FIC: Thunder in our Hearts/We Both Matter (I live!!!)
Hi guys!
Yes, I know, I've been missing for awhile. Well, I've been at meetatgunpoint crying my eyes out over the W13 Season Finale. But I have decided to write a trilogy! The first part of said trilogy has already been posted at MaG, literally five-ish minutes after I finished watching the finale.
Running Up That Hill Part 1: A Deal With God
Here's Part 2, which is much fluffier and most certainly not my best work. It just needed to be written. I'll try to make Part 3 uber-fantastic.
Title: Thunder in our Hearts/We Both Matter
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: S3 Finale
Summary: Shameless fixit fic and sequel to the drabble “A Deal With God”/second in my “Running Up That Hill” trilogy (yes, I’ve decided it will become a trilogy). Artie does the right thing.
PS: Read two fanfics now where someone beat me to this particular fixit idea, but I think it’s an idea we all had/have, so…. Also, forgive me, I forget the name of the watch.
PPS: Shout-out to The Princess Bride in here. Should be easy enough to find.
Warnings: Having written angst, now it’s time for fluff.
………………………
Artie blinked, still holding the watch. One minute he had been among the ravaged landscape that had once held the Warehouse, and the next he was back in the Warehouse, still beside Myka and Pete, bomb still intact, HG still fiddling with the wires. Bomb still intact. HG at the wires.
“EVERYBODY STOP!!!” Artie yelled. “YOU TOO, WELLS!!!” he added, pointing an accusatory finger at her. As stunned as the other two agents, she dropped what she was working on and held up her hands. The instant she did, Artie stormed over to her.
“Right - you are going to continue with your little science project, but you are NOT going to put the shield over all of us. Myka!” he barked without looking at her. The woman jumped, staring at her boss with some trepidation. “Put the bomb on the floor!” Myka hastily obeyed. Once she had, Artie made an overexaggerated sweep of his arms to gesture at the device. “Ms. Wells, your little shield will be going over this.”
HG frowned for a moment, then her eyes lit up with understanding. “Of course! If the shield can keep the explosion out - ”
“ - then it can keep the explosion in!” Artie finished for her. “Now get to work!” HG leapt to obey, but nearly stopped when he continued with, “You can sacrifice yourself if you want, but you are not taking Myka with you!”
Myka looked like someone had just hit her on the head with a brick. “What?!” She shot HG a look of equal parts anger and curiosity. Helena, still working on her shield diversion, gave her a wide-eyed shrug, just as unsure.
The three other agents gathered at HG’s side as she activated the shield around the bomb. “There we go,” she said quietly, letting the machine slip to the floor. The group sighed, but immediately tensed, knowing they weren’t out of the woods (or the Warehouse) yet.
Myka looked between the bomb and Helena. “You were going to put the shield over us,” she said, the realization knocking the wind out of her. “You were going to save us at the cost of your own life.”
Helena smiled sadly at the agent and nodded, confirming her suspicions. Myka knew, then, what Artie had meant about HG and sacrifice and taking her with her: somehow, he knew Myka’s heart.
Myka returned Helena’s smile as she reached over and laced their fingers together. The dark-haired woman looked down at their joined hands, then back up at the agent in confusion. “I wouldn’t have let you,” Myka whispered.
It was Helena’s turn to be overcome with realization, and despite the implications of Myka’s words, her smile was blinding, tears filling her eyes as she squeezed Myka’s hand. Myka’s answering smile was just as tearful, and for a moment, nothing else mattered - not the Warehouse, not the impending bomb, not the tenuous shield separating them from instant death. They were the two happiest women in the world.
The floor beneath them trembled, and the four Warehouse agents immediately focused their attention on the explosion barely contained within its bubble of blue static. They all moved a little closer together, and Myka’s grip tightened in Helena’s. For seconds that lasted for what felt like an agonizing eternity, they watched the fire rage inside the shield, fighting to escape. The force cracked the floor beneath them, and they all took a step back as the blast ate its way through the segment of the floor it was trapped on, having nowhere else to go. Finally, finally, the fiery havoc ceased, the shield dissipated, and the agents let out the collective breath they’d been holding. For a moment, there was dead silence.
“YES!!!”
“Good God, Pete, don’t do that!” Artie shouted at the man, holding a hand over his chest to calm his heart. Pete was doing a sort of victory dance, having thrown his hands in the air like a boy whose football team just won the Superbowl. Tension broken, even Artie shook his head and grinned as Helena and Myka collapsed against each other with breathless laughter, all four of them celebrating their survival and that of the Warehouse.
While Pete was hugging Artie and the older agent was yelling for him to get off, Myka and Helena stepped away from the two men so they could have a moment together. They took each other’s hands again, this time facing each other, gazes met. Each opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped, everything having been said for that moment. Eventually, Helena smiled, reaching up and stroking Myka’s cheek. Myka leaned into her touch with a similar smile, brushing her lips against Helena’s palm. It was the catalyst to every emotion they’d been holding back, and the two crashed together in a first kiss to put all others in history to shame. Helena wrapped her arms around Myka’s waist while Myka wove her fingers through the Victorian woman’s hair, pressing their bodies flush against each other and still needing more.
“Mother of God!” Artie shouted, prompting the two women to break away from each other, looking a little sheepish. “I already had to deal with that once! You’d think saving her wouldn’t mean I’d have to see it again!”
Everyone’s smiles vanished in the time it took to blink, and Pete, Myka, and Helena were all looking at Artie warily, Helena and Myka with a touch of fear. “Artie,” Myka began quietly, “what happened?”
Artie looked between the three people standing before him, debating how much to tell them. Coming to a decision, he let out a long sigh and told them everything - from Helena’s shield, to Myka’s evasion and then declaration (though he related this with no little amount of blushing), to the Warehouse exploding and taking the two women with it, to using the watch to turn back precious time. “I did it for the Warehouse and for Myka. You were…just an added bonus,” he grumbled, nodding at Helena. None of them were fooled, however; it was impossible to miss the flicker of affection across his face, however small.
“Th-thank you, Ar - Agent Nielson,” Helena replied, voice trembling as she tried to hold back the tears filling her eyes.
Artie went very red in the face, and his mumble of “It’s just Artie,” could barely be heard as he began polishing his glasses on his shirt.
By this time, Pete, who had actually been stunned into silence, regained his power of speech. “Myka, are you nuts?!?” He screeched, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty all over again.
“Nope,” the agent replied without hesitation, wrapping her arm around Helena’s waist in a way that was both comforting and possessive as she gave Pete a look that dared him to challenge her. Deciding that he wished to remain all in one piece, the other agent wisely shut up.
“Could I maybe make the suggestion that we all get out of here?” Artie snapped, back to his usual self. No one was inclined to disagree.
……………………
There was a collective sigh of relief when the four of them burst out the door of the Warehouse and all but sprinted to the nearest car. Piling in with Artie in the driver’s seat, Pete next to him, and the two women in the back, the senior agent aimed for the B&B and floored the gas pedal. Pete called Leena on the Farnsworth to exchange updates while Myka and Helena sat holding each other’s hands, foreheads pressed together.
“You really would have died for me? With me?” Helena murmured, caressing the backs of Myka’s hands with her thumbs.
“You were ready to die for me,” the agent countered, “and better to die with you than live without you,” she admitted. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you, Helena G Wells, and I’m so sorry I didn’t have the courage to say it sooner.”
Helena gave a gasping laugh and reached up to stroke Myka’s cheek. “Grace.” When Myka frowned, Helena continued, “The G - it’s for Grace, and I love you too, Myka Bering.”
Myka’s smile was one of sheer joy and relief, and a single tear escaped from brimming eyes to spill down her cheek. “Ophelia,” she said as she reached up and covered Helena’s hand with her own. “It’s Ophelia.”
“Myka Ophelia Bering,” Helena said, testing the name on her tongue.
“Helena Grace Wells," Myka returned, smile broadening.
Artie couldn’t help but shiver as he heard the same conversation he had erased replay itself behind him. But when he glanced in the rearview mirror to see the two women kissing - again - he came to the humbling realization that while single events could be easily changed, some connections defied entropy and time and remained set in stone.
Yes, I know, I've been missing for awhile. Well, I've been at meetatgunpoint crying my eyes out over the W13 Season Finale. But I have decided to write a trilogy! The first part of said trilogy has already been posted at MaG, literally five-ish minutes after I finished watching the finale.
Running Up That Hill Part 1: A Deal With God
Here's Part 2, which is much fluffier and most certainly not my best work. It just needed to be written. I'll try to make Part 3 uber-fantastic.
Title: Thunder in our Hearts/We Both Matter
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: S3 Finale
Summary: Shameless fixit fic and sequel to the drabble “A Deal With God”/second in my “Running Up That Hill” trilogy (yes, I’ve decided it will become a trilogy). Artie does the right thing.
PS: Read two fanfics now where someone beat me to this particular fixit idea, but I think it’s an idea we all had/have, so…. Also, forgive me, I forget the name of the watch.
PPS: Shout-out to The Princess Bride in here. Should be easy enough to find.
Warnings: Having written angst, now it’s time for fluff.
………………………
Artie blinked, still holding the watch. One minute he had been among the ravaged landscape that had once held the Warehouse, and the next he was back in the Warehouse, still beside Myka and Pete, bomb still intact, HG still fiddling with the wires. Bomb still intact. HG at the wires.
“EVERYBODY STOP!!!” Artie yelled. “YOU TOO, WELLS!!!” he added, pointing an accusatory finger at her. As stunned as the other two agents, she dropped what she was working on and held up her hands. The instant she did, Artie stormed over to her.
“Right - you are going to continue with your little science project, but you are NOT going to put the shield over all of us. Myka!” he barked without looking at her. The woman jumped, staring at her boss with some trepidation. “Put the bomb on the floor!” Myka hastily obeyed. Once she had, Artie made an overexaggerated sweep of his arms to gesture at the device. “Ms. Wells, your little shield will be going over this.”
HG frowned for a moment, then her eyes lit up with understanding. “Of course! If the shield can keep the explosion out - ”
“ - then it can keep the explosion in!” Artie finished for her. “Now get to work!” HG leapt to obey, but nearly stopped when he continued with, “You can sacrifice yourself if you want, but you are not taking Myka with you!”
Myka looked like someone had just hit her on the head with a brick. “What?!” She shot HG a look of equal parts anger and curiosity. Helena, still working on her shield diversion, gave her a wide-eyed shrug, just as unsure.
The three other agents gathered at HG’s side as she activated the shield around the bomb. “There we go,” she said quietly, letting the machine slip to the floor. The group sighed, but immediately tensed, knowing they weren’t out of the woods (or the Warehouse) yet.
Myka looked between the bomb and Helena. “You were going to put the shield over us,” she said, the realization knocking the wind out of her. “You were going to save us at the cost of your own life.”
Helena smiled sadly at the agent and nodded, confirming her suspicions. Myka knew, then, what Artie had meant about HG and sacrifice and taking her with her: somehow, he knew Myka’s heart.
Myka returned Helena’s smile as she reached over and laced their fingers together. The dark-haired woman looked down at their joined hands, then back up at the agent in confusion. “I wouldn’t have let you,” Myka whispered.
It was Helena’s turn to be overcome with realization, and despite the implications of Myka’s words, her smile was blinding, tears filling her eyes as she squeezed Myka’s hand. Myka’s answering smile was just as tearful, and for a moment, nothing else mattered - not the Warehouse, not the impending bomb, not the tenuous shield separating them from instant death. They were the two happiest women in the world.
The floor beneath them trembled, and the four Warehouse agents immediately focused their attention on the explosion barely contained within its bubble of blue static. They all moved a little closer together, and Myka’s grip tightened in Helena’s. For seconds that lasted for what felt like an agonizing eternity, they watched the fire rage inside the shield, fighting to escape. The force cracked the floor beneath them, and they all took a step back as the blast ate its way through the segment of the floor it was trapped on, having nowhere else to go. Finally, finally, the fiery havoc ceased, the shield dissipated, and the agents let out the collective breath they’d been holding. For a moment, there was dead silence.
“YES!!!”
“Good God, Pete, don’t do that!” Artie shouted at the man, holding a hand over his chest to calm his heart. Pete was doing a sort of victory dance, having thrown his hands in the air like a boy whose football team just won the Superbowl. Tension broken, even Artie shook his head and grinned as Helena and Myka collapsed against each other with breathless laughter, all four of them celebrating their survival and that of the Warehouse.
While Pete was hugging Artie and the older agent was yelling for him to get off, Myka and Helena stepped away from the two men so they could have a moment together. They took each other’s hands again, this time facing each other, gazes met. Each opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped, everything having been said for that moment. Eventually, Helena smiled, reaching up and stroking Myka’s cheek. Myka leaned into her touch with a similar smile, brushing her lips against Helena’s palm. It was the catalyst to every emotion they’d been holding back, and the two crashed together in a first kiss to put all others in history to shame. Helena wrapped her arms around Myka’s waist while Myka wove her fingers through the Victorian woman’s hair, pressing their bodies flush against each other and still needing more.
“Mother of God!” Artie shouted, prompting the two women to break away from each other, looking a little sheepish. “I already had to deal with that once! You’d think saving her wouldn’t mean I’d have to see it again!”
Everyone’s smiles vanished in the time it took to blink, and Pete, Myka, and Helena were all looking at Artie warily, Helena and Myka with a touch of fear. “Artie,” Myka began quietly, “what happened?”
Artie looked between the three people standing before him, debating how much to tell them. Coming to a decision, he let out a long sigh and told them everything - from Helena’s shield, to Myka’s evasion and then declaration (though he related this with no little amount of blushing), to the Warehouse exploding and taking the two women with it, to using the watch to turn back precious time. “I did it for the Warehouse and for Myka. You were…just an added bonus,” he grumbled, nodding at Helena. None of them were fooled, however; it was impossible to miss the flicker of affection across his face, however small.
“Th-thank you, Ar - Agent Nielson,” Helena replied, voice trembling as she tried to hold back the tears filling her eyes.
Artie went very red in the face, and his mumble of “It’s just Artie,” could barely be heard as he began polishing his glasses on his shirt.
By this time, Pete, who had actually been stunned into silence, regained his power of speech. “Myka, are you nuts?!?” He screeched, his voice cracking like he was going through puberty all over again.
“Nope,” the agent replied without hesitation, wrapping her arm around Helena’s waist in a way that was both comforting and possessive as she gave Pete a look that dared him to challenge her. Deciding that he wished to remain all in one piece, the other agent wisely shut up.
“Could I maybe make the suggestion that we all get out of here?” Artie snapped, back to his usual self. No one was inclined to disagree.
……………………
There was a collective sigh of relief when the four of them burst out the door of the Warehouse and all but sprinted to the nearest car. Piling in with Artie in the driver’s seat, Pete next to him, and the two women in the back, the senior agent aimed for the B&B and floored the gas pedal. Pete called Leena on the Farnsworth to exchange updates while Myka and Helena sat holding each other’s hands, foreheads pressed together.
“You really would have died for me? With me?” Helena murmured, caressing the backs of Myka’s hands with her thumbs.
“You were ready to die for me,” the agent countered, “and better to die with you than live without you,” she admitted. She took a deep breath to steady herself. “I love you, Helena G Wells, and I’m so sorry I didn’t have the courage to say it sooner.”
Helena gave a gasping laugh and reached up to stroke Myka’s cheek. “Grace.” When Myka frowned, Helena continued, “The G - it’s for Grace, and I love you too, Myka Bering.”
Myka’s smile was one of sheer joy and relief, and a single tear escaped from brimming eyes to spill down her cheek. “Ophelia,” she said as she reached up and covered Helena’s hand with her own. “It’s Ophelia.”
“Myka Ophelia Bering,” Helena said, testing the name on her tongue.
“Helena Grace Wells," Myka returned, smile broadening.
Artie couldn’t help but shiver as he heard the same conversation he had erased replay itself behind him. But when he glanced in the rearview mirror to see the two women kissing - again - he came to the humbling realization that while single events could be easily changed, some connections defied entropy and time and remained set in stone.