," Hunnigan commented and Helena chuckled.
"Thanks."

"God, it feels like forever since I last sat down to have a meal with someone. Time becomes an odd thing when you're alone, it's so easy to lose track of it, a few days start feeling like a lot longer."
"I can't even imagine."

"And I'm sorry about waving a gun at you as a 'welcome back'."
"I suppose I should've sent Leon. Sorry if you were disappointed that I showed up instead of him," Helena smirked and Hunnigan frowned. What a strange thing to say.

"If you're implying what I think you are, rest assured that Leon and I are just friends, he's all yours for all I care."
"What? No-no-no, he's not my type!" Helena shook her head.

"I thought he was everyone's type."

"I'm sure he likes to think so too," Helena laughed a little, "What I meant was that I should've considered the situation better and I should've let him come instead of coming myself. You two have known each other longer, and maybe if he were here instead of me, you wouldn't have to feel so... well, suspicious," she tried explaining.

"Poor Leon, though. I'm sure he'd be devastated if he knew you don't consider him your type," Hunnigan teased and Helena chuckled.
"Only in the interest of renewing mankind would I ever..." she shook her head again.

"Well, the mankind could do worse than you and Leon as the equivalent of Adam and Eve."
"Oh, now you're just grossing me out on purpose," Helena scoffed.

"But imagine what adorable children you two would have! They'd have Leon's fabulous hair and your-"
"Horrible temper?"

"I was going to say 'feisty determination', but..." Hunnigan shrugged with a grin that conveyed false innocense. Helena groaned and chuckled at that.
"For the record, the typical American dream of a house with the white picket fence, two kids, and a dog is a nightmare as far as I'm concerned," she confessed.

"Mine too," Hunnigan whispered conspiratorially, "my family never understood that though, I can't tell you how many times mom tried setting me up with guys she'd intentionally bumped into at the grocery store for the sole purpose of pimping me out to them," she added and Helena burst out laughing.

"Well, luckily for me, one of the perks of being an openly gay woman is that I can spend the rest of my life sharing a house with a cat and no one will question it," Helena commented and Hunnigan laughed, moving her hand over the injury in her side. Laughing hurt, but at the same time it felt good to genuinely laugh.

"I would personally rather live with Leon than a cat. Unless Leon sheds... Then I don't know."
"I'm sure he would be glad to hear that."

"Maybe, but considering that I loathe cats, it's not much of a compliment really," Hunnigan chuckled.