This was probably the most difficult chapter for me to write so far, I hope you like it. I really hope I'm doing the characters justice. Please let me know what you think, I would really appreciate it!
Chapter five: Everyone has their scars
Myka and Helena tried to find Pete after his little outburst so they could apologize, but he seemed to have disappeared. He probably hoped that if he left the two of them alone together long enough, they would be more pleasant upon his return.
They called his name as they searched the streets and nearby buildings. "Pete?" Myka shouted. "Pete, where are you?"
The sun had gone down a while ago, and Myka wanted to continue searching, but Helena had to talk her out of it. She gently grasped the taller woman's arm and said, "Myka, it's dark out, we should probably find a place to stay for the night."
Myka frowned. "But we can't just leave him out there alone!"
"I'm sure Pete knows how to take care of himself," Helena reassured. "Besides, I don't think he wants to be found right now."
Myka looked into the distance, searching for any sign of Pete for a few more seconds before she pursed her lips and reluctantly nodded, letting Helena lead her through the nearby neighborhood and into one of the less dilapidated houses.
Helena and Myka set down their backpacks in the front room of the house. "Just try to get some rest. We can keep looking for Pete once the sun comes up," Helena said.
Myka shook her head as she unrolled her sleeping bag and searched her backpack for some food. Rest, that's not going to happen, she thought. She successfully fished out a granola bar from her backpack and looked up to find that Helena had left the room. The front door was open so she assumed she went outside. Myka quickly ate her snack and drank some water before following HG to the front of the house.
She found Helena sitting on the bottom porch step, looking up at the night sky once again, just like first night Myka found her awake. She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms, watching Helena gaze into the dark abyss, head tilted, a small, sad smile on her lips.
The way the moonlight hit her face, Myka noticed, made her look pale white, but it was a beautiful kind of pale. Myka stayed in the doorway for a few more seconds, her lips quirking up a bit as she watched the other woman. Myka took a deep breath, she knew she had to do this now before she lost her nerve, so she sat down next to Helena on the porch. "Pete's right, you know." Helena looked at her questioningly. "I have been kind of a bitch," she admitted.
"Yes, you have," Helena stated. Myka raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "And, I suppose, I shouldn't have been teasing you so much. I knew what sort of response you would have." Myka nodded, but HG wasn't finished. "I have tried being nice to you though. I just don't understand why you keep doing this."
"I know," Myka said. "You don't deserve that. It's just, I don't—I can't get close to people." Myka looked down and closed her eyes, struggling to find the words to say. Helena put a hand on her shoulder, urging her to continue, letting her know that she was listening. Myka opened her eyes, but didn't look up. She spoke.
"I lost someone that I care about. A partner. He worked with me and Pete before you came. It was one of those rare times where Artie assigned us a city that was overrun." Myka paused. Recounting this was difficult. Thinking about it was almost like reliving it. "San Francisco," she eventually continued. "We studied the place for weeks: the zombies, where they were mostly located, what times they were more aggressive, everything. We came up with a plan—a flawless plan—on how to get rid of the infestation in the city."
Helena didn't know why Myka decided to open up to her this much, but she wasn't going to question it. She listened. She wanted to show Myka that she cared.
"Sam—that's his name, Sam—he was leading us into the city. I was trailing twenty feet behind him. Pete was the same distance behind me. It was our…strategic lineup. Everything was going perfectly, but what we didn't know was that a few more zombies had come into the city the night before. But what difference could a few more zombies make, right?" Myka shook her head and closed her eyes. "They make all the fucking difference."
Helena could hear the anger in Myka's voice. It was difficult to know how much she was hurting. "You don't have to…" Helena started, but Myka cut her off.
"Sam turned onto a street that was supposed to be clear, but apparently that's where the new residents were. When I heard his gun fire, I knew something was wrong. I ran after him, but—"
Myka's voice broke. She could still see it when she closed her eyes: Sam lying dead on the ground, with two zombies on top of him and tearing at his flesh, killing the monsters then running to his side. She couldn't keep the tears from falling down her cheeks. Myka opened her eyes when she felt a comforting hand on her knee. Helena gave her a sympathetic smile.
Myka quickly wiped the tears from her eyes and open her mouth, trying to continue, but nothing was coming out. She stared blankly ahead, trying to form words. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, unable to continue. "I had to shoot him," she said eventually. "I had to shoot him in the head or he was going to come back and—"
Myka was crying again. This time, Helena put an arm around her, pulling her into an embrace. Myka buried her face into Helena's shoulder and threw her arms around the smaller woman. She didn't know why she was sharing so much, and she didn't know why she was letting herself cry in front of someone who was practically a stranger, but she knew that it felt better to have comforting arms around her, holding her, and a voice whispering soft, soothing words into her ear. Someone who at least seemed to care.
Myka didn't know how long she was crying, but eventually she lifted her head from Helena's shoulder. She didn't continue her story anymore. She just sat in silence, looking at the ground. Helena could see the pain in her, and she wanted to make it better somehow. But she had to ask, "You loved him, didn't you?"
Slowly, and without looking up, Myka nodded. "I don't want to go through that pain again," she whispered helplessly. "That's why I shut people out. That's why I've been acting like a bitch. I don't want to get close to people just so they can be taken away from me."
Helena moved her hand across Myka's back in comforting circles, and Myka closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. "You're not the only one who's lost someone you love, you know." Myka opened her eyes and listened to Helena speak. "Back in England, my job was just like ours now. I was in a team of four. We were trying to take back London, and… I was the only survivor." Helena sighed. "Jessica and William, and my brother, Charles. He saved me." Myka saw a faint smile appear on Helena's face at the thought of her brother, but it began to vanish just as quickly as it had come.
"I just wish I could have done the same…before." Helena fingers fumbled to grasp the locket that was around her neck and held it tight. Myka didn't think she was talking about her brother anymore. She considered asking about the locket, but the expression on Helena's face somehow told her that this was a story for another time.
"Hey," Myka whispered, softly bumping her shoulder against Helena's. "Thank you."
"For what, darling?" Helena asked, dropping the locket and looking to her companion once again.
"For listening, and for talking." Myka heisted. "For understanding."
"Well, I believe everyone has their own scars from this war," Helena said. "We can't begin to understand each other's stories unless we share." Myka smiled softly at Helena, who began gazing at the sky again.
"I'm sorry," Myka whispered breathlessly.
Helena looked down, her expression one of mock surprise. "An apology from Myka Bering? The world must be ending today!"
Myka giggled. "Sweetheart, the world's already ended. We're just part of the unlucky few who survived." The smiles fell from both their faces with the reality of those words. Myka sighed and stood up. "Come on," she said, and held out her hand. "Let's try to get some sleep."
Helena looked up at Myka for a moment, before taking her hand, and following Myka's gentle tug, letting herself be led back into the house. Myka crawled into her sleeping bag and beckoned for Helena to move hers closer, who happily obliged. Myka shut her eyes, urging sleep to come and take her.
"You can trust me, you know." Myka opened her eyes and turned to listen to Helena, who was already facing her. "I don't plan on going anywhere."
Myka smiled. "The thing is we don't really plan on it," she said. "It just sort of happens."
"Well I'll make sure it doesn't happen."
Myka opened her mouth to reply, and tell HG that life was too unpredictable and she couldn't promise something like that, but the look on Helena's face made her close her mouth. The smirk was gone, and she looked entirely sincere. Myka believed her, and for the first time in a long time, she felt safe, and the thought scared her.
"Goodnight Helena," she whispered, then turned to her other side and closed her eyes again.
"Sweet dreams," was Helena's soft reply. And for once, they were.