Well, with FFN up and running again, I am finally posting!
A big shout out to Duvetsnuggler for her amazingly LONG reviews ;-) I added a whole page to this chapter 'cause she made me rethink and now I need a drink. Everyone else who is still reading, and especially those of you who share your thoughts with me, I hope this was worth the wait! Chapter 18 should be up very soon. So you know though, I plan on putting the entirety of this series on AO3, just in case FFN has another tantrum.
Here goes...
Chapter Seventeen
The new day brought with it what Helena would think of, later that week, as a false sense of hope.
Mummy was a word that still rung, clear as a bell, from her memory of the previous evening and though in a way it terrified her, being already enamoured with the girl who'd uttered it, she woke with a smile, content to lie and watch Christina sleep a little longer.
Knowing that the doctor would be returning to see to his patient this morning, HG eventually had to move and found that doing so, while having had your limbs and torso captured by an eight-year-old, was a delicate task. As it was, Christina stirred the moment the inventor managed to free herself of the covers and woke with a whine of protest. She watched as the child rolled out after her and followed her round the room with only one eye open.
"Darling, if you are still tired, you may sleep a little longer," she tried, even knowing that it was futile.
"I want to see Mama," Christina insisted, her hand clutching to the inventor as if the adult might decide to make a run for it.
Taking pity on her, Helena crouched at the child's level and pushed a lock of unruly hair behind her ear. "Allow me to dress and then we will visit your mother. I neglected to bring any clothes with me from your room but you will be alright dressing in there provided the doctor has not yet arrived." She waited until dark eyes found her own. "Does that suit you?"
Christina nodded and waited as she wandered around the room and began inspecting everything. HG readied herself for the day as quickly as she could, leaving her sleep-shirt crumpled on the pillow and dragging a brush through her hair, still pulling it up as she ushered the child from the room, biting her lip so as not to scold another repeated utterance of 'what does this do?'
They found Eleanor by Myka's bed and discovered that, though she was once again asleep, the worst of the fever had broken. The future agent had woken on and off, asking after her daughter whenever she became aware of where she was. It still wasn't clear exactly what was making the woman ill but both Wells women agreed that the cause was likely linked to a curiosity.
"Why are you summoning the doctor again if we know that this illness is not natural?" HG questioned.
"Appearances, dear. I apologise for the necessity. Had I not been so hasty in my initial response... Well, it is done now. I know you tire of the need to pander to the masses but never underestimate the power of the mob," Mrs Wells advised quietly from the doorway as she took her leave. "To most eyes, we have a seriously ill woman in our house; we would be remiss not to consult a medical professional."
"I see your point," Helena grumbled reluctantly.
"It would be best if Christina were elsewhere while others are present. Doctor Gravestock will expect us to adhere to quarantine." Eleanor warned, looking with a sombre expression at the girl.
"I will speak with her." Helena assured the older woman. "She grows weary of being ordered about."
Eleanor's gaze fell on her granddaughter for a long moment, prompting the inventor to meet it. "She will heed you I think."
"The way I heed my mother?" HG asked with a knowing smirk.
It didn't surprise the regent that her granddaughter had figured out her part in the girl's life but she was pleased to see that Helena was taking the revelation so well. "You will do better than Genevieve. Your mother loves you, Helena. Of that I have no doubt. Only, she does not appreciate the need to show it, or rather, a child's need to see it. She also forgets that we do not all follow the same philosophies in life and that children must be allowed to go their own way sometimes."
The inventor sat with Christina on her lap as they watched over Myka. When the doctor arrived, they went down to breakfast to stay out of his way, but Helena caught enough of his parting conversation with her grandfather to be concerned. When they were both replete, she instructed the eight-year-old to wait for her in the nursery and hastened to her grandfather's study.
"There will be more of them?" She blurted by way of a greeting.
"Good morning to you too, flower," Rupert said sardonically, looking up from his letter writing to find his youngest grandchild darkening the doorway with hands on hips. "Apparently, our convalescent guest is something of a curiosity herself as the doctor is still unsure of his diagnosis."
"He is a charlatan; a quack," HG protested, finally entering the room and closing the door behind her.
"Doctor Gravestock has treated our family for three decades with fair competence. Medicine it seems is forever evolving." Ever patient, even more so than his wife, Rupert gestured to the chair facing his desk and waited until his granddaughter decided to sit down. "As for Miss Bering's condition, he is perhaps showing his age at last. I have heard everything from cholera, ague and septicaemia to female hysteria."
"Female hysteria!?" Helena cried, incensed. "I'll give him bloody female hysteria. You are aware of the recommended treatment for such conditions, are you not? Not one of those... Doctors, is to be allowed to see Myka without supervision!"
Far from being offended by her outburst, Mr Wells chuckled. "My dear, I do believe Miss Bering brings out the protector in you."
Helena coloured but didn't withdraw her statement. Her tone softened however. "I do not wish for anyone to pour over her as if she were a lab rat. Is there nothing more we can do? Have you heard anything from the Warehouse?" Her words came out as if she asked the question often but they still stung as she remembered how much her grandparents had kept from her.
"It is a peculiar situation. You asked me last night about the rings I had made for your grandmother," he began slowly. "Well, as I said, they were fashioned after the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. The two smaller stones reaching for one another around the centre; hearts ever meeting through obstruction." He sketched on a piece of writing paper, the amethysts on either side visible through the clear central stone. "The couple, as you know, were said to have loved one another so deeply that their devotion transcended beyond this world into the next." He smiled coyly. "The sentiment, I though, was apt for the way I felt about your grandmother."
"You could not have found a less tragic tale for inspiration?" The inventor lamented, thinking of how her grandfather's show of romanticism might be the catalyst for the illness Myka now suffered but knowing that she couldn't blame him.
"Helena, I was a young man trying to impress a young woman. I wanted her to know that this life would be empty for me without her in it." He almost shrugged but held his upright posture by habit. "The sentiment rings true, even after all this time." Rupert continued as he pictured his wife of many years. Thinking of Helena's comment, he tilted his head to one side, his hands coming to rest together on the desk. "Besides, how many tales of love do you know that do not embody an element of tragedy? To love is to open your heart to the possibility of pain, but a moment with her was worth the risk. I am blessed to have lived for so long with the one I love."
HG nodded, a small smile breaching her concern for her love. "But you know of no reason why they might have become artefacts?"
"None," he admitted regretfully. "But then I have never been fortunate enough to witness the birth of an artefact. I am led to believe that great events or extremes of emotion are the key, but there is still so much we do not know or understand about the world of endless wonder."
Upon leaving her grandfather's study, Helena knew that it wouldn't be long before the doctor returned with his friends in tow. She had heard that Myka was awake and cognizant of her surroundings and wanted Christina to have the chance to see her mother while she was feeling better.
Retrieving the girl, they entered the guest room with identical expressions of hope and were not disappointed. Myka was propped up in bed, a half dozen pillows behind her by the looks of things. She had a serious, though weary shadow in her eyes as she conversed with Eleanor, but the moment Christina jumped on the bed and crawled up next to her, her face lit up.
"Mama!" Forgetting all propriety and cautions of catching fever herself, the girl dived into her mother's arms and there looked as if she would stay. "I thought you were never going to wake up," she confessed, half in sorrow, half in accusation.
"I'm sorry I scared you, Sweetheart." Myka held the girl close, burying her face in dark curls to hide the tears that sprang to her eyes.
She thought of her conversation with the regent and the newly discovered pieces of this puzzle that they had begun to place. With that final one still missing, the fear that she might not survive to return home danced through her mind, no matter how much Eleanor tried to reassure her. She blinked rapidly and then spotted the figure who stood almost awkwardly at the foot of her bed. The utter adorableness of the woman she loved was too much and a small chuckle escaped her at the sight.
HG caught the amusement directed at her and scowled, which seemed to do nothing except spur the American on. Deciding that she rather enjoyed the sound of Myka's mirth, she stuck out her tongue and was rewarded with a hoped-for belly-laugh, this time accompanied by Christina's mellifluous giggle.
Seeing that her presence was no longer needed, Eleanor informed the room that she would return when the doctors did and left the three alone, smiling to herself as she appreciated the small family that surrounded her dearest grandchild.
Helena took the abandoned chair by the head of the bed and Myka continued to watch her. "I'm glad we're not worried about me being contagious," she began, hoping to draw the inventor out of her uncharacteristically quiet mood.
HG paused; she didn't want to overly worry the eight-year-old who, despite her look of distraction, was likely hanging on their every word. "Caturanga confirmed our early suspicions." She shot the brunette a look that said 'I'm in the know now', which was returned with one full of regret and apology. "It is just a question now of locating the source."
"Hmm," Myka swallowed hard, knowing that her own conclusions on the subject were going to be difficult for Helena to accept. Hearing the Warehouse caretaker's name confirmed what Eleanor had already told her, that her granddaughter was aware of a great deal more than they'd originally intended. They could deal with that when young ears were not present though. There would be no avoiding it now but she decided to tread around the subject a little longer. "Eleanor told me about my unintentional confession. She may have also mentioned that you had some strong words to say to her."
"She had a few firm words designed to put me in my place also. It was quite a revelation, to suddenly discover that the secret and elite organisation I work for is known to most of my closest and dearest. I dare say that I have not borne the news quite so rationally as I should have," Helena dropped her gaze, feeling slightly ashamed of her immediate anger, knowing that Myka had heard all about it.
"Don't be ashamed of who you are, Helena," the brunette assured her, reaching over to take her hand. "Your fire is one of the things that I love about you and you have a right to feel angry with us."
Helena nodded thoughtfully, smiled and cleared her throat. "No uh... regrets regarding the events of two nights passed then?"
"None," Myka declared, her answer coming from the heart. Pausing, she considered the question a little longer. "I'm tired of keeping things from you. Regretting the things I can't change won't help us now. I confess that I did panic a bit when I got back." She averted her gaze and turned the ring on her finger, holding it up after a quiet moment. "Thank you by the way, for this. I could feel it doing something to me and I threw it away without thinking."
Rather than feeling pleased by the gratitude in green eyes, HG looked stricken by the news. "Darling, has it occurred to you that this may be the very thing we are looking for?"
Slowly, the American nodded. "Your grandmother and I were discussing it moments before you entered. We believe it is both the cause and the cure." She smiled sadly. "Something about love being both a gift and a curse."
The inventor released the future agents hand and dropped her head, running her fingers roughly through her increasingly unkempt hair. She hated this. This feeling of forever being one step behind. She always had answers and solutions but lately she was forced to contend with knowledge of events that had yet to occur. It was rare that she was left to flounder like this. "So, removing it is not an option?"
Checking on Christina and finding her half-asleep, the brunette lowered her voice to a melodic murmur. "When I accepted you proposal, Helena, I was making a promise to join with you... for life."
"Lord." Helena's gaze flitted from the bed, to the window, to the door and back again, searching for an anchor for this feeling of helplessness. "Myka, are you telling me that you will die if it is removed?" I am to blame for this, she thought to herself, horrified at the very notion of her romantic gesture sentencing her wife-to-be to death.
"Helena..." Myka reached out as far as possible to offer what little comfort she could. "Honey, I'm telling you that you saved my life by returning it to me. I have no qualms about being stuck with you for life," she teased in an attempt to cut through the tension. "It just means that I will have to be extra careful about never taking it off."
Helena sat for a while, looking down at the slender fingers she had recaptured with her own. Gradually, she began to feel her love's logic seeping through and her own inner turmoil settling. "Tell me more about this hypothesis; this gift and curse."
"Your grandfather told you the story of their origin? The inspiration for their design?" Myka asked softly. There was an element of fascination in being an integral part of the life of an artefact and she smiled at Helena's slow nod. "I understand how he felt; I would follow you anywhere. You are a gift to me."
Dark eyes locked onto green and, feeling the static in the air, HG leant forward and brought her lips to Myka's, finding them chapped from hours of restless, fever-induced sleep, but warm and oh so willing.
The young Victorian writer lost herself in the embrace, dreaming in those blissful moments that reality would leave them be, that she would open her eyes and find her love restored to full health. She was too knowledgeable about the effects of artefacts to truly believe that the worst was over with. The sadness behind Myka's eyes told her more about the future agent's thoughts than words could.
Reluctantly, Helena drew away and, not able to meet the brunette's gaze again whispered, "Am I also your curse?"
"We invited pain into our lives when we opened our hearts to one another." She unconsciously echoed Rupert's words. "But Helena," Myka tucked the fingers of her left hand beneath a trembling jaw and guided mahogany eyes to her own. "We have each other to lean on when that pain overwhelms us. While I hate the idea of hurting you even a little bit, I know you could no more leave me than I could leave you."
"I will find a way to fight this," HG choked, her voice muffled by the tightening of her throat.
Myka reached to the back of the inventor's neck and pulled her closer, their foreheads coming to rest together as another tear slipped down her cheek. "I know you will. Dear heart, I believe in you."
While clinging to Myka, wishing that she had by some miracle a moment of brilliance that could end this nightmare, HG found her strength and resolve slowly returning to her. Her love was right, they might share the pain but they also shared their fortitude and together they would fight.
She sat up, brushed a fresh wave of tears from Myka's face and reached for a handkerchief to dry her own. In gentle whispers, they began to talk, to share, to smile and eventually, laugh.
Christina woke from her nap to hear her parents chuckling over some amusing anecdote and quickly revived, scrambling over the American to sit between the two women so she could share all of her favourite parts of the future with her fellow Brit, baffling the older Victorian with tales of Uncle Pete: The Bottomless Monster.
Polly came to interrupt the moment the doctors returned and the two mothers shared a look before Helena and Christina wished Myka a temporary farewell and disappeared from the room.
Having been assured by her grandfather that nothing untoward would happen to Myka, Helena consented to leave the doctors be while her grandparents remained with the American. Even so, her curiosity was too great for her to leave the matter entirely and, more than once, she stalked the corridor for a short time, smiling to herself as she caught Myka's beautifully ferocious voice telling the professionals just what they could do with their experimental 'cures'. When they were done, she stealthily followed them downstairs.
"Mr Wells, I am of course gratified to see Mrs Bering looking healthier but she is still not one hundred percent and she must see that we are merely trying to speed her recovery."
Helena stood in the parlour, just out of sight as she listened to what she hoped was the last of her grandfather's farewells with Doctor Gravestock and his colleagues.
"As my guest has regained control over her faculties gentlemen, I can hardly force her to consent to care that she may not even need."
"Mr Wells, we really must protest. Not understanding the nature of her malady, we cannot guarantee the safety of your household."
"Gentlemen, I assure you that we will continue to take every precaution. I will contact you immediately should she take a turn for the worse, but until that time, I believe we will manage well without your kind services."
HG breathed a sigh of relief as the voices finally faded away and left her hiding place to join her grandfather in the vestibule. Her raised eyebrow was all he needed to know her mind.
"They will not be returning unless called for, which I assure you, I will not be doing." He took her arm as they wandered towards his study. "She has quite the sharp tongue on her when raised to the occasion," he commented with a side-on glance at her expression.
Helena flushed with pride, knowing from their few conversations that Myka had a sharp mind to go with that tongue and knew how to make her point without needing to appear rude. "How is she faring?"
"I think she exhausted herself with the effort she put into maintaining a calm facade. She may already be asleep again," he informed her as she parted with him on the first floor.
"I am overdue some personal maintenance," HG confessed, picking at a lank lock of hair. "I think I will take this opportunity to freshen up." She kissed her grandfather on the cheek and thanked him for his help in dealing with the doctors and then wandered back to her room, informing a maid on the way that she would like to take a bath.
She made quick work of getting clean and it was only as she had finished drying that she realised that Christina was probably due for a bath too. She made a mental note to see that the girl had one before bed.
It was mid afternoon when Myka woke to full consciousness a second time. Christina picked out one of her favourite books from the schoolroom and curled up with the invalid again while HG consented to read to the two of them.
"Dickens huh?" Myka commented as she gazed down at her daughter with a tired grin. Her eyes were slightly sunken from the lack of rest she had had with her sleep and her skin was pale and clammy but with the eight year old there, she had energy enough to joke around a little. "You wouldn't be trying to tease someone now, would you?"
Christina grinned and Helena lowered Oliver to her lap, a mock scowl forming. "Oh-ho! I see how it will be. Am I to be ganged upon often in my own home?" She took the teasing in good form, allowing the girl much leeway until they were called down for dinner.
Helena hardly knew what she was eating these days. She only knew that her thoughts stayed in a particular room upstairs or else focussed long enough to listen to Christina when the girl felt talkative. More often than not, the two of them ate quickly so that they could leave the table and return to Myka.
Long after Christina was tucked up in bed, HG sat with the American, holding her hand and stroking cool skin. Where Myka's body would overheat, her extremities had begun to grow cold.
Knowing that they couldn't avoid approaching the topic any longer, she began to speak calmly about their situation. "I hear that you will have a long journey ahead of you, once we discover how to cure this malady." At Myka's confused look, she elaborated, "The future?"
Green eyes held all the guilt they had been suppressing and then welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Helena. I know you wanted answers but I..."
"Shh, darling." Gentle hands reached out to comfort.
Myka held on tightly even as she continued to spill apologies. "I wanted to tell you."
"I know. It's alright." Helena ran her hand along an arm, hoping that the prone woman would find it soothing. "I want to make the most of the time I have left with you here, and that certainly does not include upsetting you. Therefore, to put your mind at ease, I assumed and have been told in no uncertain terms that I should not expect to keep my memories of your time here. Once you are well, you and Christina will go back to the future."
"I will have to remember to tell Pete you said that." The brunette snorted a muffled laugh through her tears and at Helena's confused expression she said, "Sorry. 'Back to the future' is the title of a popular movie about time travel."
"Movie?" Helena asked, still perplexed.
Myka wracked her brain. "Like a nickelodeon or a zoetrope?"
"A daedalum?" The Victorian wondered, beginning to understand.
"Yes," the American agreed. "But the images are digitally burned into a disk and then fed electronically to a screen so you can view it."
"Fascinating," the inventor's eyes lit up as she imagined it. "And do we have one of these screens in our home?"
"A television," Myka named it. As HG wouldn't remember this conversation and she was already aware of the most crucial aspects, she didn't see any harm in indulging some of her curiosities. "Yes, we have one." Looking up into those inquisitive eyes, she felt a pull in her chest. "I've missed you, Helena. I hate to think what you must be going through at home. Giving up your memories means you probably won't know what's happening to me or Christina."
"Love, all will be fine. I understand now," Helena tried once again to calm the future agent.
"No," Myka choked, knowing the hardships her fiancée had faced. "You really don't." She thought back to all the times she'd caught Helena crying for her lost daughter, the bone-weary pain she'd carried and the eventual anger that had come pouring through the madness in those final hours before the incident at Yellowstone. Tears leaked into her pillow and all she became aware of for a long time was the feel of the bed dipping, her love's kisses in her hair and arms holding her close, trying desperately to comfort her.
"Darling, I am aware that knowledge can be a terrible burden sometimes," HG began softly, having slid onto the bed so she could hold Myka properly. She noted that the brunette's body was still overly warm and rearranged the covers slightly rather than relinquish her hold. "I gather that you are keeping some terrible tragic event in my future secret?" She felt a small nod against her shoulder and continued. "However, despite that tragedy, we still arrive at a place where we live together, are promised to one another and have a growing family?" Another nod, a little firmer this time. "Then all will be fine," she repeated, moving back marginally so she could rest her head beside Myka's. "I hope I will not often be the cause of your tears," she lamented.
Feeling somewhat more collected in her thoughts after another good cry and particularly after Helena's wise words, Myka summoned what remained of her energy to kiss the inventor gently. "You were in a tough place for a long time, Helena, but you have brought much more joy to my life than sadness. You are my light in the dark."
After a while, tentative conversation meandered back to earlier, to their unfinished discussion regarding Myka's mystery illness. They talked in circles and Myka eventually filled the inventor in on Future Christina's involvement. Helena speculated on the need to travel to this time and place as the American thought back to the night she had thrown her ring off in a panicked daze.
"Having already spent several hours without it on..." She thought aloud, repeating things she had theorised with Eleanor. "Somehow, I think too much damage has already been done."
"The illness cannot reverse itself?" HG finished, coming to the same grim conclusion. "Do you believe the cure may be in the future, that you will not recover until you return?"
"Caturanga and your grandmother are fairly certain that the artefact will be usable once I'm better. They believe that this illness is the sign we've been waiting for, but I can't for the life of me figure out why. What have I achieved by lying here?" Myka sighed with frustration, her fatigue beginning to catch up with her again.
Words soon became yawns and Helena kept her vigil as the woman in her arms drifted in and out of sleep, through the night, her body alternately growing hot and cold, and then occasionally mumbling something that made little sense to the inventor.
And so the evening passed, the night offering little reprieve from worries or illness. Days gradually became a week with the inventor's efforts at home and the Warehouse offering nothing but increasing frustration. She wouldn't tell anyone else, but in her desperation, she had begun to search amongst the shelves of artefacts for something that would cure Myka, even if that meant sacrificing her own health.
Each night, HG found herself leading a protesting child to bed, sitting with her, listening with a weary half-smile to her dwindling complaints as she slowly drifted off to sleep. The fondness she had felt for the eight-year-old from the beginning grew by the hour and Christina's increasing sullenness added to her motivation.
She had saved so many lives during her time as an agent that she despaired at the lack of success she had with helping her own family. She would not wait much longer before attempting something drastic. One more day, she decided, knowing that Myka didn't have much longer. It is not too much to ask that the Warehouse give something back.
Roused by the opening of the door, gaunt, tired green eyes lit up at the sight of the figure that entered. "Helena," Myka's weak voice drifted up from the bed where she had been dozing lightly. "I'm glad you're here."
HG carefully hid the horror she felt at the deathly-pale appearance of the woman she loved. The intensity of her feelings only strengthened her resolve. Tomorrow, she was going to end this. "There is nowhere I would rather be, darling."
"Christina?"
"Asleep. Finally, after a great deal more protest than was necessary."
As had become routine over the past few days, Helena crawled under the covers and wrapped her arms around the weakening body beside her.
They had been keeping a close eye on her vitals, noting that all of the expectant mother's energy appeared to be directed toward her precious cargo. Eleanor continued to insist that the brunette would fare better in the long run than the twins and tried not to show the increasing doubt she harboured, but HG knew her grandmother too well; if Norie was growing concerned, then the situation had become dire.
She talked while Myka listened and drifted in and out of sleep. She described the changes she'd made to her short drafts regarding time travel and a scientist who builds a machine to transport him to the future. That topic always brought a smile to dry lips.
Helena never wanted to leave her partner's side but couldn't ignore the child in her own bed. Each night she had stayed with Myka until she couldn't possibly stay awake any longer and left to join their daughter. Knowing her plans for the following day though, she had difficulty closing her eyes and so remained in the guest room, savouring what could be her last night.
Sometime around 1am, HG felt a sudden change in Myka's body and jolted out of her restless half-sleep. It began with a spike in her temperature and what had been a small rise and fall, prompting HG to occasionally rearrange the quilt, became something of an inferno in comparison. As the inventor struggled to sit up, her companion trembled and whimpered, sweat returning to cover her face and neck.
In the few seconds that passed, Helena had the covers whipped off, no thought for privacy as she panicked, searching for anything to help.
"Myka?" She lifted the American's left hand and held it to her chest. There was no response to her verbal plea but she felt long fingers squeeze her own and keep hold of them. "Darling, hold on, please."
The hand in hers trembled along with the body it was attached to. Helena considered calling for aid; perhaps the compresses would help again, but the moment she moved to put the thought into action, Myka's grip tightened and wouldn't release her. HG felt her resolve break and tears breach the damn she had attempted to keep in place.
Please, she thought desperately, her one free hand stroking over the back of Myka's, inwardly kicking herself for not having acted sooner. Give me her burden. Any pain I will bear for her... Please.
Through her tear-blurred gaze, HG witnessed a pulsating light grow from their joined hands. Unable to break away, she knelt, open-mouthed to watch as it engulfed the woman in the bed and then travelled along her own arm, surrounding, penetrating, filling her. She felt her own temperature spike and her muscles begin to shake uncontrollably.
Dark eyes widened in surprise as Helena realised that the sensation she had mistakenly assumed to be pain was not foreign to her. The insidious, addictive pull; the low throbbing; the tensing and tingling in and around her skin; it left her powerless as she half-collapsed over Myka and fisted the sheets with her free hand. Words failed her as she was overcome by arousal and desire. Breathing heavily, she sank into a pillow and groaned her pleasure as her companion arched beside her, their bodies trembling in tandem to a shared release.
She collapsed breathlessly mere minutes after initially waking, her hand still trapped with Myka's as she slipped into a dream-like state.
;-)