"Have you spoken to her?" Warren Bering was balancing the books for the month when his wife mentioned that Myka and Helena would be flying back to the states the next day.

"No, dear, not since she e-mailed to let us know they had gotten there. I'm sure there's a lot going on."

Warren passed the books off for his wife to do a final check on the accounts.

"I don't know how I feel about this, Jeannie."

His wife didn't even look up. "What are you referring to, Warren?"

He rapped on the table with his knuckles, a sometimes nervous habit of his. "She's nineteen for Christ's sake. What's she doing flying halfway across the world for someone she barely knows?"

Jean responded, as blasé as she allowed herself to be when her husband started getting himself worked up. "She's trying to do the right thing, Warren. Something I'd like to think we should be proud of her for."

Warren stood, looking around the room to see if there was anything he could do with himself. Pacing. Stomping. Kicking things out of his way. This frantic nature, this was something he only shared with his wife. She had been privy to it for over two decades at this point, though, so it didn't faze her.

"And I don't think this girl is someone she 'barely knows.'" Jean tried to mimic him lightheartedly, but he didn't find it very funny.

"I don't like it. I don't like it, Jeannie. I'm going to call her tomorrow and tell her what I think about this whole thing."

"Warren, please…."

"No, Jeannie, no. It's nonsense, it's just nonsense."

"Don't. Warren, just leave her be. She needs to do this." When he started to protest, she stood and cut him off, "And she needs to do it without you breathing down her neck."

She gave him that look and he backed down. "Fine. But soon. She and I are going to talk about this soon."

Myka sat on the floor, dividing her clothes to be rolled up and put back in her suitcase. Helena had wanted to lay down when they got back to the house, so Myka was doing her best not to disturb her. She was reading something quietly with just a bedside lamp on and her eyes kept fluttering closed. It reminded Myka of the first night they had ever spent at school.

She had resented the girl so much then. She had been so unkind, so scared. Scared that she would live in her shadow. She had thought that, of course, because Helena was beautiful and aloof, that they would never have anything in common. That she couldn't trust her. And she had been so deeply wrong. She wanted to take it all back, all the wasted time. Even though it had only been a few months, she felt ashamed even remembering it.

If only they had had that time. She just wanted more time.

She turned back to her suitcase. Looking at Helena was only making this already difficult process worse. She zipped open the front pocket to begin packing some smaller items and saw a gleam of fluorescent green at the bottom. She pulled out a crumpled up piece of paper. Or rather, a crumpled up post-it note.

As she opened it, her stomach seized up. It was Helena's handwriting. She hadn't gotten one of these in what felt like such a long time, where did it come from?

"My dearest - You've gone home for Christmas and it has broken my heart. I hope that you find this stowaway at a moment when you most miss me and it can feel like a hug from afar. All of my love. H.G."

She did miss her. She missed her more than she thought it possible to miss someone who was half a room away. Myka pushed back the tears that were cavalierly fighting their way forward. She didn't get to cry. This wasn't her tragedy. This wasn't her loss.

But God, did it feel like it.

She stepped lightly over to the bed and took the notebook out of the sleeping girl's hands. She scanned through a number of equations, proofs, and sketches, each sketch with a frantically-written note alongside. She picked up enough of it to know that this was some of Helena's research. It looked rudimentary, the beginning of something forming. Myka couldn't even guess how many of these notebooks probably existed, or when it was exactly that Helena had started planning.

"Myka?" She was such a light sleeper. Helena's eyes were still closed, but she had her arm stretched out for Myka to get in the bed with her. She set the notebook down and slid in, protectively enveloping Helena into her. A hug from afar.

Myka stroked the back of Helena's head, scattering kisses along her hairline and forehead. Who was going to hold Helena while she tried to sleep from now on? If Myka was gone, if Myka went back to real life, who was going to take care of Helena?

Charles certainly wasn't going to do it. And for as much as Myka liked Helena's mother, the woman just wasn't in a place where she could parent. Not right now. That much was obvious.

"Helena, will you look at me for a second?" Helena turned her head upward, eyes fixed. Myka had gotten lost in those eyes so many times. Now Helena was lost in them too.

Myka stroked her temple and down to her cheek. Be present. Stay with me. She was trying to convey it all without saying any of it.

"Helena, why don't you want to come back?"

Let's talk this through. Let's be rational. Let's do this together. Myka held Helena's face firm, toward her. She wouldn't let her run away, even if this hurt both of them.

"It's gone Myka. It doesn't matter anymore. There's nothing there."

No. No, no, no, Helena. I'm there! I'M THERE! Myka's mind was screaming at her to get angry. To fight for Helena.

"There's so much there, Helena. People care about you. People love you."

"People pity me, Myka."

There. Okay, she sounds angry, but at least she sounds like she cares about this.

"People don't pity you. They're sad for you because something terrible and senseless happened to you."

"No, they don't understand. This is my fault, if I had just worked harder, if I hadn't let things distract me…"

She's getting worked up. Calm. Keep it calm.

"It's not your fault, Helena. It's not."

Myka shook her head, but was at a loss. What else? What else can we talk about?

"Helena, do you know why I never dated anyone before you?" Helena mirrored Myka's action, shaking her head as much as Myka's firm grasp allowed. "Okay, well other than the fact that I exhibit the smoothness of a baby giraffe,"

Almost a smile, she almost smiled, keep it up Bering.

"Other than that, there was also just never a person that I found more interesting than books or puzzles or, well, homework, frankly. Characters in books were more interesting than people in real life. But Helena, the first time I saw you, you were more interesting than any character I had ever read about. I didn't like you…"

Helena almost scowled.

"But you were so interesting. And it didn't hurt that you looked like what I've just always assumed Aphrodite looks like."

A little more of a smile. Keep talking. Keep her here.

"And that made me so scared. You scared me. Because you were perfect and I was me. But Helena… you make me feel like I'm perfect too."

She's starting to cry. No, that wasn't the point of this.

"You saved me. You saved me from being too scared to live. You gave me the courage to pursue what I wanted, you gave me the courage to ask for help when I needed it..."

"You did that yourself, Myka."

"But you helped. I did the things I did because I knew you believed that I could. So will you please just let me save you too? Will you please come home?" The question lingered.

"But what am I supposed to do, Myka? What am I supposed to actually wake up in the morning and do?"

"I know he's gone Helena and it's so unfair. The only thing in the world I want to do is give him back to you. I can't though. But someday Helena? Someday you're going to be able to give someone back to their loved ones. Because you're miraculous and you can change the world if you want to."

"And all I have to do is 'come home?'" Helena wasn't mocking her, but she was mocking the idea that this was somehow going to be wrapped up in a neat, tidy package.

"No, Helena. All you have to do is… all you have to do, for right now, is not let yourself give into disappearing. And every day, make yourself a little more whole. Until you're ready. Ready for whatever it is you want to be ready for. But I'll be there, okay? As long as you come home, I'll be there and you can cry and you can tell me how pissed off you are that he's gone every day for the rest of our lives. And you can stay in bed and you can not talk to me, but you cannot disappear, okay?"

Myka finally stopped talking and felt how tense she was. Her whole body was stiff and laser-focused on making Helena actually hear this.

"Every day for the rest of our lives?"

"Yeah. Even if you decide to stay here, you're stuck with me. Expect a torrent of e-mails and phone calls and letters because, oh, there will be a colossal storm of communication."

She's here. Even if just for this moment, she's with you. Yes, Myka, yes. You've got her.

"I've got you Helena, I've got you." Myka put her arm around Helena once more, letting her put her head back on her chest. For as long as Helena needed it, Myka had her.

Contrary to what Charles had said, Helena's mother actually seemed relieved when the girls announced that they would both be flying back to Cleveland. Myka caught the look on Charles' face as well. She had expected him to be giving her a dirty look, but he was actually peering at his sister – sadness, disappointment, guilt all in one.

When he dropped them off at the airport, Myka took him aside just for a moment before he hugged his sister goodbye.

"Charles, if you ever need anything, call her. Call me. We're family now, okay?"

Maybe they weren't family, but Myka needed him to know that she was waving a white flag. They were on the same team.

She had expected him to scowl in response, but instead he pulled her up into a tight hug, taking her by surprise. She hesitated, and then reciprocated.

"Make sure she's okay?"

"Without question."

The siblings had a private moment by the car while Myka retrieved the suitcases from the trunk and spoke to an attendant about their gate number. When she turned back, the two were backing away from an embrace, tears lining Charles' eyes. Helena gave him a kiss on the cheek and turned back to the airport door to retrieve her suitcase.

With a final wave to Charles, they headed home.