Warehouse 13 Fic: This is goodbye: 7-8/?
Title: This is goodbye
Author: Carly Carter
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters: Myka centric fic.
Rating: PG ish, some language, violence, adultish themes
Disclaimer: Don't own anything!
Summary: Sets off in mid episode 10 "Regrets" then diverges from canon.
And then, the horrifying sound of the shot being fired.
The surprised and wounded cry from Pete Lattimer's lips.
The heavy dull thud as he crashes to the ground.
And blood, Pete's blood, spilling out over the cold prison floor.
Chapters 1 & 2 carlyisnot.livejournal.com/35399.html
Chapters 3 & 4 carlyisnot.livejournal.com/35770.html
Chapters 5 & 6 carlyisnot.livejournal.com/35984.html
>
Chapter 7
~~
Artie reluctantly returns to the hospital later that night. He knows that he doesn't have the answers that will satisfy Claudia or Pete. He doesn't quite know how to tell them that Myka isn't coming back. That Myka doesn't want to come back. That the reason Myka doesn't want to come back is his fault. Besides, it's not his responsibility to break that news to Pete or Claudia. If Myka wants out she can tell them so herself. And so, not uncharacteristically, he is deliberately vague and succinct in his account of his meeting with Myka.
“Did you find Myka?” Pete asks the minute Artie has reappeared in the hospital room.
“Yes, yes Pete, I did.” Artie answers. He gives little else away.
“And?” Pete and Claudia ask in unison.
“She's fine. I told you, don't worry about Myka.” Artie assures them.
“Where is she?” Pete wants to know. What he really wants to know is-- Why isn't she here? Why did she take off leaving me in the hospital without so much as a word. But he can't quite bring himself to say that aloud.
“She just needs some time.” Artie tells them both vaguely.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Claudia asks. At the same time Pete demands to know “Time for what? How much time?”
“Enough.” Artie stops the barrage of questions. He points to Claudia and puts on his best no-nonsense tone. “You - get yourself back to the warehouse first thing in the morning, there is inventory to do and you're days behind. And you-Pete, just lie there and recuperate. And hurry it up. I can't have you out of action like this for long. Leave everything else to me. Understood?”
Artie does not wait for Pete or Claudia to acknowledge their understanding before he makes his hasty exit.
~~
Pete isn't satisfied in the least with Artie's answers. He needs to see Myka for himself. He makes a move to pull the IV from his arm, to get out of bed.
“What are you doing? You have to rest.” Claudia tells him
“I need to find Myka.” Pete insists.
“Someone better tell me what the hell is going on. You guys are all acting very weird.”
“I just need to know she is ok.” Pete answers. Suddenly he doesn't care if Claudia knows that he is worried about Myka, that he cares about her.
“Artie said she was. You don't believe him?”
“I just need to talk to her.”
“You can't leave the hospital. You're injured.”
“I'll be fine. Just give me a hand will you?” Pete asks.
“I'll go find Myka, I'll bring her here.” Claudia offers.
The thought pleases Pete. Because his head is already spinning from the pain killers, and he isn't sure he can even stand on his feet let alone find Myka or convince her to talk to him.
“Are you sure?” Pete asks.
“Trust me, I can do it, I'll go find Myka and bring her here, just wait here.”
“You don't even know where to start looking.”
“Trust me, I'll find her.” Claudia assures him.
And within a flash, the girl was gone.
Pete feels it instinctively that Myka is in trouble. That she needs him. He had seen that look in her eyes at the prison. He knows she still tortures herself over what happened to Sam. He wants more than anything to take that burden off her shoulders. And now that Pete looks back, even before they got to the prison, before those hallucinations started, Myka had been acting strangely. Pete doesn't think Artie realises how close to the edge Myka is. Artie hadn't been there, hadn't seen the conviction in her eyes as she held that gun to her own head. Pete felt he had been somehow protecting Myka to keep that part of the story to himself. That she wouldn't have wanted the others to know. But he wonders now if he ought to have told Artie. Myka had always built walls around her true feelings, built them up high to keep others out. And he had always been the only one who ever really saw a glimpse into the true Myka. It was up to him to reach her. But he was stranded helpless in this damn hospital bed. All he could do was wait and hope for Claudia to return.
~~
Mrs Frederic is far from pleased as Artie recounts the meeting with Myka.
“I'm afraid that is not an acceptable outcome, Arthur.” Mrs Frederic informs him.
“Myka doesn't want to be part of the warehouse anymore, I can't change that.” He protests.
“Change it you will.” Mrs Frederic insists.
“With all due respect, Mrs Frederic, I can't see the point...”
“I didn't ask for your opinion. Myka is needed at the warehouse. You will ensure she returns to her position immediately. Thank you Arthur.”
And that had been the end of that.
Chapter 8
Artie sighs wearily as he stares down at Myka's file. She and Pete were two of the best agents the warehouse had ever seen. And he didn't want to lose Myka, that much was true. But on the other hand it didn't sit right with him, forcing her back to the warehouse against her will. Myka had been right- she was risking her own life every day at the warehouse- they all were. Who was Artie to stop her leaving if that's what she wanted? The incident with the mirror had frightened him too. He thinks often of what would have happened if Claudia and Leena had not been there. If Myka had been trapped inside for eternity. It was one of many possible horrific outcomes that loomed over them all. Many agents had already lost their lives, many endured a fate worse than death. It was a stark reality. Myka was right to run as fast as she could. Who could blame her for wanting out?
So troubled is he that it is quite some time before Artie asks himself the question- just why is Mrs Frederic so adamant about Myka returning to the warehouse?
As Artie closes the file in front of him, a photograph slips out onto the floor. A photo of Myka's family. While Artie knew many things about Myka, about all the agents, about their families, he had never seen a picture of Myka's parents. And he takes a moment to examine it.
The man in the photo, Myka's father, disturbs him. The man's eyes are staring back at him. He is eerily familiar to Artie. Minutes later Artie convinces himself that the man appears familiar to him because of the resemblance to Myka. That's all.
It's only much later that night, while Myka is still playing on his mind preventing him from sleeping, that the man's face flashes before him again.
Abruptly he sits bolt upright in bed as he remembers just exactly where he has seen that man before.
~~
Myka is still sitting right there in that exact same spot hours after Artie has left her. Still nursing that same cup of coffee, now stone cold. She hasn't any intention of drinking it. She hasn't anywhere to go. She finds it unsettling- Having no where to belong, having no purpose in life. She is a part of nothing. She is no one.
She tries to make plans, with logic and reason and forward thinking. But all she sees in front of her is a brick wall. She is intelligent. Young. There are many opportunities in the world for someone such as her. But they lie too far out of her reach, obscured from view. Everything around her is oppressively dark. She feels like she is drowning. She feels like she doesn't really care much.
Fleetingly she had considered the option of visiting her parents. But she knows she can not face them right now. Things between them were strained enough at the best of times. She never felt worthy in their eyes. She never felt like she belonged. The last thing she needed was their criticism and condemnation. And yet, there was no where else to go.
She had never really longed for the security of a place to call home. But right now she feels so lost. She longs for something to ground her. She needs someone. And she can't help it that her thoughts turn to Pete. In the relatively short time they'd been partners, he had always been there for her. Always stood by her in a way she had never known anyone else to do. He was the one that kept her together, lifted her up.
She thinks back to the first days together. She had warned him then that she was hallucinating about Sam, she had warned him then that he couldn't count on her. But Pete wouldn't hear it. He was so assured of himself. He had so much faith in her, he quelled all her lingering restless fears. “Trust me” he had told her, and she had. But now Pete is gone, she let him down. And only now that Pete isn't around does she realise what a vital part of her existence Pete Lattimer had become.
She is startled out of her thoughts as a man approaches her table.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, smiling confidently.
“I don't think so.” She answers, sighing wearily. She isn't THAT desperate for company. For love.
Uninvited though he is, he sits opposite her.
“Don't you just wish you could tun back time? Undo all the mistakes. Make things right.” The man muses.
She decides he is intoxicated. And abruptly gets up to leave without acknowledging him any further. There was a time she would have told him to #$%^ off, a time she would have flashed her badge or her gun or both and put him in his place. She hasn't the energy tonight. She merely walks away. He makes no move to follow her as she does so. He doesn't have to. His words are enough to stop her in her tracks.
“Agent Bering.” He calls out after her. She stops, but she refuses to turn and face him. Refuses to ask him how he knew her name. If she turned now he would see in her eyes that he had caught her off guard. It would give him too much control, too much satisfaction, and instinctively she is aware that the man is bad news.
“I think you'll find we have a lot in common.” He continues.
“I doubt that.” She answers without turning to face him. She has started for the door again.
“I believe we could be a great help to one another.” He tells her.
At this suggestion, she turns to face him, feeling suddenly bold, feeling suddenly like she can at least make a pretence of boldness. His words intrigue her.
“There is nothing you can do to help me.” She tells him resolutely. She doesn't know or particularly care who he is or how he knows her name, but one thing she is certain about- he can not help her now. There is nothing anyone can do to fix up the mess she's made of her life.
“But, just imagine for a moment, if you could turn back time. If you could change that day in Denver...” His eerie voice trails off leaving the tantalising suggestion hanging between them.
Author: Carly Carter
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters: Myka centric fic.
Rating: PG ish, some language, violence, adultish themes
Disclaimer: Don't own anything!
Summary: Sets off in mid episode 10 "Regrets" then diverges from canon.
And then, the horrifying sound of the shot being fired.
The surprised and wounded cry from Pete Lattimer's lips.
The heavy dull thud as he crashes to the ground.
And blood, Pete's blood, spilling out over the cold prison floor.
Chapters 1 & 2 carlyisnot.livejournal.com/35399.html
Chapters 3 & 4 carlyisnot.livejournal.com/35770.html
Chapters 5 & 6 carlyisnot.livejournal.com/35984.html
>
Chapter 7
~~
Artie reluctantly returns to the hospital later that night. He knows that he doesn't have the answers that will satisfy Claudia or Pete. He doesn't quite know how to tell them that Myka isn't coming back. That Myka doesn't want to come back. That the reason Myka doesn't want to come back is his fault. Besides, it's not his responsibility to break that news to Pete or Claudia. If Myka wants out she can tell them so herself. And so, not uncharacteristically, he is deliberately vague and succinct in his account of his meeting with Myka.
“Did you find Myka?” Pete asks the minute Artie has reappeared in the hospital room.
“Yes, yes Pete, I did.” Artie answers. He gives little else away.
“And?” Pete and Claudia ask in unison.
“She's fine. I told you, don't worry about Myka.” Artie assures them.
“Where is she?” Pete wants to know. What he really wants to know is-- Why isn't she here? Why did she take off leaving me in the hospital without so much as a word. But he can't quite bring himself to say that aloud.
“She just needs some time.” Artie tells them both vaguely.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Claudia asks. At the same time Pete demands to know “Time for what? How much time?”
“Enough.” Artie stops the barrage of questions. He points to Claudia and puts on his best no-nonsense tone. “You - get yourself back to the warehouse first thing in the morning, there is inventory to do and you're days behind. And you-Pete, just lie there and recuperate. And hurry it up. I can't have you out of action like this for long. Leave everything else to me. Understood?”
Artie does not wait for Pete or Claudia to acknowledge their understanding before he makes his hasty exit.
~~
Pete isn't satisfied in the least with Artie's answers. He needs to see Myka for himself. He makes a move to pull the IV from his arm, to get out of bed.
“What are you doing? You have to rest.” Claudia tells him
“I need to find Myka.” Pete insists.
“Someone better tell me what the hell is going on. You guys are all acting very weird.”
“I just need to know she is ok.” Pete answers. Suddenly he doesn't care if Claudia knows that he is worried about Myka, that he cares about her.
“Artie said she was. You don't believe him?”
“I just need to talk to her.”
“You can't leave the hospital. You're injured.”
“I'll be fine. Just give me a hand will you?” Pete asks.
“I'll go find Myka, I'll bring her here.” Claudia offers.
The thought pleases Pete. Because his head is already spinning from the pain killers, and he isn't sure he can even stand on his feet let alone find Myka or convince her to talk to him.
“Are you sure?” Pete asks.
“Trust me, I can do it, I'll go find Myka and bring her here, just wait here.”
“You don't even know where to start looking.”
“Trust me, I'll find her.” Claudia assures him.
And within a flash, the girl was gone.
Pete feels it instinctively that Myka is in trouble. That she needs him. He had seen that look in her eyes at the prison. He knows she still tortures herself over what happened to Sam. He wants more than anything to take that burden off her shoulders. And now that Pete looks back, even before they got to the prison, before those hallucinations started, Myka had been acting strangely. Pete doesn't think Artie realises how close to the edge Myka is. Artie hadn't been there, hadn't seen the conviction in her eyes as she held that gun to her own head. Pete felt he had been somehow protecting Myka to keep that part of the story to himself. That she wouldn't have wanted the others to know. But he wonders now if he ought to have told Artie. Myka had always built walls around her true feelings, built them up high to keep others out. And he had always been the only one who ever really saw a glimpse into the true Myka. It was up to him to reach her. But he was stranded helpless in this damn hospital bed. All he could do was wait and hope for Claudia to return.
~~
Mrs Frederic is far from pleased as Artie recounts the meeting with Myka.
“I'm afraid that is not an acceptable outcome, Arthur.” Mrs Frederic informs him.
“Myka doesn't want to be part of the warehouse anymore, I can't change that.” He protests.
“Change it you will.” Mrs Frederic insists.
“With all due respect, Mrs Frederic, I can't see the point...”
“I didn't ask for your opinion. Myka is needed at the warehouse. You will ensure she returns to her position immediately. Thank you Arthur.”
And that had been the end of that.
Chapter 8
Artie sighs wearily as he stares down at Myka's file. She and Pete were two of the best agents the warehouse had ever seen. And he didn't want to lose Myka, that much was true. But on the other hand it didn't sit right with him, forcing her back to the warehouse against her will. Myka had been right- she was risking her own life every day at the warehouse- they all were. Who was Artie to stop her leaving if that's what she wanted? The incident with the mirror had frightened him too. He thinks often of what would have happened if Claudia and Leena had not been there. If Myka had been trapped inside for eternity. It was one of many possible horrific outcomes that loomed over them all. Many agents had already lost their lives, many endured a fate worse than death. It was a stark reality. Myka was right to run as fast as she could. Who could blame her for wanting out?
So troubled is he that it is quite some time before Artie asks himself the question- just why is Mrs Frederic so adamant about Myka returning to the warehouse?
As Artie closes the file in front of him, a photograph slips out onto the floor. A photo of Myka's family. While Artie knew many things about Myka, about all the agents, about their families, he had never seen a picture of Myka's parents. And he takes a moment to examine it.
The man in the photo, Myka's father, disturbs him. The man's eyes are staring back at him. He is eerily familiar to Artie. Minutes later Artie convinces himself that the man appears familiar to him because of the resemblance to Myka. That's all.
It's only much later that night, while Myka is still playing on his mind preventing him from sleeping, that the man's face flashes before him again.
Abruptly he sits bolt upright in bed as he remembers just exactly where he has seen that man before.
~~
Myka is still sitting right there in that exact same spot hours after Artie has left her. Still nursing that same cup of coffee, now stone cold. She hasn't any intention of drinking it. She hasn't anywhere to go. She finds it unsettling- Having no where to belong, having no purpose in life. She is a part of nothing. She is no one.
She tries to make plans, with logic and reason and forward thinking. But all she sees in front of her is a brick wall. She is intelligent. Young. There are many opportunities in the world for someone such as her. But they lie too far out of her reach, obscured from view. Everything around her is oppressively dark. She feels like she is drowning. She feels like she doesn't really care much.
Fleetingly she had considered the option of visiting her parents. But she knows she can not face them right now. Things between them were strained enough at the best of times. She never felt worthy in their eyes. She never felt like she belonged. The last thing she needed was their criticism and condemnation. And yet, there was no where else to go.
She had never really longed for the security of a place to call home. But right now she feels so lost. She longs for something to ground her. She needs someone. And she can't help it that her thoughts turn to Pete. In the relatively short time they'd been partners, he had always been there for her. Always stood by her in a way she had never known anyone else to do. He was the one that kept her together, lifted her up.
She thinks back to the first days together. She had warned him then that she was hallucinating about Sam, she had warned him then that he couldn't count on her. But Pete wouldn't hear it. He was so assured of himself. He had so much faith in her, he quelled all her lingering restless fears. “Trust me” he had told her, and she had. But now Pete is gone, she let him down. And only now that Pete isn't around does she realise what a vital part of her existence Pete Lattimer had become.
She is startled out of her thoughts as a man approaches her table.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, smiling confidently.
“I don't think so.” She answers, sighing wearily. She isn't THAT desperate for company. For love.
Uninvited though he is, he sits opposite her.
“Don't you just wish you could tun back time? Undo all the mistakes. Make things right.” The man muses.
She decides he is intoxicated. And abruptly gets up to leave without acknowledging him any further. There was a time she would have told him to #$%^ off, a time she would have flashed her badge or her gun or both and put him in his place. She hasn't the energy tonight. She merely walks away. He makes no move to follow her as she does so. He doesn't have to. His words are enough to stop her in her tracks.
“Agent Bering.” He calls out after her. She stops, but she refuses to turn and face him. Refuses to ask him how he knew her name. If she turned now he would see in her eyes that he had caught her off guard. It would give him too much control, too much satisfaction, and instinctively she is aware that the man is bad news.
“I think you'll find we have a lot in common.” He continues.
“I doubt that.” She answers without turning to face him. She has started for the door again.
“I believe we could be a great help to one another.” He tells her.
At this suggestion, she turns to face him, feeling suddenly bold, feeling suddenly like she can at least make a pretence of boldness. His words intrigue her.
“There is nothing you can do to help me.” She tells him resolutely. She doesn't know or particularly care who he is or how he knows her name, but one thing she is certain about- he can not help her now. There is nothing anyone can do to fix up the mess she's made of her life.
“But, just imagine for a moment, if you could turn back time. If you could change that day in Denver...” His eerie voice trails off leaving the tantalising suggestion hanging between them.