Chapter 4
Weeks went by with no contact from HG Wells. Weeks of sleepless nights. Weeks when it seemed to Myka that HG's hold over her grew stronger each day, instead of disintegrating in the other woman's painful absence. Every day, every minute, Myka wondered about her. Wondered what she was up to. If she was safe. Who she was talking with. Wondered if HG thought about her. And she could never quite shake the feeling that HG was watching her every move.
HG Wells had come up occasionally as topic of conversation at the Warehouse. Myka walked away, keeping her silence. She wasn't able to sit and listen to their slander, their lies. But she wasn't quite able to defend HG either. Who would believe it? It would only serve to draw unwanted attention to herself. And as it stood, the others hadn't quite stopped looking at her like she was crazy. Claudia not so much as Pete and Artie. Myka likes to think Claudia saw it too- that different side to HG Wells. Not at the same magnitude as Myka saw it, but something. Still, they never speak of it.
It's Pete who noticed something wasn't quite right with Myka, being the one she spent most of her time with, the intuitive one. On more than one occasion he had caught her staring off into space. Finally, he couldn't let it go on any longer.
She hears the knock at the door of her motel room while they are on a case in Florida.
"Are you ok?" Pete asks her when she opens the door to him wearily.
"Of course I am. Why would you ask?" She answers quickly. She will have to try harder to be in the here and now. Her own bitter experience taught her what happens to agents in the field who allow themselves to be distracted. For his sake, for hers, she will have to try harder to get it together.
"It kind of bugs me." He tells her as he invites himself inside.
"I'm sorry." She tells him. "You're right, I've been distracted. I haven't been sleeping well. You deserve better. Tomorrow I promise my mind is on the job." She assures him.
"Not that." He clarifies.
She is afraid to ask 'What then?' So she waits for him to spit it out.
"It's not like you. Going against Artie's orders like that." He announces awkwardly.
"What are you talking about?"
"You and Claudia ran into HG Wells and you never mentioned it to him. It just doesn't sit right with me." He admits.
She had never stopped to think Pete might be struggling with this, that he might not feel he could trust her anymore.
"Artie was sick..." She protests feebly, hearing the catch in her own voice and knowing that it didn't come anywhere close to satisfying him.
"He wasn't that sick. And you could have mentioned it to me. But you said nothing, you just let her go." He accuses. "Do you have any idea how dangerous she is? I just don't understand what you were thinking."
"Excuse me, I was a little distracted saving Claudia's life." Myka defends herself. The trembling terror in her voice is all too real, as she recollects just how close she had come to losing Claudia. She doesn't bother with her protests of how HG Wells helped them, saved Claudia's life. She doesn't bother with her moral arguments about the evils of bronzing. Pete doesn't want to hear it, and it would only dig her in deeper. She can't fight the tears welling up in her eyes, and she can't tell anymore if they are tears for Claudia or something else. "I suppose that was my fault too. She's just a kid, and I was responsible for her in the field, and I almost got her killed." Myka adds.
She sees him hesitate, realising he has pushed a nerve. Hopefully she has made him uncomfortable enough to stop him looking too closely at her. To stop him wondering just what is eating her alive. .
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." His voice trails off. "It wasn't your fault Myka. And Claudia is ok..." He knows he is in dangerous territory.
"Goodnight Pete." She tells him as she shoves him out the door, closing it firmly behind him.
Sleep deprivation leads to insanity, and she can't remember the last time she slept. If she did chance to fall asleep, she found herself sucked down into tormenting nightmares about HG Wells. About bronzing. About everything. And nothing. She dreamed of darkness, tormenting piercing darkness. Of Screaming, horror filled screaming. Emptiness, reaching out for something she can never grasp. Of falling. Of the sky falling on her. She dreams of being bronzed. Frozen in time. She can't move, can't see, can't breathe. She is powerless, helpless, frustrated. But unlike death, there is no peace. Relief never comes.
She already knows, she won't sleep tonight.
And even though she has been thinking about nothing but HG Wells in the long lonely weeks, she is stunned as she turns from the door she had all but slammed in Pete Lattimer's face, and catches sight of the note on her pillow- seemingly appeared from nowhere.
'Meet me downstairs. The water fountain. Midnight. It's important.'
The note isn't signed. But Myka recognises the handwriting instantly. HG Wells.
It's difficult for Myka to believe she isn't dreaming, for she had dreamed many times of this. Her breath is stolen, her heart racing. She is suddenly aware of her own inadequate appearance. She is nervous. Shy. Her hands are shaking as she stands at the water fountain waiting.
"Agent Bering." She hears the melodic voice calling her name, and spins around to face the other woman.
She doesn't draw her gun this time, that game is growing wearisome. There is no need for pretence like that any longer. They have moved passed it.
"HG." Myka acknowledges her, wondering to herself why it feels so natural to use the initials instead of calling her by her first name.
There is awkward silence. HG smiles, enchantingly.
Myka finds herself suddenly uncomfortable. "You shouldn't have come here. Pete is upstairs. If he sees you..." She looks over her shoulder, paranoia sinking in. And partly just to avoid meeting HG in the eyes. The intensity radiating from the other woman is suffocating. Myka's heart fills with dread as she imagines Pete glancing outside his window right at that moment. As she imagines just what Pete would do if he encountered HG Wells. She couldn't have that on her conscience. "You should leave." Myka warns her.
"Don't fret, I've taken care of Agent Lattimer." HG assures her.
Myka tells herself she ought to be concerned by that prospect. Or in the very least curious as to the predicament her partner has found himself in. But there is only relief.
HG steps closer, that way she always did, closing the gap between them. She takes Myka by the hand "Relax." HG tells her gently. And suddenly there is nothing in the world, only HG Wells. Only her soft smooth skin caressing Myka's own hand, only her melodic voice softly whispering in Myka's ear "Trust me."
Everything else ceases to exist.