covert affairs chapter 12
i don't know that i really have much to say about this one. except about the end, and i wouldn't spoil that here. i honestly hope that the subtle thread i purposefully kept throughout this entire fic rings true at its proper moment here.
rated...T
for those who wish to refresh(cuz i know it's been a bit longer than i'd have liked),
chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8 chapter 9 chapter 10 chapter 11
12
Myka sat in an oversized chair, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. The book across her lap rested on the arm, her eyes skipping across the words. Her mother watched her from the counter. She had seen her daughter like this once before, reserved, quiet, empty and broken. Sam's death had taken her down that path, but even that had not lasted as long or seemed to have cut as deep. Myka had not spoken to anyone nor left the house in the 11 months she'd been home. And, though she tried to hide it, there was a pain in her eyes, a pain deep and heavy pain that ate at her fringes and caused a weariness to sit curled around her shoulders. And it grew with each day. "Myka honey, I've got a batch of cookies fresh from the oven, would you like any?"
Myka bit her lip as she finished the paragraph she was on before looking up. "Mom, you know I don't eat sugar."
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Helena woke to her alarm. She stood and stretched, then prepared her clothes for the day-it was Wednesday, which meant her light blue shirt with the darker pair of jeans. She sat down at the wooden desk (a comfort earned from what they told her was progress and good behavior) and waited. In the time before Dr. Holmes arrived at her room, she could write three pages of a letter to Myka as part of her routine each morning. She never mailed the letters, never asked to be allowed, but still she wrote them every day. In the absence of her touch and sight and scent, these letters were all she had of Myka, aside from a single small photo kept in her locket. These letters she wrote made Myka feel closer, and they got her through her days. Myka was what allowed her to endure.
The phrases may have varied, but the letters were all the same. And every morning when she finished her shower, she would hand the folded papers to her warden and ask that they be sealed in an envelope and kept with her possessions. At first, knowing that Dr. Holmes would read them, she avoided specifics as much as possible. But after a few months, she could see that reading them was no longer important and she began to address them to Myka. Each letter was more and more of her heart poured onto the page, and each fell short of what she wanted to express. Each fell short of what she needed to say.
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A breakfast of pancakes with fresh sausage, eggs, and bacon had beed prepared this morning, with a glass of milk. In the summer months, there had been fresh strawberries, though now-in the latter months of autumn-they were absent. At first Helena had been curious about the meals provided. She had not seen any staff, other than her warden and a small handful of rotating guards, and the food was always set out before she arrived. Lavish cuisine made with care and effort was not what one would expect to be given to a lonely prisoner in the abandoned wild. As time wore on, she came to realize that it was the good doctor herself who was responsible for their food. With the newfound knowledge, Helena spent many an afternoon assessing the doctor and how one who carried such malice for her, and a clear anger for the world at large, would spend the time and energy to craft the meals she did. It had to be more than passion for cooking. There was a love she bore for the food and, as Helena had learned, you could taste the love that chefs put into their cuisine.
Wednesday was also the day when Dr. Holmes' supervisor would arrive. They would spend the hours between her breakfast and lunch together, and afterward lunch Helena spent the days either outside or in her library if weather was inclement, or she wished it. The choice was one of the rewards she had earned. These "free hours" were a by-product of Dr. Holmes herself being checked up on, as Helena came to understand that she was not the only one under scrutiny. Or was it rehabilitation? Or was it simply a prison she would never leave?
Did she even want to? Her hand went instinctually to grasp her locket.
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"How is she coming along?" Doctor d'Espoir inquired.
"Progress is made steadily, if not slowly," Doctor Holmes responded coolly as they settled into the comfortable chairs of her living quarters. "Though there has been a plateau of late."
"Plateau?"
Holmes sighed. "A malaise has settled over her; I'm sure you noticed it this morning." Dr. d'Espoir nodded. "Otherwise, she's fine."
"Is she still writing the letters?"
"Every morning."
"Have you read any of them recently?"
"No. Not since the first few months, they contained nothing of interest, and she has never asked they be sent to anyone. They appear to be nothing more than her own personal therapy, I've had no desire to pry into them."
"Has she begun sealing them herself?"
"No. I believe it is a point of trust between us; she trusts me not to read them, and I trust she is keeping no secrets."
"Good. You two could use a little trust." D'Espoir took a sip of her coffee; Dr. Holmes bit her tongue. "Have you warmed to the woman at all?"
Dr. Holmes clenched her jaw, but she had to be honest-they had bonded a little over their love for food. "As much as one would be able."
"Good. Though I suggest you try harder, you're both going to be here for a long time." Holmes clenched her jaw in defiant anger even as her shoulders sank in sad defeat.
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Helena strode casually along the handful of shelves that constituted the facility's library. Every week or so the stock would be cycled and there were plenty of new titles to sate her appetite. Her eyes flitted from title to title, filing each away in her mind, sorting them into an order in which to be read. She skimmed the name of one and her heart sank. Without realizing, she reached up and ran a finger down the spine, feeling the slight depression of the letters. Helena pulled the book down and flipped the pages deftly to a particular passage. 'She was fearless enough in the daylight, and she had the oddest confidence in me...' Helena fell to the floor and sobbed quietly.
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My dear, sweet Myka,
I know now that I will never see you again, and that is my punishment. You are what they have taken from me, what I have taken from myself. You are the one thing in this world that is beautiful. You deserve better than me. I have brought you only pain. My heart aches more than even I could find the words to describe. I am empty without you. Yet, without you I must remain for the rest of my days, however many they may be. I only hope that you might recover and continue your life as it was before I came into it. Forget me, Myka. Take no grief for what I did. It was not your doing. My deeds alone set me here. And for what I have caused you, I shall never find absolution. Perhaps, when my long overdue time comes, I shall find a god who forgives me, for I shall never forgive myself.
Please be gentle on your heart my darl Myka, do not let it grow cold and bitter with time's wounds. You are far too fair and kind a creature to be lost.
It was the first morning Helena had not written three pages. There was nothing left she could say. She held up her locket and ran a finger along the edge, staring at all she had left of the only two people she had ever truly loved.
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Myka sat in a back corner of the bookstore, curled up in a chair. Her hair was back and she nibbled idly on her fingertip. She had often come down, as a child, after hours and sat in the deep leather chair with a single lamp on and read. She enjoyed the quiet and the way the air infused with the sweet, warm smell of books, unadulterated by commotion. This was her safe haven, her secret sanctuary from the assaults of the world.
There was a sigh.
Myka looked up from her book. "What are you doing here?" Mrs. Frederic looked down at her, an air of motherly empathy softening her features. "I'm not an agent anymore. I don't want anything to do with the warehouse or artifacts or..." She was about to say 'Helena,' but the lie caught in her throat.
"I'm not here for you, Myka. Not...entirely. There are other people who need you."
"Pete? Artie? Claudia? Are they hurt?"
"Each in their own way, yes. They will mend in time though, even in your absence. But it's not them I'm here for."
Myka swallowed; there was only one other person. A fear seized her stomach and clawed its way into her throat. Was something wrong? Had she....the thought was too terrible. "Why are you here for her?"
"Because without you she is lost." She let the words hang heavy in the silence. "And because," she added more softly, "without her..." The rest was left unspoken.
Mrs. Frederic sat in the chair next to Myka's. Myka stared forward at the empty space where Mrs. Frederic had been. When she spoke, her voice was flat, but thick. "Why do you think she's worth it?"
"Because I too know what it's like to lose the ones you love. To be angry at everything and nothing. And to have the desire to set it right through any means. And so do you Agent Bering."
Myka turned her head to look at Mrs. Frederic. "I'm not an agent anymore."
"You know more than anyone how much Ms. Wells is worth. If you feel she deserves your forgiveness, or at least your help, there is a small island between Annette and Duke islands." She stood up. "If you care for her still, she needs you Myka."
Myka took a breath to steady her thoughts. When she looked up to respond, Mrs. Frederic was gone. But she had given Myka a place to start.
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It was a three and a half hour flight from Colorado Springs to Ketchikan International Airport, and from there a two hour ferry ride to Metlakatla on Annette Island, and then...she was on her own. The satellite images she could find of the nameless island group were up to date, but so blurry as to obscure any details of the area. She could only hope that the place she was looking for would be on the largest of the island group. She would need to charter a plane to scout the area, and-with any luck-land on the island. There was what looked to be a small airstrip south of Metlakatla, hopefully she could hire someone there. Myka sighed as she went over the maps, going through her itinerary again. It would only take a day. A day and everything could be back the way it was before. In a single day she could have her Helena back.
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A loud, high pitched alarm suddenly rang out from the computer. Claudia sat up straight. "What?" She cocked her head back. "No... Really?" She typed frantically for a moment. "Pete! Pete!" Claudia grabbed her laptop and ran through the halls of the bed and breakfast.
"What? What? Claud, what's wrong?" Pete ran up to her from the kitchen.
"Myka." She took a second to catch her breath. "She bought a plane ticket to Alaska."
Pete stood stock still, a look of calm surprise on his face. "She's coming back."
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Helena wrote no more letters. She no longer poured through strange news articles, she no longer took walks outside, she no longer made attempts to tease Dr. Holmes into annoyance. Her days were consumed by reading the same worn book over and over; her nights with staring out the window high up in the wall of her room at the small slice of sky and stars she had. She clutched her locket nearly constantly.
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Myka buzzed toward the island in the co-pilot seat of a small aircraft. Her eyes scanned desperately as the land came into view. This was her one chance to find Helena. She had convinced the old man to make the flight despite his reticence; it had taken even more to persuade him to land if she saw anything. In the end, it had taken Myka's last savings that won him over. And so she prayed to whoever was listening that Helena was here. There was a storm threatening the area and they only had so much time.
"There!" Myka pointed as she yelled into the pilot's ear. A small grey building sat alone in a field with a strip of flat dirt that could only serve as an airfield. "Can you set her down?" The pilot looked out the side window, surveying the land. He took so long that Myka feared he might say no, but finally he nodded his head and pulled the plane into a banking turn. Myka sighed heavily; what would she find once they landed? Would they know she was coming, would they attack her? Would they refuse to let her take Helena back home? Back to the warehouse. She squared her shoulders and took a slow breath to settle her nerves. The thought of seeing Helena again after over a year made her hands to tremble.
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"I'm worried about her." Dr. Holmes told Kosan when he arrived.
"If she is as bad as you say, then it's good I came myself. We must take no chances with her. She is still a valuable asset to the warehouse."
"I'm afraid she is slipping into a full depressive state. She does almost nothing now, just reads the same book now. One of her own, The Time Machine. I need advisement on how to proceed."
Kosan nodded. "I will see her."
Halfway down the hall to Helena's quarters an alarm sounded. Dr. Holmes and Kosan looked at each other in confusion. They listened closer. The exterior alarm was going off; someone had landed without authority.
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"You said there wouldn't be any trouble!" The pilot shouted angrily at Myka over the sound of his own engines and the wailing klaxon.
"It's okay, I promise. It's nothing, just a perimeter alarm. Stay here! Do not leave without me!"
"You better damn well hurry up then!"
Myka nodded tersely and climbed down from the plane. She didn't know who she had expected to see, but it was a surprise when Adwin Kosan came through the door. It shouldn't have been though, it was Kosan who'd reinstated Helena and Kosan who'd taken her away. Taken her here. And now Myka was going to look him in the eyes and take her back.
Kosan and the woman at his side stared at Myka as she strode quickly toward them. "Ms. Bering," Kosan stated coolly as he opened the door for her. At the nod of his head, Dr. Holmes unlocked a door just inside the entrance and pulled a heavy switch and there was blessed quiet. "I assume you are here to see our prisoner?"
"Yes. Where is she?"
"This way." Kosan led Myka down the hall to Helena's room. Neither spoke.
Kosan unlocked the door and pulled it open. Helena laid in bed, looking at the pictures in her locket. Myka's heart sank and she fought back tears. This was what had become of her brilliant, fiery Helena. If she had been defeated before, now she was broken.
Helena heard the door open, but could not tear her gaze from the photo of Myka she held, remembering her voice, her scent, the way the world felt when she was near. An old feeling pricked in Helena's senses; she sat up on the edge of the bed. Myka. "Why are you here?"
Myka turned to Kosan, "Could you give us some time alone?" He nodded and closed the door behind her as she stepped inside.
Myka wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm here for you."
"Why Myka?"
"To bring you home. Back to the warehouse."
Helena's expression distorted to one of pain. "But Myka, I belong here. After what I did, this is where I belong. This is my home now. I don't deserve anything better. The world is better with me here. The world is safer with me here." Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks unbidden.
Myka looked at her and finally understood. Darkness to her was the one thing dreadful. Her darkness. "Helena..." HG looked at her, her dark eyes pleading for something she dare not ever ask. "Helena... I forgive you. Please, come home with me. We can...we can go back to the warehouse together. I want you with me."
Helena burst into silent tears, burying her face in her hands. Myka fell immediately to her side, holding her close and tight, soaking in her warmth and scent. She felt whole for the first time in over a year.
HG quieted as Myka stroked her hair. "Are you ready to come back with me?"
"Are you positive?"
"Yes, Helena." Myka touched her fingers under Helena's chin and lifted her face gently. "I miss you so much." Myka pressed her lips to Helena's. HG leaned into Myka's body, wrapping her arms around her and holding tight.
"I thought you were lost." Helena settled against Myka's chest and listened to her heart. "I thought I was lost."
"I found you." Myka kissed the top of her head. "But now I have to convince them to let you go."
"Thank you, Myka. For coming for me."
"You crossed centuries to get to me. This was nothing." Myka smiled and winked at her as she knocked on the door for Kosan. He would have had the conversation in the hall, but Myka wanted Helena to hear, so she stayed in the open doorway. Forthrightness was the best approach with Kosan, he was a pragmatic man who preferred not to waste time with indirect chatter. "I want to take her back with me."
"You are no longer a warehouse agent, you cannot take her there."
"Myka..." Helena questioned. "You left?"
Myka turned to Helena and said softly, "We'll talk about it later."
"You wish to be reinstated?" Kosan asked plainly.
"Yes."
"If you do this, and choose to leave again, there will be no coming back. We cannot afford to have agents who are unsure of their position, it puts everyone at the warehouse, and the very nature of the job, at risk."
"I understand, Mr. Kosan. I wish to come back, for good."
"That can be arranged."
"And I want her to come with me."
"You have been here before, Ms. Bering. You trusted this woman once, convinced us all to trust her."
"Not everyone." Myka sighed quietly.
"You were sure then, and we were all betrayed." Helena made a pained face at the remark, but she could say nothing-it was the truth. "Can you be sure she wouldn't do so again?"
Myka looked at Helena. "Yes."
"That is a risk I cannot take, she is not ready to leave."
"I will take personal responsibility for her."
"Myka, no. You cannot be held accountable for my actions. Only I hold that charge. My deeds are my own and no one else's."
"Then you better be sure you don't disappoint me."
Kosan sighed heavily and surveyed Myka and Helena with a furrowed brow. "Fine. I will remand her into your custody. She may stay at Leena's for a probationary period, she will not be allowed in the warehouse during this period. She will not be allowed to accompany you, or any other agents, into the field on cases." He looked at Helena. "You are not an agent, Ms. Wells. But if you satisfy us, your status will be reviewed." He stared at Myka. "She is your responsibility, anything she does rests on your shoulders as much as her own."
Myka nodded. Helena stood, "I believe there are some things with my records, I would like to have them sent to my room at Leena's."
"It will be taken care of."
"Come on, I don't want that pilot waiting too long, I don't trust him not to leave."
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Myka pulled into the driveway of the bed and breakfast. Helena sighed in the passenger seat; Myka took her hand. "You'll be okay."
"Are you sure, Myka? Pete was never fond of me, and Artie..." She sighed again.
"They'll trust me." She twined their fingers together. "Besides, we're not alone. Claudia will help. Even Mrs. Frederic trusts you. That will go a long way, especially with Artie."
"Alright. I know I have a lot to make amends for."
Myka squeezed her hand softly. "Pete will understand that more than you think. Just be honest, especially with him."
"Let's go. I'm not likely to gain any more courage than I currently possess."
Myka smiled, she'd missed her so much.
The sound of a car outside put Pete on alert. Then suddenly he felt... He dropped his comic book and ran outside. At first all he saw was Myka, he was so glad to have her back. Then he saw HG.
Myka walked around the car and took Helena's hand. "We'll do this together."
"Myka, are you positive?"
She smiled at Helena, sucked slightly on her lips and nodded. Halfway to the front door Pete yelled to them, his voice heavy with contempt. "What is she doing here?" He stalked toward them. "Why is she here, Myka? Why isn't she locked away in some prison where she'll never see the light of day again? Where she deserves to be!"
"Because I love her!" The silence that followed was deafening. Myka held Helena's hand tighter. Claudia, Artie, and Leena had chased after Pete and caught up in time for Myka's revelation. "She's here because I love her, because I asked for her to be here." Pete's lip curled up and his expression contorted as he struggled through the multitude of emotions coursing inside him. He finally just turned from them and went inside without a word. He was a Marine, betrayal was the worst sin in his eyes.
"How long?" The voice was Artie's, cool and steady.
Myka thought back to that first kiss. "Blake's inkwell."
"You've been lying to me for two years."
"Well, you made it terribly difficult to inform you of the truth." Myka squeezed Helena's hand quickly and shook her head.
"She's here, so I assume the regents support this." The calm that hung about Artie now was more unsettling than any ire-driven rant.
"As do I." Mrs. Frederic stood behind them in the hall.
"Is everyone conspiring against me," Artie growled.
"Not against you, but for the good of the warehouse. I assure you, Arthur, Ms. Wells is precisely where she belongs. She is not going anywhere this time."
"Of course not. Why would she need to? Everything she could ever want to use against anyone is all packed under one roof, and you're giving it to her!"
"No." Helena spoke gently. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I regret my actions, my choices. They were made from a place of grief and anger and fear. I will not make the same mistakes again." Artie said nothing, only huffed. "Besides, I'm not allowed in the warehouse yet, nor in the field."
"You have six months, Ms. Wells, to prove yourself trustworthy to the regents-and to your coworkers. Abide by our stipulations, and you will be reinstated as an agent of warehouse 13. Which reminds me, Myka." Mrs. Frederic pulled her hands from behind her back and handed Myka a package. "I believe you will be needing these again," she paused. "Agent Bering." Myka took the package and felt the familiar weight of her badge and gun inside and smiled. "Come with me, Arthur. We have some things to discuss."
"Oh, you bet we do."
Claudia remained silent until Artie was out of earshot. "So, you're back...both of you." Myka nodded. Claudia glanced at Helena. "Are you sure?"
Myka looked into Helena's dark eyes and saw happiness and warmth; she smiled. "Yeah. You were right, Claud. I do love her."
"I love you too, Myka."
rated...T
for those who wish to refresh(cuz i know it's been a bit longer than i'd have liked),
chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8 chapter 9 chapter 10 chapter 11
12
Myka sat in an oversized chair, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. The book across her lap rested on the arm, her eyes skipping across the words. Her mother watched her from the counter. She had seen her daughter like this once before, reserved, quiet, empty and broken. Sam's death had taken her down that path, but even that had not lasted as long or seemed to have cut as deep. Myka had not spoken to anyone nor left the house in the 11 months she'd been home. And, though she tried to hide it, there was a pain in her eyes, a pain deep and heavy pain that ate at her fringes and caused a weariness to sit curled around her shoulders. And it grew with each day. "Myka honey, I've got a batch of cookies fresh from the oven, would you like any?"
Myka bit her lip as she finished the paragraph she was on before looking up. "Mom, you know I don't eat sugar."
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Helena woke to her alarm. She stood and stretched, then prepared her clothes for the day-it was Wednesday, which meant her light blue shirt with the darker pair of jeans. She sat down at the wooden desk (a comfort earned from what they told her was progress and good behavior) and waited. In the time before Dr. Holmes arrived at her room, she could write three pages of a letter to Myka as part of her routine each morning. She never mailed the letters, never asked to be allowed, but still she wrote them every day. In the absence of her touch and sight and scent, these letters were all she had of Myka, aside from a single small photo kept in her locket. These letters she wrote made Myka feel closer, and they got her through her days. Myka was what allowed her to endure.
The phrases may have varied, but the letters were all the same. And every morning when she finished her shower, she would hand the folded papers to her warden and ask that they be sealed in an envelope and kept with her possessions. At first, knowing that Dr. Holmes would read them, she avoided specifics as much as possible. But after a few months, she could see that reading them was no longer important and she began to address them to Myka. Each letter was more and more of her heart poured onto the page, and each fell short of what she wanted to express. Each fell short of what she needed to say.
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A breakfast of pancakes with fresh sausage, eggs, and bacon had beed prepared this morning, with a glass of milk. In the summer months, there had been fresh strawberries, though now-in the latter months of autumn-they were absent. At first Helena had been curious about the meals provided. She had not seen any staff, other than her warden and a small handful of rotating guards, and the food was always set out before she arrived. Lavish cuisine made with care and effort was not what one would expect to be given to a lonely prisoner in the abandoned wild. As time wore on, she came to realize that it was the good doctor herself who was responsible for their food. With the newfound knowledge, Helena spent many an afternoon assessing the doctor and how one who carried such malice for her, and a clear anger for the world at large, would spend the time and energy to craft the meals she did. It had to be more than passion for cooking. There was a love she bore for the food and, as Helena had learned, you could taste the love that chefs put into their cuisine.
Wednesday was also the day when Dr. Holmes' supervisor would arrive. They would spend the hours between her breakfast and lunch together, and afterward lunch Helena spent the days either outside or in her library if weather was inclement, or she wished it. The choice was one of the rewards she had earned. These "free hours" were a by-product of Dr. Holmes herself being checked up on, as Helena came to understand that she was not the only one under scrutiny. Or was it rehabilitation? Or was it simply a prison she would never leave?
Did she even want to? Her hand went instinctually to grasp her locket.
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"How is she coming along?" Doctor d'Espoir inquired.
"Progress is made steadily, if not slowly," Doctor Holmes responded coolly as they settled into the comfortable chairs of her living quarters. "Though there has been a plateau of late."
"Plateau?"
Holmes sighed. "A malaise has settled over her; I'm sure you noticed it this morning." Dr. d'Espoir nodded. "Otherwise, she's fine."
"Is she still writing the letters?"
"Every morning."
"Have you read any of them recently?"
"No. Not since the first few months, they contained nothing of interest, and she has never asked they be sent to anyone. They appear to be nothing more than her own personal therapy, I've had no desire to pry into them."
"Has she begun sealing them herself?"
"No. I believe it is a point of trust between us; she trusts me not to read them, and I trust she is keeping no secrets."
"Good. You two could use a little trust." D'Espoir took a sip of her coffee; Dr. Holmes bit her tongue. "Have you warmed to the woman at all?"
Dr. Holmes clenched her jaw, but she had to be honest-they had bonded a little over their love for food. "As much as one would be able."
"Good. Though I suggest you try harder, you're both going to be here for a long time." Holmes clenched her jaw in defiant anger even as her shoulders sank in sad defeat.
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Helena strode casually along the handful of shelves that constituted the facility's library. Every week or so the stock would be cycled and there were plenty of new titles to sate her appetite. Her eyes flitted from title to title, filing each away in her mind, sorting them into an order in which to be read. She skimmed the name of one and her heart sank. Without realizing, she reached up and ran a finger down the spine, feeling the slight depression of the letters. Helena pulled the book down and flipped the pages deftly to a particular passage. 'She was fearless enough in the daylight, and she had the oddest confidence in me...' Helena fell to the floor and sobbed quietly.
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My dear, sweet Myka,
I know now that I will never see you again, and that is my punishment. You are what they have taken from me, what I have taken from myself. You are the one thing in this world that is beautiful. You deserve better than me. I have brought you only pain. My heart aches more than even I could find the words to describe. I am empty without you. Yet, without you I must remain for the rest of my days, however many they may be. I only hope that you might recover and continue your life as it was before I came into it. Forget me, Myka. Take no grief for what I did. It was not your doing. My deeds alone set me here. And for what I have caused you, I shall never find absolution. Perhaps, when my long overdue time comes, I shall find a god who forgives me, for I shall never forgive myself.
Please be gentle on your heart my darl Myka, do not let it grow cold and bitter with time's wounds. You are far too fair and kind a creature to be lost.
It was the first morning Helena had not written three pages. There was nothing left she could say. She held up her locket and ran a finger along the edge, staring at all she had left of the only two people she had ever truly loved.
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Myka sat in a back corner of the bookstore, curled up in a chair. Her hair was back and she nibbled idly on her fingertip. She had often come down, as a child, after hours and sat in the deep leather chair with a single lamp on and read. She enjoyed the quiet and the way the air infused with the sweet, warm smell of books, unadulterated by commotion. This was her safe haven, her secret sanctuary from the assaults of the world.
There was a sigh.
Myka looked up from her book. "What are you doing here?" Mrs. Frederic looked down at her, an air of motherly empathy softening her features. "I'm not an agent anymore. I don't want anything to do with the warehouse or artifacts or..." She was about to say 'Helena,' but the lie caught in her throat.
"I'm not here for you, Myka. Not...entirely. There are other people who need you."
"Pete? Artie? Claudia? Are they hurt?"
"Each in their own way, yes. They will mend in time though, even in your absence. But it's not them I'm here for."
Myka swallowed; there was only one other person. A fear seized her stomach and clawed its way into her throat. Was something wrong? Had she....the thought was too terrible. "Why are you here for her?"
"Because without you she is lost." She let the words hang heavy in the silence. "And because," she added more softly, "without her..." The rest was left unspoken.
Mrs. Frederic sat in the chair next to Myka's. Myka stared forward at the empty space where Mrs. Frederic had been. When she spoke, her voice was flat, but thick. "Why do you think she's worth it?"
"Because I too know what it's like to lose the ones you love. To be angry at everything and nothing. And to have the desire to set it right through any means. And so do you Agent Bering."
Myka turned her head to look at Mrs. Frederic. "I'm not an agent anymore."
"You know more than anyone how much Ms. Wells is worth. If you feel she deserves your forgiveness, or at least your help, there is a small island between Annette and Duke islands." She stood up. "If you care for her still, she needs you Myka."
Myka took a breath to steady her thoughts. When she looked up to respond, Mrs. Frederic was gone. But she had given Myka a place to start.
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It was a three and a half hour flight from Colorado Springs to Ketchikan International Airport, and from there a two hour ferry ride to Metlakatla on Annette Island, and then...she was on her own. The satellite images she could find of the nameless island group were up to date, but so blurry as to obscure any details of the area. She could only hope that the place she was looking for would be on the largest of the island group. She would need to charter a plane to scout the area, and-with any luck-land on the island. There was what looked to be a small airstrip south of Metlakatla, hopefully she could hire someone there. Myka sighed as she went over the maps, going through her itinerary again. It would only take a day. A day and everything could be back the way it was before. In a single day she could have her Helena back.
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A loud, high pitched alarm suddenly rang out from the computer. Claudia sat up straight. "What?" She cocked her head back. "No... Really?" She typed frantically for a moment. "Pete! Pete!" Claudia grabbed her laptop and ran through the halls of the bed and breakfast.
"What? What? Claud, what's wrong?" Pete ran up to her from the kitchen.
"Myka." She took a second to catch her breath. "She bought a plane ticket to Alaska."
Pete stood stock still, a look of calm surprise on his face. "She's coming back."
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Helena wrote no more letters. She no longer poured through strange news articles, she no longer took walks outside, she no longer made attempts to tease Dr. Holmes into annoyance. Her days were consumed by reading the same worn book over and over; her nights with staring out the window high up in the wall of her room at the small slice of sky and stars she had. She clutched her locket nearly constantly.
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Myka buzzed toward the island in the co-pilot seat of a small aircraft. Her eyes scanned desperately as the land came into view. This was her one chance to find Helena. She had convinced the old man to make the flight despite his reticence; it had taken even more to persuade him to land if she saw anything. In the end, it had taken Myka's last savings that won him over. And so she prayed to whoever was listening that Helena was here. There was a storm threatening the area and they only had so much time.
"There!" Myka pointed as she yelled into the pilot's ear. A small grey building sat alone in a field with a strip of flat dirt that could only serve as an airfield. "Can you set her down?" The pilot looked out the side window, surveying the land. He took so long that Myka feared he might say no, but finally he nodded his head and pulled the plane into a banking turn. Myka sighed heavily; what would she find once they landed? Would they know she was coming, would they attack her? Would they refuse to let her take Helena back home? Back to the warehouse. She squared her shoulders and took a slow breath to settle her nerves. The thought of seeing Helena again after over a year made her hands to tremble.
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"I'm worried about her." Dr. Holmes told Kosan when he arrived.
"If she is as bad as you say, then it's good I came myself. We must take no chances with her. She is still a valuable asset to the warehouse."
"I'm afraid she is slipping into a full depressive state. She does almost nothing now, just reads the same book now. One of her own, The Time Machine. I need advisement on how to proceed."
Kosan nodded. "I will see her."
Halfway down the hall to Helena's quarters an alarm sounded. Dr. Holmes and Kosan looked at each other in confusion. They listened closer. The exterior alarm was going off; someone had landed without authority.
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"You said there wouldn't be any trouble!" The pilot shouted angrily at Myka over the sound of his own engines and the wailing klaxon.
"It's okay, I promise. It's nothing, just a perimeter alarm. Stay here! Do not leave without me!"
"You better damn well hurry up then!"
Myka nodded tersely and climbed down from the plane. She didn't know who she had expected to see, but it was a surprise when Adwin Kosan came through the door. It shouldn't have been though, it was Kosan who'd reinstated Helena and Kosan who'd taken her away. Taken her here. And now Myka was going to look him in the eyes and take her back.
Kosan and the woman at his side stared at Myka as she strode quickly toward them. "Ms. Bering," Kosan stated coolly as he opened the door for her. At the nod of his head, Dr. Holmes unlocked a door just inside the entrance and pulled a heavy switch and there was blessed quiet. "I assume you are here to see our prisoner?"
"Yes. Where is she?"
"This way." Kosan led Myka down the hall to Helena's room. Neither spoke.
Kosan unlocked the door and pulled it open. Helena laid in bed, looking at the pictures in her locket. Myka's heart sank and she fought back tears. This was what had become of her brilliant, fiery Helena. If she had been defeated before, now she was broken.
Helena heard the door open, but could not tear her gaze from the photo of Myka she held, remembering her voice, her scent, the way the world felt when she was near. An old feeling pricked in Helena's senses; she sat up on the edge of the bed. Myka. "Why are you here?"
Myka turned to Kosan, "Could you give us some time alone?" He nodded and closed the door behind her as she stepped inside.
Myka wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm here for you."
"Why Myka?"
"To bring you home. Back to the warehouse."
Helena's expression distorted to one of pain. "But Myka, I belong here. After what I did, this is where I belong. This is my home now. I don't deserve anything better. The world is better with me here. The world is safer with me here." Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks unbidden.
Myka looked at her and finally understood. Darkness to her was the one thing dreadful. Her darkness. "Helena..." HG looked at her, her dark eyes pleading for something she dare not ever ask. "Helena... I forgive you. Please, come home with me. We can...we can go back to the warehouse together. I want you with me."
Helena burst into silent tears, burying her face in her hands. Myka fell immediately to her side, holding her close and tight, soaking in her warmth and scent. She felt whole for the first time in over a year.
HG quieted as Myka stroked her hair. "Are you ready to come back with me?"
"Are you positive?"
"Yes, Helena." Myka touched her fingers under Helena's chin and lifted her face gently. "I miss you so much." Myka pressed her lips to Helena's. HG leaned into Myka's body, wrapping her arms around her and holding tight.
"I thought you were lost." Helena settled against Myka's chest and listened to her heart. "I thought I was lost."
"I found you." Myka kissed the top of her head. "But now I have to convince them to let you go."
"Thank you, Myka. For coming for me."
"You crossed centuries to get to me. This was nothing." Myka smiled and winked at her as she knocked on the door for Kosan. He would have had the conversation in the hall, but Myka wanted Helena to hear, so she stayed in the open doorway. Forthrightness was the best approach with Kosan, he was a pragmatic man who preferred not to waste time with indirect chatter. "I want to take her back with me."
"You are no longer a warehouse agent, you cannot take her there."
"Myka..." Helena questioned. "You left?"
Myka turned to Helena and said softly, "We'll talk about it later."
"You wish to be reinstated?" Kosan asked plainly.
"Yes."
"If you do this, and choose to leave again, there will be no coming back. We cannot afford to have agents who are unsure of their position, it puts everyone at the warehouse, and the very nature of the job, at risk."
"I understand, Mr. Kosan. I wish to come back, for good."
"That can be arranged."
"And I want her to come with me."
"You have been here before, Ms. Bering. You trusted this woman once, convinced us all to trust her."
"Not everyone." Myka sighed quietly.
"You were sure then, and we were all betrayed." Helena made a pained face at the remark, but she could say nothing-it was the truth. "Can you be sure she wouldn't do so again?"
Myka looked at Helena. "Yes."
"That is a risk I cannot take, she is not ready to leave."
"I will take personal responsibility for her."
"Myka, no. You cannot be held accountable for my actions. Only I hold that charge. My deeds are my own and no one else's."
"Then you better be sure you don't disappoint me."
Kosan sighed heavily and surveyed Myka and Helena with a furrowed brow. "Fine. I will remand her into your custody. She may stay at Leena's for a probationary period, she will not be allowed in the warehouse during this period. She will not be allowed to accompany you, or any other agents, into the field on cases." He looked at Helena. "You are not an agent, Ms. Wells. But if you satisfy us, your status will be reviewed." He stared at Myka. "She is your responsibility, anything she does rests on your shoulders as much as her own."
Myka nodded. Helena stood, "I believe there are some things with my records, I would like to have them sent to my room at Leena's."
"It will be taken care of."
"Come on, I don't want that pilot waiting too long, I don't trust him not to leave."
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Myka pulled into the driveway of the bed and breakfast. Helena sighed in the passenger seat; Myka took her hand. "You'll be okay."
"Are you sure, Myka? Pete was never fond of me, and Artie..." She sighed again.
"They'll trust me." She twined their fingers together. "Besides, we're not alone. Claudia will help. Even Mrs. Frederic trusts you. That will go a long way, especially with Artie."
"Alright. I know I have a lot to make amends for."
Myka squeezed her hand softly. "Pete will understand that more than you think. Just be honest, especially with him."
"Let's go. I'm not likely to gain any more courage than I currently possess."
Myka smiled, she'd missed her so much.
The sound of a car outside put Pete on alert. Then suddenly he felt... He dropped his comic book and ran outside. At first all he saw was Myka, he was so glad to have her back. Then he saw HG.
Myka walked around the car and took Helena's hand. "We'll do this together."
"Myka, are you positive?"
She smiled at Helena, sucked slightly on her lips and nodded. Halfway to the front door Pete yelled to them, his voice heavy with contempt. "What is she doing here?" He stalked toward them. "Why is she here, Myka? Why isn't she locked away in some prison where she'll never see the light of day again? Where she deserves to be!"
"Because I love her!" The silence that followed was deafening. Myka held Helena's hand tighter. Claudia, Artie, and Leena had chased after Pete and caught up in time for Myka's revelation. "She's here because I love her, because I asked for her to be here." Pete's lip curled up and his expression contorted as he struggled through the multitude of emotions coursing inside him. He finally just turned from them and went inside without a word. He was a Marine, betrayal was the worst sin in his eyes.
"How long?" The voice was Artie's, cool and steady.
Myka thought back to that first kiss. "Blake's inkwell."
"You've been lying to me for two years."
"Well, you made it terribly difficult to inform you of the truth." Myka squeezed Helena's hand quickly and shook her head.
"She's here, so I assume the regents support this." The calm that hung about Artie now was more unsettling than any ire-driven rant.
"As do I." Mrs. Frederic stood behind them in the hall.
"Is everyone conspiring against me," Artie growled.
"Not against you, but for the good of the warehouse. I assure you, Arthur, Ms. Wells is precisely where she belongs. She is not going anywhere this time."
"Of course not. Why would she need to? Everything she could ever want to use against anyone is all packed under one roof, and you're giving it to her!"
"No." Helena spoke gently. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I regret my actions, my choices. They were made from a place of grief and anger and fear. I will not make the same mistakes again." Artie said nothing, only huffed. "Besides, I'm not allowed in the warehouse yet, nor in the field."
"You have six months, Ms. Wells, to prove yourself trustworthy to the regents-and to your coworkers. Abide by our stipulations, and you will be reinstated as an agent of warehouse 13. Which reminds me, Myka." Mrs. Frederic pulled her hands from behind her back and handed Myka a package. "I believe you will be needing these again," she paused. "Agent Bering." Myka took the package and felt the familiar weight of her badge and gun inside and smiled. "Come with me, Arthur. We have some things to discuss."
"Oh, you bet we do."
Claudia remained silent until Artie was out of earshot. "So, you're back...both of you." Myka nodded. Claudia glanced at Helena. "Are you sure?"
Myka looked into Helena's dark eyes and saw happiness and warmth; she smiled. "Yeah. You were right, Claud. I do love her."
"I love you too, Myka."