Helena and Pete jointly managed to lift Myka from the car, but her strength flagged ever more with every added leg of their small journey, and it took a great deal of time to coax her up the stairs. Helena had tried to muster a smile for Claudia and Savannah while they made for the kitchen to prepare the meal that Mrs. Frederic had advised, but she was nearly certain that she had managed but a grimace for the two young women as her concern continued to climb.
Myka hardly had the energy to speak, let alone move, and though she'd made a decent and relatively convincing effort to mask the fear and heartbreak in her eyes, Helena was not fooled. But she had vowed that she would abide by Myka's wishes to discuss the cause at an undefined 'later' point in time, and she intended to adhere to it, despite her own worries.
When they had finally gotten Myka onto the bed, Helena sat beside her against the headboard and just held Myka's icy body to hers, soothing her hands over Myka's shoulders in a seemingly futile attempt to generate some heat. While Myka's chill had ceased under the care of dancing lights and warm colors, Helena had, with great displeasure, noticed that the shivers had returned on the drive back to the inn.
Sighing worriedly, Helena tucked her cheek to the side of Myka's head, feeling that she should be doing something more for Myka – anything more – but she knew of nothing. As little help as it provided, Helena feared that this simple act of cradling Myka against her would have to suffice, as it was all that she could presently offer, as much as it pained her.
"Okay," Pete said, fumbling over the blanket that he'd been fretfully tucking around Myka for the better part of the last five minutes, "we're gonna get you some food, Mykes! And enough books to last you until you're all healed up. I'll try to pick out some good ones," he scrunched up his face, "but I kinda suck at library things, so I'll probably have to ask HG to help. 'Cause she knows about stuff like that."
Pete was rambling, and Helena could discern that he was concerned, but she remained quiet. She had little comfort to extend to him, as she was in a similar state – and, though she couldn't be sure, she also sensed that this was a conversation for the two partners to share without interruption from her.
"Pete," Myka murmured softly.
"Oh!" The man exclaimed, abruptly snapping his fingers. "And some Twizzlers. I'll snag some of those, too. Don't worry, Mykes – I got you covered!"
"Pete," Myka said again, gently, but with more force, and Helena couldn't resist her desire to place a long, tender kiss to her lover's temple for the kindness that layered in her voice, despite the clear effort that it had taken her to make the small assertion.
"No," Pete shook his head. "We're not doing this, Myka," he said seriously. "You're gonna be fine."
"That's my line," Myka sighed.
Pete grinned. "Yeah, well, you can barely hit a whisper right now, so I had to say it just in case I couldn't hear you. Seriously, you gotta speak up, Mykes."
"I'm going to be fine, Pete," Myka exhaled anyway, offering a small smile that hardly covered any of her mouth. But the sentiment behind it was evident and sincere, and for a moment, Helena thought Pete looked like a boy – but not the playful, overeager one who (often inappropriately) fountained off dirty jokes; this boy was vulnerable and frightened, and had seen his fair share of loss and desperation. But, with a swift recovery that Helena momentarily allowed herself to admire, Pete reached down and squeezed Myka's hand.
"Well, you gotta be. 'Cause you and me go out together, right? We made a deal. Shook on it, and everything. No funny business, Mykes," he said, pointing at her with a feigned expression of grave seriousness.
Myka chuckled, but shuddered and burrowed deeper into the blankets with a small, pained noise that tore at Helena's heart.
"I'll be back in a few minutes," Pete promised. "You just hang tight and let HG take good, lovin' care of you while I'm gone. If you ask me," he grinned at Helena, and she lifted a brow curiously, "I think she's a little smitten with ya, Mykes. I mean, she out-Fredericed Mrs. Frederic back there. That's gotta get her some serious brownie points, right?"
Myka rolled her eyes, but smiled and expended what could only have been some of her last reserves of energy to roll onto her side and drape her arm over Helena's waist. "So many brownie points," she mumbled.
"Alright then," Pete nodded decisively and shared a nervous glance with Helena. "Just rest up. I'll be back soon," he said, and he left the room in search of the food that he'd clearly determined was the key to healing Myka's illness.
"Rest, darling," Helena hushed in her ear once the door had eased to a close.
"Helena," Myka whispered, hugging her side tightly as she sank down the bed so that her head rested at Helena's hip, and she could tuck the blanket beneath her chin.
Helena followed her into the warmth of the covers so that she could resume their close contact. She felt a bit guilty, because although she knew that her touch soothed Myka to a certain degree, she was sure that she was maintaining their full-bodied snuggling for her own comfort as much as Myka's – but Helena thought it was acceptable, since it helped Myka to feel better. And she was certain that Myka wouldn't mind if she needed a bit of consolation, as well.
"Myka," Helena touched their foreheads together, and murmured earnestly, "it's alright. We needn't discuss anything now. You've been given quite a bit to consider this afternoon. I only wish for you to get well, my love."
Myka nodded, but she scarcely managed to breathe, "I saw – " But she broke off and heaved in a shattering breath, before somehow gathering the strength to rasp, "The astrolabe. You were gone," she meekly whimpered with wet eyes. "I – " Nothing followed, and with the shudder of Myka's shoulders and the slackening of her frame against Helena's, she could discern that Myka simply didn't have to energy to speak anything else.
"Oh, darling," Helena crooned, and gathered her lover tight in her arms. She had been briefed on the experience with the astrolabe, but she had no personal recollection of it. She would do it again, if it meant Myka's life – she would do it in a heartbeat – but she had never mentioned the astrolabe to Myka in much detail; she wasn't sure how much Myka had known of it, and she certainly had no intention of sharing her sacrifice with Myka, because she knew that it would break her heart.
And, evidently, it had.
"Myka, listen to me," Helena said lovingly, bending a single, beautiful curl off of Myka's cheek and putting it to rest behind her ear, "what I did – what I've been told that I did," Helena corrected, "was an action of love. For you, Myka. From what we've learnt today, I know that you must have felt something, though from whom I'm not certain, but – "
"Me," Myka croaked. "It was my file."
Helena wondered briefly why Myka would have chosen to investigate her own history, amidst the opportunity to look into so many others – but she recalled that Myka had been justifiably overwhelmed by the pressure of being delegated to protect all of those people, and it only made sense that she would seek refuge from their pasts by looking into the only one that she had already managed to cope with. Apparently, however, these 'files' were not simply memories, but an actual account of every emotion and feeling that a person had experienced – and Myka had unearthed an experience that she had previously remembered nothing of.
"Myka," Helena sighed painfully, circling smooth, drawn out circles to the agent's back, "I can't imagine how you must have felt…"
And the wounded sound that followed had Helena all but crunching Myka in her hold, and she instantly felt remorse for her insensitivity; she couldn't imagine how Myka would have felt, but Myka didn't need to imagine it. For all intents and purposes, her lover had lived the experience.
"Never have I seen such kindness and generosity as I have witnessed in you, Myka," Helena divulged lovingly, though the tight grip of her fingers to Myka's hip reflected how difficult this was for her to validate while Myka was so immensely suffering from something that she had done. "To deprive the world of you when I could think of a way to prevent it – " Helena shook her head with tearful eyes. "I could never have done such a thing. I would have been happy to offer you life, Myka – even if it was at the expense of my own. I have lived, darling. I have lived far longer than anyone should, and I have seen progress as no man has before. It did not arrive in the way that I had hoped," she admitted softly, "but I have travelled through time, Myka, and I have accomplished more than most in my time on this earth. I would not only have been happy to give up the time that I have stolen to be here, I would have been honored, and so very proud to have made that exchange."
Myka was quiet for a long time, and when quivering tears escaped from the corners of Myka's eyes, Helena swallowed thickly and brushed them away with caring thumbs.
"Apples," Myka scraped, scanning her face with wide, hurt eyes. "You smelt apples."
And Helena smiled. "I smelt a great number of them today," she shared quietly.
Myka wanted to discuss this further, and if that was what she desired, then Helena would indulge her – but not now. Myka was not fortified enough for this, and though Helena understood that she had needed to vocalize what she had borne witness to, she would not perpetuate Myka's illness any more than necessary.
So she had changed the course of the discussion, instead. She told Myka of Caturanga, and of his proclamation that the scent of apples conveyed the Warehouse's affection. She artfully recited tales of her time with her mentor, pleased when Myka slowly began to relax further into her and eventually succumbed to much needed sleep.
Twenty minutes later, Savannah tentatively knocked at the door before gliding through it with a tray of what looked to be soup and a sandwich, with Pete and Claudia quietly towing behind her.
"Should we wake her up?" Claudia fidgeted. "I know she has to eat and stuff," she said, gesturing with her hands, "but she needs sleep, too, right? I mean, she had a really big day and with all of the stuff going on in her head…" She trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
"I'll wake her in a moment," Helena decided softly. "I'd like to give her a bit longer to rest."
Savannah sat down at the edge of the bed, and, with a tender motion that seemed inherently against her loud personality, she stroked Myka's hair from her face.
"Dude, she's gonna be okay," Claudia said, reaching out to touch Savannah's shoulder.
"I know," Savannah replied. "Mykey always is."
It was said with the confidence of a child, with the utmost faith in their parents' abilities, and Helena could see here, more than in any of Savannah's previous actions or words, that she sincerely viewed Myka as her parent. It shouldn't have affected her so; she had known that Myka had mothered her and taken in her in – that she had taught Savannah what a home was truly meant to be – but Myka's warm influence never failed to stun her, and Savannah embodied all of that.
"I brought some Twizzlers," Pete said, setting them on the nightstand. "I'm gonna stop by the Warehouse later to get the books," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Or maybe I'll ask Steve to get them," he considered.
Helena nodded. "Be sure to get something of Byron's," she advised. "It soothes her."
Savannah snorted. "Grab some of HG's stuff, too. Maybe you'll give her a private reading," she winked at Helena.
Helena chuckled softly, relieved for the slight diffusion of tension, in spite of her concern. The position of Protector was not a new one, and quite clearly, others had made it through this straining integration. But Mrs. Frederic had shared very little about how the process worked, or even if every chosen Protector had survived it – and seeing Myka in such a fragile state left them with many questions and great concern.
Helena intended to receive answers for the former upon Mrs. Frederic's arrival the following day – and she sincerely hoped that the concern would be alleviated upon attaining those answers.
Author's Note: A couple of you guessed that Myka saw Helena after Christina's death. I tampered with that idea to begin with, but I think Myka would avoid looking for that memory, because she knows it's so private. And I especially think that she would avoid immersing herself in that part of Helena's past while surrounded by the entire Warehouse team. Anyway, let me know how I did, guys. Thanks, as always!