I've set a precedent with three chapter updates so here are the next three!
I've just started watching season 4 again which has made me rethink so many parts of this story. I almost want to rewrite the whole thing, but I'll just end up agonising over it forever and who has time for that!? It's all a learning curve.
Chapter Ten
After hours of scanning and poking the brick that had come alive in their presence, the three Warehouse agents were forced to return to the hotel. HG and Pete were both feeling defeated, though neither one would admit it and Steve couldn't help feeling like a spare wheel. He hadn't had much insight into removing the artefact and his talent was wasted in literally talking to a wall. When he did detect lies around him, it was from either of his colleagues.
Agent Wells retreated to her room with the excuse of needing to freshen up, which left the guys alone. Pete decided to call Artie again while the Victorian inventor was otherwise occupied, to avoid any more heated arguments.
"Pete," Artie greeted gruffly. "What have you found out?"
Pete puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "We're sure we know where the artefact is, but we can't get to it without drilling out part of the wall and we don't know what it'll do to Myka."
Artie nodded but didn't appear overly perturbed by the news. "And Ms. Wells? What has she been up to?"
Agent Lattimer sighed again, this time in annoyance. "She's doing everything she can to help Artie-man."
"The visions?" The director pushed on.
"She did have another one," Pete admitted. "'Bout the same length as the first and the brick glowed again, but we had no more luck finding out what it was or how to get to it."
Artie nodded again as if he wasn't surprised or concerned but merely thinking through a plan. "Where is she now?"
"In her room," Pete frowned, not liking the twitching vibe he was getting.
"Alone?"
"Yes Artie, alone." Agent Lattimer's tone hinted at his shortening patience. "We're all wiped out; I think we can allow her the chance to shower, eat and sleep. Don't you?"
Artie leaned into the Farnsworth, his image becoming intensely large in Pete's view-screen. "Listen Pete. Every documented account of this artefact includes visions or memories and shortly after, the victim vanishes. Now, her being affected affords us an opportunity to see the artefact in action and may be the key to discovering how to get Myka back." He paused to check that Pete was keeping up before ploughing on. "Do not let her out of your sight. I want a twenty-four hour vigil on that woman and if she takes off, follow her but do not engage! Are we clear?"
Pete looked up at his temporary partner and gestured to the door. Steve had heard the entire conversation and although he wasn't thrilled with Artie's attitude, he understood the logic in the director's plan. He stood by the peephole so he could keep watch while hearing the rest of their instructions, if there were any.
"Ok Artie. Jinksy is starting the first watch now. What do you want us to do if she zombie-walks all the way there? How do we stop her being taken?"
Artie stared at Agent Lattimer longer than was comfortable for Pete before he simply said, "You don't."
HG knew she was in trouble the moment she felt her mind beginning to slip again. Despite knowing what was coming, she had no control over what her body did next.
The few hours that followed would later remind her of her rebellious teenage years when opium had been all the rage with her spoilt university acquaintances. She felt like a stranger in her own body; sentenced to watch the world pass by while being stuck in a bittersweet dream.
With each passing moment, the image of Myka and Christina laughing and conversing with one another drove her desperate with want until she could no longer resist the temptation to let go of reality and plunge head-first into oblivion.
Her only remaining thought was that she be allowed to finally be at peace with her life, regardless of whether it was real or not.
Close by, as he watched HG Wells being swallowed up like an entrée, Pete cursed himself for blindly following Artie's orders.
News of a new arrival in Limbo reached Myka through Jacques. The 'expiration' of one of their number had given them the heads up and Stan had sent runners out to search. The agent wasn't sure what good there was in 'waking' the dreamers, but she couldn't fault the good intentions of her new friends.
As May led her to the new arrival, Myka prepared herself to take in as much detail as possible; she had to find a way out and seeing these affected people for herself might provide some insight.
Her mind drifted to the image of Christina Wells and the girl's insistence that she must wait for her mother. What force could have brought her to this place when Helena had buried her more than a century ago and was this why Christina appeared to be completely unaware of time passing?
As Pete would say, Myka's spidey-senses were tingling; this mystery might not have begun with the young Victorian – in fact, the agent was sure that any connected artefact was much older – but she knew, somehow, that HG's daughter was the key to their escape.
May chatted at length about the delicate operation that was 'greeting a new arrival'. Myka listened with half an ear while she tried to place the increasing tightness in her stomach.
"You need to be delicate in your approach; some folk lash out when they first come to their senses. You must prepare to be disappointed too," Myka nodded her understanding and the older woman continued. "You can't blame yourself if this person continues to sink into their own mind. It's not easy to let people go, but sometimes there's no other option."
May's voice faded into oblivion behind the sudden roar of blood pounding in Myka's ears. They had turned a corner into the exact same side street that the agent had materialised in who knows how many hours before. There, at the far side of the dead end, standing half-turned away from them, was a figure that Myka would know anywhere.
Agent Bering gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. She expected the raven-haired beauty to turn and pin her with those intense dark eyes that she'd missed so much, but though they stood there for over a minute, Helena remained immobile.
With this unexpected development, Myka's puzzle solving brain received a sharp kick and began moving the pieces around again. It couldn't simply be coincidence that she, Christina and now Helena had been lured into this place. Was life so cruel that it would trap them in 'amber', forever together and eternally apart, or was fate attempting to give them a chance to fight for a life? Was it even possible for all three of them to escape?
A gentle hand on her arm broke the agent out of her stupor and with a grateful glance at her companion; Myka slowly began to close the distance between herself and the Victorian.
"Helena?" Myka called softly.
"So you do know her," May interjected, having wondered whether the young brunette had not simply lost her nerve. "Dearie, do you think it would perhaps be better for someone impartial to try and bring her round? In my experience, most respond better to a calm and patient approach. It's not easy to do that when you're emotionally involved."
The curly-haired brunette bristled slightly at the suggestion but to be fair to the more experienced woman, she gave it some thought. "I honestly think she'll respond better to someone she knows. When her mind's set on something, she's as stubborn as a mule," Myka smiled sadly, picturing again Helena's glassy-eyed gaze as Pete drove them away from Boone. "I'll try to keep in mind what you've said though."
May conceded and gave a small gesture to wave the brunette on. Agent Bering took a slow, deep breath before moving cautiously into the inventor's line of sight.
"Helena?" She tried again, inching closer.
Myka took a moment to study her estranged friend. Helena's hair was the same glossy black and a little wild, likely from having run her fingers through it many times. The agent felt her own digits tingle at the memory of what those silky locks felt like. The Victorian's eyes were completely devoid of life however, sending a chill of horror through the agent. There had always been a hint of darkness and lingering pain in those eyes but they had been full of life and determination, not like now.
Standing directly in front of the unmoving figure now, Myka gently placed a hand on each of the inventor's arms and tried to keep the tone of her voice calm. "Helena... Can you hear me? It's Myka, remember? Do you recognise my voice?"
She waited a beat, feeling panic welling up from deep inside when there was no response. Helena continued to do nothing. The urge to shake the shorter woman was suddenly sharp in the back of her mind.
Helena was beginning to panic. She could feel the effects of her fantasy pulling at her from all directions but could hear another voice begging her to take back control. The conflict was dragging her apart and yet she just couldn't let go of her little girl again.
A frail hand came to rest on Myka's shoulder, reminding her that she wasn't alone. "Easy dear. Take your time. Try just talking; don't focus so much on making her respond."
Myka nodded and tried to swallow the bile in her throat. She let her arms fall gradually until she was holding the Victorian's small but strong hands in her own. She thrust her mind back in time, trying to dig up something to talk about.
"I remember the day we met... You wouldn't believe how excited I was to be chasing down the great HG Wells. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him and I was carting around my first edition of 'The Time Machine' just in case there was a chance to have it signed." Myka found herself becoming engrossed in the memory, a smile forming on her lips at her own fanatic behaviour. "When Artie told me we were looking for a woman it took me almost a minute to compose myself before running to warn Pete... Then I saw you..." She let her gaze drift up to fix on HG's face. "I'm not entirely sure what I felt in that moment, but ever since then I just haven't felt whole without you around." She released one of Helena's hands and tucked a raven lock behind the inventor's ear. "Sometimes I miss you so much it hurts." Agent Bering's voice cracked slightly at the end and she had to blink several times to clear the moisture from her eyes.
HG watched as Myka's features exploded briefly in amusement and drank in the pride and instant captivation on her daughter's face. 'Seems like the Wells women are willing captives of yours Myka,' she thought smugly. She was desperate to close the distance and embrace the pair but part of her conscience was still intent on that voice and deep down she knew that what she was seeing was no more than a beautiful fiction.
"You know, we never did talk about the days leading up to Warehouse Two," Myka's voice cracked as she began to monologue questions long repressed. "How could you lie with me most nights and still pursue your plan each morning? Did you feel any doubt or remorse? Those students, Valda, Kelly and Pete... Me?" She felt a tear slip silently down her cheek and sniffed as she wiped it away. "Did you ever once think to confide in me what you were feeling? I would have spent my every waking moment helping you to see beyond the darkness." She took a step back to absorb the whole scene again, searching for anything different.
May's expression was not encouraging; she appeared to have given up. "Now dear, you recall us warning you that not everyone can be saved. If your friend here was meant to 'wake-up' I would have expected a sign by now. Particularly considering everything you just confessed."
Myka frowned, both at the suggestion that Helena was a lost cause and at the realisation that her private musings had been overheard. She'd been so completely engrossed in the Victorian writer that she'd ignored her surroundings.
"I won't leave her," the curly-haired brunette declared with determination. "I don't need to eat or sleep; I can stay here until I 'expire'," she reminded her guide. She glanced back at her statuesque friend. "I can't let her waste away like this. Besides being a complete waste of a brilliant mind, I have a strong sense that we need her to help us escape."
May looked on in pity, obviously assuming that Myka was deluding herself. "What makes you think that dearie?"
The agent took a deep breath before she dropped her bomb. "She's Christina's mother."