So, this is the real final part of this fic. In the process of writing the (first) final chapter, I asked sistersin7 (to whom this fic is gifted) for her opinion on something. I don't even remember what. But she asked me "Well, is Myka going to get home to her universe, or not?" My immediate answer was yes, because Myka was pregnant and how could I be that evil etc. Her response to that was - what if they stayed in the opposite universes? How would that play out? So this is my answer to that question. Thank you, as always, for reading.
Final Chapter #2
It was Myka's last night - or so they hoped. They had spent the day together, the whole team, and they all ate together, even Artie and Dr Calder, who he was apparently courting. In Myka's world, they had married many years ago, but she didn't mention that to them. She was fine trying to influence Helena – after all, she knew that Helena was hiding from what she really wanted. But Dr Calder and Artie would find their own way, or they wouldn't.
They toasted to absent friends, and Myka choked back tears. Leena was really gone, here, but she was alive and well where Myka was from. It was so unfair. Helena saw her get upset, and wordlessly took her hand and squeezed it. Myka smiled at her gratefully. All too soon, however, it was time for her to go to the Warehouse to try again. She kissed and hugged them all, but she still wasn't sure if this was going to work. Despite Mrs Frederic's assertion that she would know when it was time to try wishing on the locket again, something didn't feel… right.
She and Helena drove to the Warehouse in silence, and Helena courteously fetched the electric stagecoach so she didn't have to make the long walk to the HG Wells section. When they got there, Myka stood there nervously, turning the locket over and over in her hands.
"So, I guess this is goodbye," she said, taking a deep breath.
"Yes, I suppose it is," Helena said. "Are you sure it's going to work this time?"
"Not at all," Myka said with a frown. "I hope that Mrs Frederic knows what she's talking about. But if I do go back – are you gonna think about things, about everything we talked about? Because I really think you could be happy here, Helena. With Myka."
"I promise. I will think. I will talk to Myka. But I don't appreciate the way you railroaded me into coming here."
"Oh, please," Myka said dismissively. "If you weren't attracted to her, if you didn't love her, you wouldn't have come. So maybe I gave you a bit of encouragement, but if you didn't want her, you wouldn't be here at all."
Helena looked at her sternly for a moment, before her expression softened.
"I suppose you're right," she said reluctantly, looking at her folded hands.
The locket felt strange in her hands, and she looked at it, waiting for a sign, for anything that would tell her when the time was right. She couldn't feel anything, a vibe, whatever, to indicate what was best. She decided to try again anyway. Nothing had gone wrong the first time; it simply hadn't worked. Trying it again couldn't hurt, right?
"It's time, Helena. Good luck," she said, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Helena kissed back, her lips soft, and she sighed as Myka moved away.
"Goodbye, Myka. I hope you get home to your wife," she said, and Myka nodded. She closed her eyes and held the locket tightly, picturing her life, her wife, Leena, her friends. The locket started to heat up in her hand, and she thought it was working. But the heat increased too much and suddenly there was something like sand slipping, pouring through her fingers. She opened her hand and found that the locket had dissolved, crumbled into dust that swirled and coalesced and then disappeared under the harsh lights of the Warehouse. She stood looking at the picture of Christina in her hand, somehow intact despite the destruction of the artefact that had housed it. The locket was gone; destroyed. Used up. Its purpose had been fulfilled. She realised as she stood there staring numbly at the picture in her hand that her counterpart had chosen, consciously or not, to stay in the other universe. With the Helena who loved her. Myka looked up to see this world's Helena, a woman who had run from her life at the Warehouse and her love for Myka, and she saw the horror on her face as it dawned on her. There was no other way for Myka to return to her own world. There was no way for her to return to her wife, to her friends, to raise her baby with the woman she loved. She was alone in a universe where Helena had rejected her, where Leena was dead, and where she had no wife to raise her child with. She collapsed to her knees and heard the sound of her own cries, her own keening for the loss of everything she had ever known. Helena kneeled next to her and enfolded her in her arms, but it didn't matter. Because Myka was exiled, lost, in a world that wasn't hers. She could never go home.
Myka said her goodbyes, hugging everyone, holding on extra tight to Leena, who whispered in her ear again that her counterpart would be watching over Myka. Myka let the tears come as Helena drove them quickly to the Warehouse. She truly didn't want to leave. As much as she had tried to make her peace with Boone, with Helena's choices, with the pain Helena had been through, she still felt abandoned, unloved. And this Helena – well. She was everything that Myka could ever have wanted.
All too soon they were standing in the spot where this had all started, Helena with her locket around her neck, and Myka's hands wound around the chain.
"I think it's going to work this time," she said, with false cheer and an attempt at a confident tone, and Helena nodded.
"I hope so, darling."
"I'm going to miss you so much," Myka said, her eyes brimming once again.
"And I, you," Helena said simply. "I hope that she comes to her senses, Myka. Because you are wonderful. I've never met anyone else who is your equal, Myka Bering. Your Helena is a fool if she does not choose you."
"Thank you, Helena."
They both felt it – the heating of the locket against their skin. They stared at one another for a long moment, Myka drinking Helena in, her eyes so bright and carefree, her heart open and sincere, love written all over her face. It had never been clearer to her that this was not her Helena, but a Helena who was unbroken by life, by tragedy. How she wished her Helena could be this open, this happy, this uncomplicated. Her Helena was a negative of this one; dark where her counterpart was light. Myka wished that life had been kinder to her Helena.
"Goodbye, Helena," she said, before leaning forward to kiss her once more, fervently and insistently, tasting every inch of her mouth in case it was the last time, tasting her own tears as they fell between them. She broke away, leaning her forehead against Helena's, and then concentrated on her own world, her own life, her family, broken and sad. The locket heated even more violently against the skin of her hand, and Helena muttered a soft curse. Suddenly, though, the metal changed, melted, breaking into particles of dust or sand, perhaps, and slipping through their fingers. Myka looked down to find that she was holding only a picture of Christina and some small grains of what was left of the locket; grains which were quickly reduced to motes that disappeared as she watched. And with them, her chance of returning to her own world.
Helena fell to her knees beside Myka, sobbing as she realised that her wife and her child were gone, lost to another universe. Myka joined her, holding Helena tightly as she realised this was her fault. She had wished this artefact into being, and it had fulfilled its purpose, spending its power and trapping another woman in a universe where she did not belong. The other Myka and her baby couldn't return, and the woman in her arms had lost them because Myka had been too selfish to give her up. She held Helena tightly as her own eyes filled with tears of pure shame. She didn't deserve to be here, and she had caused all of this chaos, breaking up a family in the process for her own ends. She didn't deserve the regard of the woman in her arms, and she feared that she would now lose it forever. Her sobs mixed with Helena's, their tears mingling with the dust motes left from the artefact. Myka was responsible for this, and she would never forgive herself.
It had been three weeks since the artefact's demise, and Myka's anguish at the loss of everything she'd ever known was now a dull roar in her head. She ate, she slept, she went through the motions, but she felt almost dead inside. Everyone she loved was gone. Or rather, they were gone but they were also here, but in very different forms. This world's Helena was hovering over her, one hand always ready to catch her or check her temperature or… to do anything at all, really, to comfort or assist. The guilt of being the reason this world's Myka had created the artefact in the first place was clear on her face, and her hovering was both comforting and irritating. But other than looking after Myka or comforting her, she never touched her.
Myka had gone to see Dr Calder to check that the baby was okay. Her own emotional pain was enormous, but the baby, while not an actual physical connection to her Helena, was certainly an emotional one. The baby was fine, thankfully, and once she'd wiped off the gel from the sonogram and redressed, cursing doctors and their propensity for making people undress for no good reason, Dr Calder confirmed that everything was fine with the baby, and that her blood work was all fine.
"Just keep taking the pre-natal vitamins," Dr Calder said, her hand on Myka's arm, comforting and compassionate, "and the baby should be fine."
"Thank you," Myka said dully.
"Agent Bering," Mrs Frederic said.
"Yes?" Myka replied, again dully and with her eyes on the floor. She didn't even react to Mrs Frederic's sudden appearance at her doctor's appointment.
"Agent Bering, I am very sorry to tell you that we have run out of options. All of the artefacts that might have returned you to your world… they have significant downsides; downsides that would result in the death of people you love. I am sorry to say that the Regents see no way to return you to your world without significant and painful repercussions for all concerned. I am so very sorry," she said, taking Myka's hand. It was so unlike the terrifying and distant woman that it snapped Myka out of her reverie.
"You were trying to find a way to send me back?" she asked, a spark of interest and curiosity making her head lift.
"Yes," Mrs Frederic said, nodding. "The Regents felt it was imperative to make an effort to assist you, since it was in part their failings that led to Ms Wells making the decisions she did, which in turn led to this universe's Agent Bering creating the artefact in her grief and pain." Mrs Frederic sighed.
Myka looked at her, trying to make it all make sense in her head. After a few moments, she spoke quietly.
"I want… no, I demand, that the Regents do something for me. To make up for this."
"Go on," Mrs Frederic said, her eyes narrowing slightly. 'Demand' was not a word that people used to Mrs Frederic's face.
"I want you to have them call Helena to a meeting. I want them to apologise to her, officially, for failing her, as you said. Failing to offer her any help when she came out of the Bronze, and then blaming her when she broke. And the Janus coin. I want apologies for all of it, and I want an official offer for her to rejoin the Warehouse as an Agent, with badge and gun and all the bells and whistles. She deserves that. And it could be the first step in really healing her."
Mrs Frederic considered her carefully for a moment before speaking. Myka was resolute, her expression calm. This was not a demand made in anger, and Mrs Frederic nodded eventually.
"Most of the Regents are new, as you know, following the attack on their ranks by Mr Sykes. But I believe that Mr Kosan will join me with those who are left of the old guard, in apologising and offering a fresh start to Agent Wells. Will that suffice?"
Myka nodded.
"And you, Agent Bering? Do you wish to continue working for the Warehouse? Because of course you are not required to take the place of our Agent Bering. You can return to Colorado to live with your family, should you wish."
Myka's eyes widened.
"My family? They're alive?" she asked, looking completely startled.
"Yes," Mrs Frederic said, her eyes shining, suddenly.
"Okay. That's… I need to process this. Thank you, Mrs Frederic. And of course I'll stay with the Warehouse. I belong here."
Mrs Frederic nodded, and Dr Calder squeezed Myka's arm gently in support. By the time Myka had looked at Dr Calder and then back, Mrs Frederic was gone.
"Do you know anything about my family, Dr Calder?" Myka asked.
"I know the facts, Myka. You'd have to speak to your friends – her friends – to find out about your relationship with your family. Your mother and father live in Colorado Springs above a bookstore, called Bering and Sons, and your sister Tracy is married and pregnant, I believe. Other than that, as I said, you will need to speak to Pete and Claudia. I don't know how much Helena knows of Agent Bering's family, so she may not be any help," Dr Calder said, and Myka nodded distractedly.
"Thank you," she said, and she returned to the B&B in a daze, walking upstairs to her room and closing the door behind her, settling herself on the bed with her teddy in her arms. Her teddy was an incredibly important thing to her, because her mother had given it to her. Her mother, father and sister had died in a car accident on the way to Tracy's graduation. Myka was already in training for the Secret Service then, and had had to leave and begin training again the following year because of the funerals, dealing with wills and property and selling the bookstore. It had been a dark year in her life, and now it was - erased, essentially. She had a family again.
A few minutes later there was a light knock on her bedroom door.
"Come in," she said, distracted. Her mind was on her family as she'd last seen them. What would a grown up Tracy look like? Did her Dad still have his hair? Did her Mom look like Myka's Grandmother?
"Myka?" Helena said hesitantly. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and she touched Myka's hand, bringing her out of her reverie.
"Oh, hi, Helena," she said, ignoring the way her heart leapt, an automatic response at seeing the face of the woman she loved. The face of the woman she loved on a woman who had deserted the other Myka, she reminded herself.
"Are you okay? Is the baby okay?" Helena asked anxiously.
"Yes, sorry. The baby is fine, and I'm fine. Everything went fine."
"You don't seem yourself, Myka. Is something wrong?" Helena asked, squeezing her hand.
"I… I got some surprising news. About my family, at home in Colorado. In my world, they were killed in an accident when I was in training for the Secret Service. I didn't realise that they were still alive here. Mrs Frederic mentioned it, in passing, and I… I guess I don't really know how to feel about it."
"I understand," Helena said. "That must have been quite a shock. Why don't you come downstairs and I'll make you some tea?"
"Okay," Myka said, allowing herself to be looked after. She suddenly felt drained. When she stood she took Helena's arm, leaning her head on her wife's shoulder. No, not her wife. The woman who looked like her wife. Her wife was gone. She took a deep breath.
Helena sat her at the table and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with tea and sandwiches.
"To keep your blood sugar up," she explained, as Myka raised an eyebrow at the sandwiches.
"Did somebody say sandwiches?" Pete said, as he entered the room. He had a sixth sense for when food was being made somewhere in the B&B. He leaned down and kissed Myka's cheek, a habit he'd developed since the artefact had dissolved into nothing. He, too, was protective and comforted Myka when he could. She was glad to see that the hint of expectation had disappeared, now. He was all 'protective older brother' since he'd seen her face the night the artefact had stranded her.
"So, in your world your parents and Tracy are gone?" Helena asked in a soft voice as she set sandwiches on a plate for Myka.
"Yes," she said, and Pete whistled through his teeth.
"Wow," he said, his eyes wide. "That's a bit of a mindfuck right there, partner."
She nodded. It still hadn't entirely sunk in.
"Why don't you go to see them?" Helena suggested gently.
"No," Myka said, shaking her head. "I'm not ready for that, not yet."
"Well, you could call them," Pete suggested, his mouth full of Myka's sandwiches.
"That's… not a bad idea," she said, thoughtfully. Perhaps speaking to them on the phone was a safer way to introduce herself to the idea. After all, she was pregnant and it was more than likely that she would burst into tears at the sight of her lost family.
"It's a great idea," Helena said, nodding at Pete. "It's the best way to deal with it, really. You get to speak to them, but they don't see you, and if you lose your composure, you can simply make your excuses and hang up."
Myka nodded. Helena pressed some food on her, and she made herself eat some of the admittedly delicious sandwiches, mostly to make Helena happy, she had to admit. She chased the sandwiches with tea and afterwards went to lie down, Helena next to her, reading, in the library. She had a nap and when she woke she was ready to talk to her parents.
"Hello," her dad's voice was brusque, as usual.
"Dad?" she said, her heart leaping at the sound of his voice.
"Myka?" he replied, sounding confused. "Is everything okay?"
Her heart felt like it was burning in her chest. Like there was a beautiful flame in there, burning away the pain of her loss, of the cold emptiness of grief, of being orphaned in one fell swoop.
"Nothing, Dad. I just missed you guys and I wanted to see how you are."
His voice was surprised, but gentle. "That's nice. We've been missing you too. We were talking about you last night at dinner. Tracy and Kevin came by for dinner. She's about ready to burst…"
They talked for a few minutes before her Dad called her Mom to the phone, and they talked, too, for another ten minutes or so. When she hung up, after having made a tentative plan to go and see them at the next holiday, which was Easter, she thought vaguely, she took a deep breath. She would have to explain the pregnancy part, somehow. Since in this world she was single. She sat in silence for a long time after the call, Helena next to her, holding her hand.
"Are you all right, Myka?" she asked, eventually.
"Of course," she said vaguely, her mind still elsewhere.
"Is there anything I can do, love?" Helena said, and Myka sighed. She put her head on Helena's shoulder, an automatic movement, and Helena pulled her close, wrapping her arms around Myka. They stayed there for a while. How long, Myka wasn't sure, but they were interrupted by Abigail calling them through for dinner.
After dinner, which Myka barely touched, she left everyone at the table talking, her mind still in Colorado. It was an hour or so later when Helena knocked on the door and came to check on her again. Myka was momentarily irritated, but she called out for Helena to come in, and smiled wearily.
"How are you feeling?" Helena asked, her hands fluttering at her sides, as if she wanted to reach out and touch Myka. Suddenly, Myka was furious.
"What do you want, Helena?" she asked, snappily.
"I… I just wanted to see how you're doing. You've had a shock, and you need to be looked after…" she said, trailing off uncertainly.
"I don't need to be looked after," Myka said, practically in a hiss. "I'm a grown woman. So what are you doing here? Why aren't you back in Wisconsin?"
Helena looked even more uncertain.
"I… I thought you might want me, here."
"Never mind what I might or might not want, Helena. Why are you here? What do you want from me? What do you want for you?"
Helena looked at her carefully for a moment, sensing the depth of her anger, perhaps, and took a deep breath before answering.
"I don't know, Myka. I was ready to talk to Myka from this world, to work things out. But this… I didn't expect this, Myka. You're pregnant and you're married to your Helena, and it looks like you're staying here, and I don't know what to… I don't know how to help. How to fix that. And I don't know what you want from me, Myka."
She sat on the edge of the bed, looking defeated. They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Myka's mind was racing. The whole thing was a mindfuck. Her wife was gone; her life was gone. Her friends were still here, but in different forms. She had gained her entire family, a family who had died years ago. And there was a different version of her wife standing in front of her, offering… offering what, exactly?
"Do you want me, Helena?" she asked quietly. Helena looked up from her intense surveying of her fingernails.
"I… yes, I do, Myka."
"Even though I'm not her?"
"Yes," Helena said. She was looking at Myka and her eyes were shining with… something. Not quite love. Not quite desire. But awe, perhaps?
"You want me, for me?" Myka asked, this time looking at Helena, searching her eyes.
"Yes," Helena breathed, and Myka moved forward, lunging, really, and somehow despite her general lack of coordination and her state of confusion, she managed to find Helena's lips with her own, and with a groan borne of pain and desperation and weeks of pent up rage and sexual frustration, she practically dragged Helena to the bed, stripping them both naked, making frustrated little grunts when Helena's jeans wouldn't come off because they were so tight. Myka moved Helena roughly, pulling her limbs to where she wanted them without much regard to how said limbs were supposed to move, but Helena didn't seem to care, because she was moving against Myka with as much abandon as Myka was moving against her. Their hands found each other and fingers slipped inside, almost simultaneously, and they were both groaning and crying out, lost in a moment that was as much catharsis as it was sex or love or anything else. They had each been waiting for the other to speak up, to talk about what was between them, what they could be to one another despite the shadows of their other selves that would always, always be there, waiting in the wings for their time in the spotlight.
Afterwards, Myka couldn't help but cry, and Helena held her and kissed her, wiping away her tears and asking anxiously if she'd hurt Myka.
"No, I just… It's so much, Helena. My family being alive, my friends being so different, you being… it's a lot."
"I know, darling. I wish that I could help. I feel useless," Helena said, rubbing her back gently.
"You are helping, Helena. I just… I need you to decide. If you're staying or not. I'm having a baby. It's kind of a permanent thing, you know?"
Helena nodded, her eyes darker than Myka had ever seen them.
"I'm staying, love. Of course I'm staying. I can't leave you like this."
"I don't want you to stay out of pity, Helena," Myka said, bristling, and Helena kissed her forehead.
"That's not why I want to stay."
"Then why?" Myka asked. She was so tired of feeling uncertain and vulnerable and lost.
"You, Myka. I love you," Helena said. Myka closed her eyes.
"You love me, or you love her?"
"I love you. Both of you. All of you. I love Myka Bering, or Myka Bering-Wells. I love you, every version of you, and I will spend the rest of my life loving you and caring for you and this child if you will let me, Myka."
Myka breathed out a sigh of relief.
"I love you, Helena."
Myka kissed her, delving and deep and hard and soon they were rocking against one another again, giving and taking what they needed from one another. It wasn't quite love, not yet. It was something more visceral, more needy, more rough. But they gave and took from each other with open eyes, and Myka trusted that this Helena, while not her wife, would still love and care for her and her child. Myka came as roughly as she had begun, Helena's fingers insistent inside her, and it felt like relief and safety all at once.
Myka was lost in shame and misery. Helena was in agonising pain at the loss of her wife and child, and although she was still wonderfully caring, her pain was clear. Each time Myka found her crying or saw her looking out of the window at the tree in the garden where she and her Myka had kissed for the first time, it was like someone had grasped her heart in a vice. Helena didn't deserve this; didn't deserve to lose everything because Myka was selfish. It was unconscionable and she could not forgive herself.
Helena was at the Warehouse, working to distract herself. The team here were a little wary of Myka, she thought, and she thought they had a right to be. She had been so selfish, wishing for a Helena who loved her, and failing when she tried to use the artefact to fix what was broken. She wasn't worthy to be a Warehouse agent.
The day after the artefact had failed, she had started running. Literally. She found the other Myka's running gear and she took off in the morning before Helena woke up. Some days she stayed away all day; not running the whole time, of course, but at least a few hours a day. Some days she just waited until she knew Helena was at the Warehouse. She tried to be around in the evenings, tried to talk to Helena, tried to be there. But the guilt was crippling her. Even when she ran it was wrapped around her throat, like a vine, stopping her from breathing clearly, from seeing ahead of her. She was heartbroken, too, at the loss of her old life, of her own family. Because her family in this reality had died when she was in training for the Secret Service. She hadn't even been able to process that loss yet; it was too much to take in.
She sat down on the comfortable sofa in the library, the one she and Helena used to share in her original reality, before everything had gone to shit with Yellowstone and Emily Lake and Nate. She missed her Helena, too. Her Helena was different from this one – so much darker and harder. But she was the one Myka had fallen in love with first. It was all so confusing. Myka wasn't sure how she could fix any of this, how she could make a life here. She'd screwed everything up so royally in this reality. She'd destroyed Helena's life. How could she ever come back from that? How could Helena even still want anything to do with her? She did, of course. She was such a nice, open, loving person that she still wanted to spend time with Myka. It was Myka who didn't know how to spend time with her.
"Hi," Leena said, walking into the library with tea and fresh cookies on a tray. She had been Myka's rock, this last few weeks. Helena had been wonderful, but she was extremely distracted and saddened by what had happened, and although Helena didn't blame her, Myka blamed herself enough for them both. It was, therefore, hard to be around Helena. Because every single breath or word reminded Myka of what she'd done.
"Still beating yourself up, huh?" Leena asked.
"I guess," Myka said, smiling faintly.
"You know, she doesn't blame you," Leena said, watching in amusement as Myka distractedly ate an entire cookie in two bites.
"Huh?" Myka asked, her mind still on Helena, on blaming herself.
"I said, Helena doesn't blame you. Not at all."
"How can she not?" Myka said, incredulous.
"She doesn't blame you. She told me that she might have done the same in your position. She told me that she told you that," Leena said, and she sounded a little exasperated.
"She did. She said that. But come on, that was before my selfishness resulted in her losing her wife and child forever. Mrs Frederic said there's nothing else to do; they've checked every artefact that might help."
"I know, Myka. Helena knows that too. And she hasn't changed her mind, Myka. She understands that you can't help how you feel, that it's nearly impossible to make a wish if you don't mean it. She is grieving for her wife and her child, of course. But she cares about you too. And I know how weird this all is, but Myka… she needs you. And I know you feel guilty. But right now you feeling guilty and blaming yourself – it's counterproductive. She needs your support, your comfort – your love. So could you, for my sake, just hold her and kiss her and do whatever you need to do to comfort her? That woman… she's not the same as your Helena. She went through the Bronze, but she didn't come out hardened like your version… in some ways she came out softer. She depends on Myka. Myka holds her together, keeps her grounded and sane. And for better or worse, you're the nearest thing to her wife. So – and I don't say this lightly – get over it, Myka. She needs you, and you're failing her because you're focused on how much you've already hurt her. You can obsess about it later. For now, help her. Please."
Myka was a little taken aback. Her world's version of Leena had been softer than this. She would never have said "Get over it," in any situation. But she was right. Myka was indulging herself. She had been for weeks. She'd been sulking, hiding away, and leaving Helena alone. They hadn't touched since the artefact's demise. And Helena had told her, back when she'd first come here, that Myka was her rock, her steady ground. Her support. And Myka had taken that away because she was brooding about the mistake she'd already made.
She ate another cookie, forgetting about her aversion to sugar, as she thought about her behaviour. She washed it down with the rest of the tea, and then stood.
"Leena, can I borrow your car?" she asked.
"Sure," Leena said, smiling. She fished the keys from her pocket and threw them to Myka.
Myka drove to the Warehouse, rehearsing what to say. Apologising seemed like a good start. For the brooding, for not supporting Helena. And… there was an oak tree, near a small tributary of the local river. It was a risky idea; it might upset Helena more than it helped. But it might just help her – help them both - to look forward instead of back.
She got to the Warehouse and went through the scans, retinal and fingerprint, before stopping to ask Claudia where Helena was. She didn't see Claudia's smile as she practically ran to find Helena, who was doing inventory near the Dark Vault. When she found her, Helena was lost in thought, her eyes streaming with tears again, as she wrote on a clipboard. Myka's stomach gave that familiar clench of guilt and pain at what she'd caused Helena, but she squashed it, pushed it down with an effort. This was about Helena, not her.
"Helena?" she said softly, and Helena looked up with a start.
"Oh, hi Myka," she said, wiping her eyes and dredging up a smile from somewhere. She still looked beautiful, despite her wan face and the dark shadows under her eyes, and Myka's heart stuttered at the sight. "What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at the B&B today."
"I was. But then… I needed to see you. So – would you come with me?" she asked, smiling and holding out her hand.
"Of course," Helena said, puzzled.
Myka drew her through the Warehouse, smiling vaguely at Claudia on the way past, and they got in Leena's car. Myka drove them back to the B&B and led a bemused Helena to the massive oak at the bottom of the garden.
"Sit," she said, and they both sat under the tree, a tiny tributary trickling nearby, lending its tinkling music to the serenity of Leena's garden.
"What's wrong, Myka?" Helena asked, looking concerned. She went to take Myka's hand but at the last moment, pulled back. Myka observed, and felt even more horrible about the way she'd been behaving. Helena was frightened to touch her because she'd been so distant. Myka reached out gently and took Helena's hand, instead. Helena smiled at her hesitantly.
"I owe you an apology," Myka said softly.
"Myka, I've told you, you don't need to apologise for that. I…" she broke off, sighing.
"I'm not apologising for that, Helena," Myka said. "I mean, I am sorry about it, and I probably will feel guilty until the end of time. But what I'm apologising for is that I have been dwelling on it. I've been brooding, and I've been withdrawn and distant and dammit Helena, you even told me yourself how much you need your Myka, how much she grounds you, and I still did it. I compounded the error by dwelling on my own pain and making things even worse for you. So I brought you here to start over. I screwed up, and I want to make it up to you."
Helena smiled at her, and it was like the sun coming up.
"You don't need to…"
"I do, need to," Myka interrupted gently. "You are an incredible woman, Helena. Worth crossing universes for," she said, grinning at Helena's eye-roll, "and I have been failing you. So I'd like to start again. I know that you and your Myka had your first kiss under that tree," she said, indicating the other large tree further up the garden, "and I thought maybe we could take that theme and run with it - start again, here."
Helena looked at her, her eyes sad.
"I miss her. So much, Myka. But then I see you… and I want to kiss you. I feel like I'm cheating, with my own wife."
"I know, Helena. This is a completely insane situation; we both know that. But we've been told that, barring a miracle, this is where we are. So we might as well make the best of it," Myka said, rubbing her thumb across Helena's knuckles soothingly. "I want to make you a promise. While I'm here, you're not alone. I'm here for you, in whatever capacity you need. I care about you, a lot. And I guess you know, since I was in love with my Helena… it's hard to not be in love with you. And I don't want you to feel under pressure or anything, but I just want you to know. Whatever you want, whatever you ask, whatever you need… I'll say yes. Always."
She paused for a moment and then leaned forward, just enough to reach Helena's cheek with her lips, inhaling Helena's scent, breathing in softly and chuckling quietly as she felt Helena shiver a little against her. She turned her head, a question in her eyes, and after a moment Helena closed the gap between them. They shared a kiss that was soft, not insistent or harsh or desperate. It was just, as Myka had said, a promise. Helena sighed and shifted a little, and Myka held out her arm. Helena moved closer and Myka enfolded her in her arms.
"It's a beautiful day," Helena murmured, and Myka agreed, kissing her hair and inhaling the scent. She had always loved how Helena smelled. It was the first thing that had alerted her to her attraction to Helena. You didn't tend to think that way about female friends. You might want to know what perfume they wore or what brand of shampoo they used, but you wouldn't want to get close to smell their hair again. It made Myka smile to remember how starry-eyed she was at meeting the HG Wells. It seemed like such a long time ago.
"I'm glad you're here," Helena said.
"I can't think of anywhere I'd rather be," Myka said, honestly. Helena sighed again, but this time it was a sigh of contentment.
It was a start. She couldn't fix what she'd done, but it was a start.
Myka was six months pregnant. It was almost midsummer and it was horrifyingly hot. She knew she was probably a complete nightmare to live with, but she didn't care. She was pissed off, tired, hot, and she felt like a manatee trapped on land.
She was sitting in the garden, on a reclining chair that Helena had made specially to fit her burgeoning body. There was a mechanism to raise it up and help her stand, and it was made of some sort of miracle material that her body sank into. It stayed cool in the heat and soothed her aching body. Helena had been a revelation, these past few months. They'd started off as adversaries in Boone, but since then, since they'd slept together the first time, when Helena had let Myka take what she needed, their relationship had become more. More tender, more loving. Myka was beginning to feel almost as secure and content as she had in her old world. And to add to both her confusion and her contentment, she'd gone to Colorado to spend Easter with her family. The family she'd lost years ago in her universe. Tracy had her baby a few days before the holiday so Myka got to spend a little time with the newborn, who they'd named after (this world's) Myka's dead boyfriend, Sam. Samuel Warren Fletcher. The little guy was wrinkled and pink and produced the most astonishing quantities of liquids from both ends. Myka had been repulsed at the beginning, since her first trimester nausea had not entirely abated, despite the promises of Dr Calder. But Helena was in her element, and she'd taught Tracy a few tricks about breastfeeding that had made things a lot more comfortable for her.
Her family had taken to Helena like she'd been around all their lives. She had turned on the charm, and Myka had watched in awe as first her mother and then her father fell under the onslaught. Helena had flirted shamelessly with Jean, and with Warren she'd won him over by talking about the time in which HG Wells had lived and how that had contributed to 'his' inspiration, something she had allegedly studied extensively. Myka chuckled to herself as her Dad grew starry-eyed, and when Tracy caught her watching, she laughed, wagging a finger at Myka.
"You've got it bad, you know that?" Tracy said, taunting, and Myka reddened. She did, indeed, have it bad, and for this Helena. This Helena who was interacting with her family, who was winning them over for Myka. This Helena who had taken a deep breath and jumped in with both feet, even though there were all sorts of reasons why Tracy's new baby would upset her, reminding her of Christina and all that she had lost. Myka missed her Helena, sometimes so intensely that she felt like her heart was twisting in her chest, but she'd had to face facts, to accept what had happened, and now her feelings for this world's Helena were strong and complex.
"So are you two getting married before the baby is born?" Tracy had asked, and Myka had smiled shyly.
"I know you wear the ring already, but unless there was a ceremony and we didn't hear about it, you guys haven't tied the knot yet, right?"
"You'd have to ask Helena about that," Myka had murmured, watching Helena sing to the baby, a lullaby she'd used to sing to Christina. In her world, Helena had begun to sing it to her belly every night before bed. Myka's eyes filled with tears at the memory.
"How are you feeling, darling?"
Myka jumped, and her mind returned to the present.
"Would you not sneak up on the pregnant lady, please?" Myka asked, her heart pounding. Helena apologised, smiling.
"I'm okay, thanks. A little hot," Myka admitted.
"I brought you some iced tea," Helena said, and passed her a sweating glass filled with ice and tea and all sorts of fruit. Abigail was doing her utmost to make sure Myka was well nourished, despite her distinct lack of cooking skill, and that meant lots of fresh fruit.
"It's hot out here. You should go inside. The air conditioning is working again," Helena said, and Myka breathed a silent sigh of relief. Helena and Claudia had taken it upon themselves, the previous day, to try to 'improve' the air conditioning, and as a result had made several rooms in the B&B uninhabitable due to some sort of deadly gas they'd accidentally created.
"I will. I was just enjoying the sun. Vitamin D is important," Myka said, and Helena smiled, sitting next to her.
"How was the Warehouse?" Myka asked. Helena had been offered reinstatement, and given a formal apology from all of the Regents who were in place when she was unBronzed. She'd eventually decided to become an Agent again, and Myka was heartened by how much she'd improved since then. She was a different woman to the one Myka had met in Boone. She was serene, confident, and content. The apology from the Regents had helped enormously, and she'd been seeing Abigail on a regular basis to deal with her grief and pain from Christina's death and her Bronzing.
"It was fine, darling. Inventory, you know how it is. Alternating between boring and terrifying, depending on how closely one is working with Agent Lattimer with his propensity for touching things he shouldn't," Helena said dryly.
"Did he restrain himself today?" Myka asked.
"Only just," Helena said. "I caught him in the cartoon aisle just before lunch. He wanted to talk to Bugs Bunny, he said. I told him if he caught me in a cartoon world, I wouldn't just drop him off a cliff or paint a tunnel on a wall, I would eviscerate him, and he could see how his insides looked in cartoon form. He clasped his hands together behind his back for the remainder of the day," Helena said, chuckling.
"What the hell did you do, to make him so terrified of you?" Myka asked curiously.
"I kissed him and then pulled his own gun on him," Helena said, and then laughed when she saw Myka's face darken. "Only to distract him so I could get away from you both in my old house," she said, and then corrected herself, "I mean the other you. They were hunting me, because James MacPherson had freed me from the Bronze sector and they assumed that meant I was a villain. I was, of course, back then. But they didn't know I was a woman, so I managed to distract Pete, the silly oaf, until Myka managed to catch me at gunpoint. After a little duplicity, I managed to use cavorite to stick them to the ceiling. Myka was most displeased about that, I can tell you," she said, and Myka smiled. She would have been so pissed to have been caught out by an opponent, and probably secretly thrilled to have met her idol. Their lives had been so different. It was fascinating, when it wasn't making her want to cry.
"Myka?" Helena said, hesitantly, and her tone made Myka's head turn immediately. Helena was kneeling on the floor next to Myka's recliner, a ring in her hand. Myka's heart immediately started galloping.
"I know that technically, you are already married. And I know that if the opportunity ever arose, you would return to your world without hesitation. But what I would like to offer you is my promise, that I will be your faithful and loving partner for as long as you are here, and I will be a parent to your children, and that I will be a loving support for you always. So if you will consent, I have arranged for a small ceremony in Univille next week. No fuss; just us and the rest of the gang and your family, and a nice dinner afterwards. I love you, Myka, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if that is at all possible."
Myka took a deep breath. This felt like hope and betrayal at once, and she didn't know which to go with. She closed her eyes and thought of her Helena, and she knew that Helena would want this for her. Stability, love, support… she would want it, she would encourage it, she would applaud it. Because she was selfless and giving and a beautiful soul. And Myka needed this, on a level she couldn't truly comprehend herself.
"Okay," she said, taking her sunglasses off with her right hand so that Helena could see her eyes. "Let's get married."
Helena looked at her uncertainly for a moment, but when she saw only sincerity and happiness in Myka's eyes, she smiled luminously. Myka looked at her ring finger, where her original wedding ring still sat, and after a moment, removed it and placed it on the ring finger of her right hand. She turned to Helena then and held out her left hand, wiping tears from her eyes with her free hand. Helena smiled at her again and placed the ring gently on Myka's ring finger.
"I love you, Helena," Myka said, and Helena leaned up and kissed her. Tears fell from their eyes until they could taste them, but they kissed anyway, because love and pain were intertwined now for them, in the same way that universes had intertwined to bring them together.
Helena was still conflicted and sad about all of this, but she had thought carefully before making this decision. Myka wanted her, she knew that, and she thought they might be building towards love, but there was more to consider. Myka was lost in a world not her own, and Helena knew a lot about that. She knew that the thing that mattered most was a tether, when one was lost. Myka Bering – the original from this world – had been her tether, and now it was time for Helena to return the favour for Myka's counterpart. That she would be a parent again had made the decision doubly difficult. She loved children, of course, but it was very difficult for her to deal with the idea of children because of how she had failed Christina. Abigail had helped her with that, and after a time it became clear to her that she wanted, needed to be a partner for Myka, someone she could depend on. Love wouldn't be a problem. They were almost there in any case, and time would take care of the rest. Marriage was a good first step, because it cleared up any uncertainty that still lingered about Helena's intentions. Myka had every reason to be uncertain, she felt, after Helena had run away to Boone. But she was here now and she wasn't leaving. She sighed as Myka smiled at her through tears, and reached up to kiss the woman she loved. The woman she was marrying. Things may not have started out in any sort of ideal way, but from now on she would be the woman that Myka deserved.
It had been a few weeks since Leena had talked to Myka about her behaviour, and Myka had, after a lot of consultation with the rest of the team, been spending a lot of time courting Helena. They'd been to art galleries, museums and restaurants, and they'd been to a variety of book readings and sporting events that Helena enjoyed. She was surprisingly into ice hockey, enjoying the brutality of it in a way that made Myka laugh. She cheered the broken-nosed players when they beat the crap out of each other, and it was so unlike what Myka would have expected from Helena that it delighted her.
They'd just attended a play that the local amateur theatre had put on, and Helena was humming as they walked, a bright smile on her face.
"Did you have fun?" Myka asked, squeezing Helena's arm a little.
"Oh, yes. It was marvellous. I have missed the theatre. They were surprisingly good for an amateur troupe, don't you think?" Helena enthused.
"I thought they were great. The orchestra was amazing. I've never seen Oklahoma before," Myka said, smiling at how enthusiastic Helena seemed.
"Thank you for taking me," Helena said, as they reached the door of the B&B. Leena opened the door, taking their coats from them and hanging them nearby.
"I left some tea and drinks in your room," she said, hustling them upstairs so quickly that Myka wasn't sure, when they reached the bedroom, that it had actually happened. Had Leena just sent them to bed? When they opened the door to the bedroom and stepped inside, Myka took a deep breath. Leena had sent them to bed for a reason. There were fresh flowers on many of the surfaces, lending the room a sweet fragrance, and there was tea and what looked like champagne in a bucket next to the bed. There was soft music playing in the background. Myka half expected Barry White, but Leena was a little more subtle than that. But only a little.
"Did you ask her to do this?" Helena asked, her mouth hanging open.
"No," Myka said honestly. "I… I'm as surprised as you are."
"I see. Well, Leena does like to take things into her own hands sometimes," Helena said thoughtfully.
"It would be a shame to let it go to waste," Myka said, smiling slightly, and raising an eyebrow at Helena.
"Would it, now?" Helena asked, her own eyebrows raised and a sly smile on her face.
Myka went to pour them both a glass of champagne, and she handed one to a bemused but smiling Helena.
"Are you okay with this?" Myka asked, taking a drink of the cold, bubbly liquid and smiling at Helena.
"Am I okay with drinking champagne with a beautiful woman in my bedroom? No, it's terrible," Helena said, a broad smile on her face.
"I mean… you know what I mean, Helena. I know you miss her," Myka said, her eyes downcast. Helena lifted her chin with a finger.
"I do miss her, Myka. But you are here, and I am so very glad about that," Helena said, her eyes on Myka's, utterly sincere.
Myka looked at the woman she'd grown to love in such a short time, her heart filled with all of the things she hadn't had the courage to say. She decided to take Leena's unspoken advice, and she leaned forward to kiss Helena, giving her plenty of time to back away if that was her desire. It was not, plainly. She kissed back as if she had been waiting for this moment her whole life, and Myka heard her champagne flute hit the carpet as Helena pulled Myka to her, her hands suddenly in Myka's hair, tangling at the curls and scratching at her scalp. It felt incredible, and Myka felt a rush of intense arousal as Helena's tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting of the cold champagne. She, too, dropped her champagne flute, suddenly needing to feel Helena against her. She pulled Helena closer, running her hands up her slim but strong arms, feeling the muscles contract as Helena pulled at her scalp. She slipped one hand up into Helena's hair, and when Helena bit her lip, she retaliated by pulling on Helena's hair. Helena's low groan pulled at her, and suddenly she couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She needed Helena more than she needed air, in that moment, and after pulling back for a moment to meet Helena's eyes, she began to take off her shirt, pulling it over her head and throwing it into the corner of the room.
Helena began to undress, her eyes on Myka the whole time, and she was so incredibly beautiful that Myka could barely breathe. She half-dragged Helena to the bed and kissed her insistently. When she pulled away they were both red-faced and breathless.
"Is this okay?" Myka asked, suddenly anxious.
Helena laughed. "Are you serious, Myka? I've been waiting for you to do this for weeks. I need this. I need you."
"Me, or her?" Myka asked quietly.
"You," Helena said. "You and she are not the same, Myka, despite all appearances. My Myka was much more… domineering. She was harder than you, she was always the strong one. But I love you for all the ways that you are different. Your softness, your lack of certainty sometimes. That adorable snort you do when you laugh. And I love you for all the ways you are the same. Your heart. Your confidence. Your – what is it that Claudia calls it? – inner geek. I love you for all of those things, and so many more. You… you amaze me, Myka. I told you before, and I will tell you again. Whether it's you, or the original Myka from this world – I love you. You amaze me, and I love you."
Myka stared at Helena for a few seconds before leaning in to kiss her, taking off the rest of her own clothes and Helena's as their kisses became more fervent, and they managed to make it under the covers before they were both crying out at the intensity of this moment, of the feelings that had been below the surface, of their need for each other. Myka had never managed to even kiss her Helena, and now here she was, making love to a version of Helena Wells that she'd never imagined existing. And Helena, after losing her family in one fell swoop, needed Myka, needed her close and inside and all around, to keep her grounded and sane. They moved with one another and found safety and release together. Helena held Myka close after they had tired themselves out, whispering in her ear about how precious she was, and Myka was overwhelmed. Both with the physical sensations, and the wonder of being here with a Helena who adored her. She managed not to cry, but it was close. She had everything she wanted here, in this bed, with Helena. But at what cost? She pushed the thought away, concentrating instead on the here and now, the love she shared with this woman. She had crossed universes to find Helena, and while she had regrets, being here, in this moment, was not one of them.
Five years later
Myka and Helena stood holding hands as they watched their daughter, Leena, walk into her classroom for the first time. She'd gone to kindergarten, of course, but this was elementary school and they were both thrilled and terrified. Their daughter was growing up, and that was great. That was what every parent wanted. But she was growing up, and it was happening so fast. Helena grimaced as Myka squeezed her hand a little too tightly.
"I know you're nervous, darling, but do please try not to break my fingers. You're stronger than you think," Helena said, chuckling as Myka turned to apologise.
"I'm sorry, honey," she said, aghast, examining Helena's fingers carefully.
"It's all right, I'm just a little bruised, love," Helena said. Myka kissed her fingers.
"What are we going to do without her at the B&B during the day?" Myka asked.
"Well, we might actually get to have a shag every now and then," Helena said in mock exasperation.
"You shut your pie-hole, Helena Bering-Wells. You get yours, and everyone in that B&B knows it," Myka said, her eyes narrowing.
"All right, all right," Helena said, holding up her hands in surrender. "It was a joke, Mrs Bering-Wells. You keep me well satisfied. No lesbian bed death for us."
"Damn right," Myka said, smiling in satisfaction. Helena smiled back, her grin wide, and they both laughed and then cried as Leena came running out of the classroom to kiss and hug them both and tell them that she would miss them, before running back inside.
It had been a long journey, Myka mused as they drove back to the B&B. Leena's birth had been a traumatic one, and Myka had almost died from blood loss after the birth. Helena had been frantic, terrified that Myka had crossed universes only to die and leave her alone with a baby. Myka did survive, of course, and Leena had grown up to be healthy and happy – at least thus far. But Myka couldn't have any more children. That had broken her heart, at first. Helena had helped her see that they were still a family, and Leena had cousins in Colorado – Sam and now a girl cousin, Christina. When Tracy had learned that Helena had a child, and that she'd passed away, there was no stopping her. Christina was almost 3, and she followed Leena around like a shadow every time they visited. Claudia was seeing a young man who used to work with Steve at the ATF, and it looked like they might get married soon. Pete, too, had met someone, a lovely woman who was a nurse at a clinic in Featherhead. Gina was a wonderful person, and her brand of calm empathy had settled Pete a lot.
Myka and Helena didn't do retrievals any more, except for special occasions. Pete and Steve were still a team, and Claudia had almost finished her training to take over from Mrs Frederic. Artie was planning to retire within the next year. Dr Calder was getting impatient to retire, and that had been the largest factor in his decision. He'd never expected Vanessa to agree to marry him, so he'd been caught on the hop, somewhat, when she asked him when he was retiring so they could go on their honeymoon. Once he hung up his steampunk goggles, Myka and Helena would be taking over the running of the Warehouse. It had been Claudia's idea for them to share the job, share the responsibilities, and for them both to stay out of the field.
"Leena needs her moms," she'd said, finishing her argument with a flourish. Helena and Myka had exchanged rueful looks and shrugged, and it was agreed. Neither of them wanted to stop going out in the field. The excitement of solving puzzles together had brought them together, brought them closer, and had provided a firm foundation for their relationship to grow. But it was time, and they had a daughter who needed them.
"So, whatever shall we do with our free time," Helena asked, twirling one of Myka's curls around her finger.
"I have no idea," Myka said, sighing. Helena took her arm and led her back to the car, where she leaned over and kissed Myka thoroughly.
"I do – have an idea, that is," Helena said, with a grin.
They made love and lay there, tangled in sheets, relishing the freedom to make love in the afternoon, enjoying the light streaming through the open windows.
"Do you ever miss her?" Helena asked, idly.
"Who?" Myka asked, confused.
"Your Helena," she replied, her eyes dark and unfathomable.
Myka turned to her, her eyes bright in the morning sun.
"You are my Helena," she said, holding Helena's eyes.
Helena kissed her fervently, and they made love until they had to dress, hurriedly, to pick up their daughter from school. Helena watched her wife drive the car, her hands making confident movements on the wheel. The muscles in her forearms tensed and released with her movements, and Helena couldn't help but stare. Myka Bering-Wells was effortlessly sexy. She was different from the original Myka from this world, of course, but also the same in many ways. Her heart was the same; strong, beautiful, open. Two versions of Myka Bering had saved her from herself – the first, at Yellowstone, and the second, in a suburban home in Wisconsin. She couldn't possibly have loved Myka more, and while the way things had happened was not ideal, she didn't think she could be happier than she was, right now, in this moment. In any universe.
Helena watched as Myka took down the last of their opponents with a particularly devastating clothesline manoeuvre. She gave her partner a round of applause, and Myka turned to give her a slightly mocking bow.
"The cops can take care of these guys," Myka said dismissively, placing the artefact, which caused extreme aggression in the bearer, in a static bag. It sparked impressively and the men on the ground – all seven of them – groaned as the influence of the artefact left them.
"You know, I never get tired of watching you do that," Helena remarked as they returned to their SUV. Myka had finally given in and admitted that while she thought electric cars were the way forward environmentally, she preferred the larger SUVs because they gave her more leg room.
"Do what?" Myka asked, prying a stubborn tendril of hair from the corner of her mouth as she climbed into the car.
"Fighting the bad guys. Saving the day. You're so… strong and dominant. I love it," Helena said, feeling slightly breathless.
"Helena Bering-Wells, are you – as the lovely Claudia would put it – horny?" Myka asked, her mouth open in pretend shock.
"I'm afraid so," Helena admitted, with a glint in her eye.
"I see," Myka said, letting her free hand fall to Helena's thigh, kneading slightly. "I might be able to help you with that," she said, in a slow drawl. Helena's breath caught in her throat.
It had been a long time since they'd had a chance to stay in a hotel overnight alone. The B&B was wonderful; Leena made sure of that. And there was a sound-cancelling system in place to give them some sort of privacy. However, they were always aware of the other inhabitants of the B&B, and it was difficult, sometimes, to completely lose oneself in the moment when a friend is only a thin wall away. Myka chuckled as Helena practically dragged her to their hotel room, stripping her before the door had even properly closed. Myka let herself be pulled into the extra-large bathroom, into the hot tub, and they enjoyed a hedonistic evening together, ordering room service and feeding each other dessert. Things got rather out of hand when the ice cream was added to the equation, but both were satisfied (if a little sticky) by the time they finally slept.
Before she fell asleep, Helena chuckled as she heard a sleepy Myka murmur, "you know, on reflection, the chocolate chips in the ice cream might have been a mistake."
The following morning they woke up wrapped up in each other (and stuck together in some places). They spent a quiet morning together, showering and eating in silence, occasionally smiling at one another.
"You know, it's been way too long," Myka said reflectively. "I've missed this."
"Me too," Helena said, squeezing Myka's hand. They were sitting at the small table in the hotel room, reading the morning papers and enjoying the view of Lake Erie from the balcony window.
"Do you ever miss it?" Myka asked.
"Miss what?" Helena asked, confused. She still hadn't looked up from her paper.
"Your own world. Your wife, your baby. Your life," Myka said softly.
Helena stayed silent for a second as she absorbed what Myka had said, and then her head snapped up. She looked at Myka almost severely, like a schoolmistress about to tell off a student. In any other circumstance, her expression would have made Myka chuckle.
"You are my Myka," she said insistently. "The Myka from this world was lost to me; just as lost as she would have been had she died. I have mourned the loss and I fell in love with you, for who you are. There are things that you share with her, and things that are different. You are a little softer than she was. You are – or were, at first – a little less certain than she was. But you are my life. You and I have been together for a long time, Myka. You and I have a life together that I did not share with the original Myka from this world, my love. I am sure that if she had stayed here, if things had not happened as they did, we would have been very happy. But I meant what I said all those years ago, love. I didn't want you to go back to your universe, to a Helena who didn't appreciate you, and while I missed her – and the idea of a child, because of course she was only a little pregnant at the time – our life together now is more than equal to that. You steadied me through the loss of her and the baby, and that was no easy feat. I was more unstable, more lost then, than I had been since Christina's death. You make me so happy, my love. I would not – could not – want anyone else."
Myka stared at her, her eyes filled with tears.
"I love you so much, honey," she said, leaning over to kiss Helena fervently. "I love you."
Helena moved to straddle Myka where she sat on her chair, and they spent an enjoyable ten minutes or so making out like teenagers.
"What about you?" Helena said, eventually. "Do you ever wish you'd been able to go back, instead of staying here?"
"No," Myka said, shaking her head vehemently. "My regret is that I stranded the other Myka there, that I took your wife away from you, and I will probably never stop feeling the guilt of that. But me? I made a wish, inadvertently, for a Helena who loved me. And I found her. I found you. I don't know what happened with my other self, with the universe that I came from, but I still believe that I got the best part of the bargain. I got an incredible woman who loved me like no-one else ever has. I found a family at the Warehouse. I got to find Leena again. And yeah, I lost my own family, and I won't pretend that didn't devastate me. But you, Helena – you changed everything for me. You made me believe I was worth something. Because if someone like you could love me, I must be worth something. And we have an amazing family and a job that we both love. I wake up some mornings and I still pinch myself, Helena. I will probably never stop feeling guilty about how I got here, but at the same time I can't regret it. Because I have never been this happy."
They kissed again, and after a time, they moved to the bed to finish what they'd started.
"Shall we go home then, Mrs Bering-Wells?" Helena asked, much later, and Myka nodded.
They got ready and took the interminable flight back to Sioux Falls, followed by a long drive to Univille. When they got home, however, they were re-energised by the shouts from the house. Pete and Kelly's kids, Daniel and David – named after Pete's father and uncle – were shouting at the top of their lungs, and there was a higher set of piping voices belonging to Christina and Samantha, Helena and Myka's twins.
"Girls, your moms are home!" Leena announced, and Myka and Helena were soon met with a tornado of small children, shouting "Mom," "Mummy," and "Aunt Mykes" and Myka's favourite, "Aunt Hels." Pete had encouraged his boys to refer to Helena as Aunt Hels, and despite her initial objections, the nickname had stuck. She didn't look terribly annoyed, Myka had to admit, watching her being climbed by their twins as the boys ran around her making whooping noises.
The twins had jet black straight hair, green eyes and pale freckled skin. They were the result of an accident in the fertility artefact aisle, and a clumsy Pete Lattimer. He'd tripped over the dodgeballs, again, and this time he'd been alone. The cascade of dodgeballs had ended up halfway down the Warehouse were Myka and Helena were working. Several fertility idols from a variety of ancient cultures had been dislodged from their shelves, and the resultant spike in artefact energy had caught both Helena and Myka in its grip. 9 months later Helena gave birth to the twins, who were a perfect combination of both mothers. It was, as Leena said at the time, as if the Warehouse wanted to give something to Helena after it failed to return her wife and child to her.
Myka and Helena made their way into the B&B slowly, encumbered by children and luggage and general chaos. They handed off the artefact to Claudia, who disapparated to the Warehouse with it before returning in time for dinner. She'd taken months to perfect her disappearing act after becoming Caretaker. Mrs Frederic had passed away quietly in her sleep and the link to the Warehouse had been passed to Claudia that same night. After some trial and error, she had managed to scare the shit out of every single member of the Warehouse team, including, to her great glee, Artie. (He pretended to have a heart attack the next time she did it, in retaliation, and she never did it again.)
Myka looked around at her little family, her wife, her children, Pete and his wife and kids, Claudia and Leena, Artie and Vanessa, and her heart felt like it was swelling. She had loved her world, had cared deeply for the other versions of these people. But something about this world made her feel like she truly belonged. She had meant what she said to Helena earlier – she was guilty about making the wish that brought her here. She was guilty for taking away Helena's wife and baby. But she couldn't truly regret it. She was happier than she'd ever been, and Helena seemed to be. They'd made a beautiful family together, and she couldn't regret that. She had a feeling, too, that things in the other world had worked out in a similar fashion. She didn't know why, but she felt like the other Myka was happy and content with her Helena; that they had somehow made things work out between them.
This Helena was so different from the original Helena from Myka's world. Her circumstances were entirely different to the original Helena. Her daughter died too, but from disease, not human evil. She hadn't therefore been consumed with the same kind of rage and hatred that had almost destroyed the other Helena. She was full of hope, even after the Bronze. The kind of hope that had made HG Wells' novels such an inspiration to Myka when she was growing up. And she loved in such an uncomplicated way. There was no doubt in Myka's mind that this Helena would do anything for her. In the original world, Myka and Helena's relationship was fraught with betrayal, at Yellowstone and in Boone. Helena had a darkness to her that Myka felt like she would never be able to entirely forget. In some ways, by dissolving all those years ago, the artefact – the locket – had done them all a favour. Because the other Myka, the Myka who'd originally been in love with this Helena? She would love the original Helena Wells, the one who had almost destroyed the world, in the same uncomplicated way she loved this Helena. And Myka didn't think that the original Helena would be able to resist that Myka – a Myka who was both more dominant than the original, and who was pregnant and lost in a new world.
"Darling, could you grab Sam? She's a bit huffy because Daniel doesn't want to play with her because she's younger than Christina. Bloody kids. They were born about 10 minutes apart, for God's sake," Helena said, with a smile.
"Sure, honey," Myka said, and she went to find her huffy 'younger' daughter before all hell broke loose. She smiled ruefully before deciding that she definitely wouldn't have it any other way. Infinite universes existed, but this one was hers, and she was keeping it, thank you very much.
The (actual) end.
