Warehouse 13 Fic: Time will Tell: Myka & HG Wells: 6/?
Title:Time will tell (title shamelessly stolen from episode!)
Author: Carly Carter
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters: Myka & HG Wells
Rating: PG thus far.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything
Summary: Myka doesn't know whose side she is on anymore. She doesn't know who she is anymore. She doesn't know what she wants.
*Diverges from canon after 'For the team.'
Chapter 1 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/36547.html
Chapter 2 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/39343.html
Chapter 3 & 4 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/41915.html
Chapter 5 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/42348.html
Chapter 6
“Do I strike you as a woman who would take 'no' for an answer?” HG asks. To Myka it sounds almost like a threat.
The thing is, Myka is armed. She has her gun, she has the Tesla. She has options- she is not a helpless victim. Yet she sits there, perfectly still. She sighs deeply as she stares out at the ocean.
“I may as well just turn myself in now? I suppose that's what you want? To see Artie and the regents re-bronze me, send me back where I belong?” HG asks.
“No.” Myka answers. She is hurt, and irritated, by that suggestion. It was for HG's own good to put a stop to this plan. No other reason.
“I suppose there is always Pete.” HG muses, eyeing the syringe.
“Don't you dare.” Myka warns the other woman, fire in her eyes as she turns to face her.
“You care deeply about him.” It's almost an accusation.
“Yes, I do.” Myka doesn't deny it.
“And not about me.” HG adds sadly, sounding almost childlike.
“Why would I be here if I didn't care?” Myka protests. She doesn't quite know why, but she is desperate for HG Wells to believe that, yes, she cares about her.
There is silence for the longest time. Myka wonders whether she ought to pick up her shoes and leave. They've reached an impasse. The night is almost over, the darkness diminishing minute by minute. She ought to get back. HG ought to leave. But she still makes no move. Almost as if HG has cast a spell over her.
Myka is caught off guard by the way HG knocks her to the ground suddenly. Within seconds she feels the burning stinging of the needle entering her skin. Horrified, she struggles beneath the other woman's body. It's futile.
“What have you done?” Myka asks, horror dripping from her voice.
“Forgive me.” HG pleads. “One day you'll understand. Things are never as they seem to be. I'm sorry it had to be like this.” There are tears glistening in HG's eyes, sincerity in her tone.
She leans forward and kisses Myka. Myka makes no move to stop her, not at first. Angrily, hungrily she returns the kiss. One last time, she tells herself. And then finally she breaks away, shoving HG Wells forcefully aside and scrambling to her feet.
So desperate to be away, Myka leaves her shoes discarded in the sand. HG picks them up slowly as she watches Myka walk away. Myka hears the other woman following her. Slowly, carefully. HG makes no move to approach her. No doubt she knows better. Knows the seething rage Myka feels at being over ruled in such a manner.
Suddenly Myka finds it so difficult to keep upright, she stumbles one bare foot after the other, reaching for nearby wall to steady herself. Everything is blurry, she can't see straight. As her legs give way, and her eyes roll back in her head, she feels HG reach out at catch her.
She mumbles feebly “Don't touch me.” But HG Wells pays no attention.
Myka is dimly aware of HG pushing her up the stairs. All she wants is to close her eyes and sleep, but the other woman won't allow it, grabbing her by the arms, all but dragging her to the top of the landing.
As they reach the door to the motel room, Myka slumps to the floor, head in her hands. HG fumbles in Myka's pocket for the room key.
“Myka you have to get up!” She says it forcefully, but she is whispering. And Myka thinks of Pete, across the hall. She wonders what HG has done to him. She wonders what would happen if she screamed his name right now. She wonders, but she doesn't do it. She doesn't know why.
“Myka!” She pleads. There is something in her voice, some desperation, almost fear. It makes Myka think HG Wells hadn't planned this out very well, and that is not a terribly comforting thought.
Still, Myka does what the other woman asks, and makes an attempt to stand to her feet. HG pushes her in the door, and she wants nothing more than to collapse on the bed and sleep. Everything else be damned. But HG is pulling her towards the bathroom.
“Look at you. You have sand everywhere.” HG tells her.
“Whose fault is that?” Myka manages to mumble, although it takes all her energy.
HG undresses her as if she were a little child. She is certain HG's fingertips linger over her body longer than is necessary. She opens her eyes for a moment, watching HG. She sees burning desire in her stare. It makes no sense to her.
HG pushes her as gently as she is able under the shower. The water is a rude awakening. All she wants is to close her eyes and sleep. Myka slumps down in the corner under the running water. She is crying. She doesn't even know why. She feels so tired, so confused, so vulnerable, so foolish, and nothing is as it should be.
HG kneels down to her level. “Don't cry, Myka, please.” HG says, brushing strands of wet curls from her eyes. HG herself is getting wet, but she doesn't seem bothered by the fact.
Somehow the other woman's touch, her reassuring voice, quells the unrest in Myka's spirit. She is dimly aware of HG taking her by the hand, drying her, dressing her, leading her to the bed and tucking her in as if she were a little girl. HG kisses her on the cheek, laying down beside her, wrapping her arms around her. HG whispers “I'm sorry. It was the only way. One day you will understand why I had to do this.”
The very strange thing is, Myka doesn't ever remember feeling so cherished, so safe, in her entire life as she does right in that moment.
And that's the last thing Myka remembers as she surrenders to sleep.
~
She is rudely awakened by the relentless banging. She rolls over in bed, groaning and pulling the pillow over her head to drown out the intrusion to her sleep. She has a splitting headache. The words of HG Wells ring in her head “This won't hurt a bit.”
Oh yes, she thinks to herself, it hurts.
She tries to convince herself the last night had been a dream. A bizarre dream and nothing more. But she doesn't really believe it.
Through the banging, which she has now ascertained is Pete knocking on her door, she hears him calling her name. “Hey Myka, open up.”
She wants to ignore him, ignore everything, and drift off to sleep. But he is becoming more insistent with his demands. Almost frantic. And there is only one way to get him to shut up.
Slowly she manages to drag herself out of bed. She is unsteady on her feet, but manages to make it across the room. She tightens her grip on the door handle to steady herself as she opens the door to him.
“No need to break the door down.” She manages to tell him.
“Whoa.” He says as he stands back and takes a look at her. “Someone had a bit too much to drink last night?” He teases her.
She wonders briefly what time it is, what a mess she must look, what he must think seeing her still in her pyjamas. She says nothing. Partly because she is breathless and doesn't have the energy. Partly because she can't think of a single thing to say. Let him think she is hung over if that's what he wants. She doesn't step aside to let him it, because if she let go of the door handle, she is certain she would collapse.
“Myka?” He asks finally. “Are you ok?”
She makes a supreme effort to lift her head to meet his gaze. “Fine.” She tells him. She knows he won't believe it, she says it anyway.
He reaches forward and touches her forehead “You're burning up.”
She doesn't say a thing. She wonders in that moment how HG Wells could be so damn confident that she won't spill this whole story to Pete right here and now. Tell him everything, how HG has infected her with a freaky virus, how she had the cure, how she is going to use the whole situation to her advantage to win favor with the regents.
He takes her hand, pulls her close, she collapses into his strong embrace. He is the only thing holding her upright. She feels terrible. She feels afraid. And here is Pete, who has always been her rock. She wants to tell him everything. But she thinks of HG. Thinks about what would happen if the regents found out about this. She just can't bring herself to do it.
“I think you should go back to bed.” Pete tells her, leading her by the hand. And she follows behind him, saying absolutely nothing.
Author: Carly Carter
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Characters: Myka & HG Wells
Rating: PG thus far.
Disclaimer: Don't own anything
Summary: Myka doesn't know whose side she is on anymore. She doesn't know who she is anymore. She doesn't know what she wants.
*Diverges from canon after 'For the team.'
Chapter 1 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/36547.html
Chapter 2 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/39343.html
Chapter 3 & 4 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/41915.html
Chapter 5 ---> carlyisnot.livejournal.com/42348.html
Chapter 6
“Do I strike you as a woman who would take 'no' for an answer?” HG asks. To Myka it sounds almost like a threat.
The thing is, Myka is armed. She has her gun, she has the Tesla. She has options- she is not a helpless victim. Yet she sits there, perfectly still. She sighs deeply as she stares out at the ocean.
“I may as well just turn myself in now? I suppose that's what you want? To see Artie and the regents re-bronze me, send me back where I belong?” HG asks.
“No.” Myka answers. She is hurt, and irritated, by that suggestion. It was for HG's own good to put a stop to this plan. No other reason.
“I suppose there is always Pete.” HG muses, eyeing the syringe.
“Don't you dare.” Myka warns the other woman, fire in her eyes as she turns to face her.
“You care deeply about him.” It's almost an accusation.
“Yes, I do.” Myka doesn't deny it.
“And not about me.” HG adds sadly, sounding almost childlike.
“Why would I be here if I didn't care?” Myka protests. She doesn't quite know why, but she is desperate for HG Wells to believe that, yes, she cares about her.
There is silence for the longest time. Myka wonders whether she ought to pick up her shoes and leave. They've reached an impasse. The night is almost over, the darkness diminishing minute by minute. She ought to get back. HG ought to leave. But she still makes no move. Almost as if HG has cast a spell over her.
Myka is caught off guard by the way HG knocks her to the ground suddenly. Within seconds she feels the burning stinging of the needle entering her skin. Horrified, she struggles beneath the other woman's body. It's futile.
“What have you done?” Myka asks, horror dripping from her voice.
“Forgive me.” HG pleads. “One day you'll understand. Things are never as they seem to be. I'm sorry it had to be like this.” There are tears glistening in HG's eyes, sincerity in her tone.
She leans forward and kisses Myka. Myka makes no move to stop her, not at first. Angrily, hungrily she returns the kiss. One last time, she tells herself. And then finally she breaks away, shoving HG Wells forcefully aside and scrambling to her feet.
So desperate to be away, Myka leaves her shoes discarded in the sand. HG picks them up slowly as she watches Myka walk away. Myka hears the other woman following her. Slowly, carefully. HG makes no move to approach her. No doubt she knows better. Knows the seething rage Myka feels at being over ruled in such a manner.
Suddenly Myka finds it so difficult to keep upright, she stumbles one bare foot after the other, reaching for nearby wall to steady herself. Everything is blurry, she can't see straight. As her legs give way, and her eyes roll back in her head, she feels HG reach out at catch her.
She mumbles feebly “Don't touch me.” But HG Wells pays no attention.
Myka is dimly aware of HG pushing her up the stairs. All she wants is to close her eyes and sleep, but the other woman won't allow it, grabbing her by the arms, all but dragging her to the top of the landing.
As they reach the door to the motel room, Myka slumps to the floor, head in her hands. HG fumbles in Myka's pocket for the room key.
“Myka you have to get up!” She says it forcefully, but she is whispering. And Myka thinks of Pete, across the hall. She wonders what HG has done to him. She wonders what would happen if she screamed his name right now. She wonders, but she doesn't do it. She doesn't know why.
“Myka!” She pleads. There is something in her voice, some desperation, almost fear. It makes Myka think HG Wells hadn't planned this out very well, and that is not a terribly comforting thought.
Still, Myka does what the other woman asks, and makes an attempt to stand to her feet. HG pushes her in the door, and she wants nothing more than to collapse on the bed and sleep. Everything else be damned. But HG is pulling her towards the bathroom.
“Look at you. You have sand everywhere.” HG tells her.
“Whose fault is that?” Myka manages to mumble, although it takes all her energy.
HG undresses her as if she were a little child. She is certain HG's fingertips linger over her body longer than is necessary. She opens her eyes for a moment, watching HG. She sees burning desire in her stare. It makes no sense to her.
HG pushes her as gently as she is able under the shower. The water is a rude awakening. All she wants is to close her eyes and sleep. Myka slumps down in the corner under the running water. She is crying. She doesn't even know why. She feels so tired, so confused, so vulnerable, so foolish, and nothing is as it should be.
HG kneels down to her level. “Don't cry, Myka, please.” HG says, brushing strands of wet curls from her eyes. HG herself is getting wet, but she doesn't seem bothered by the fact.
Somehow the other woman's touch, her reassuring voice, quells the unrest in Myka's spirit. She is dimly aware of HG taking her by the hand, drying her, dressing her, leading her to the bed and tucking her in as if she were a little girl. HG kisses her on the cheek, laying down beside her, wrapping her arms around her. HG whispers “I'm sorry. It was the only way. One day you will understand why I had to do this.”
The very strange thing is, Myka doesn't ever remember feeling so cherished, so safe, in her entire life as she does right in that moment.
And that's the last thing Myka remembers as she surrenders to sleep.
~
She is rudely awakened by the relentless banging. She rolls over in bed, groaning and pulling the pillow over her head to drown out the intrusion to her sleep. She has a splitting headache. The words of HG Wells ring in her head “This won't hurt a bit.”
Oh yes, she thinks to herself, it hurts.
She tries to convince herself the last night had been a dream. A bizarre dream and nothing more. But she doesn't really believe it.
Through the banging, which she has now ascertained is Pete knocking on her door, she hears him calling her name. “Hey Myka, open up.”
She wants to ignore him, ignore everything, and drift off to sleep. But he is becoming more insistent with his demands. Almost frantic. And there is only one way to get him to shut up.
Slowly she manages to drag herself out of bed. She is unsteady on her feet, but manages to make it across the room. She tightens her grip on the door handle to steady herself as she opens the door to him.
“No need to break the door down.” She manages to tell him.
“Whoa.” He says as he stands back and takes a look at her. “Someone had a bit too much to drink last night?” He teases her.
She wonders briefly what time it is, what a mess she must look, what he must think seeing her still in her pyjamas. She says nothing. Partly because she is breathless and doesn't have the energy. Partly because she can't think of a single thing to say. Let him think she is hung over if that's what he wants. She doesn't step aside to let him it, because if she let go of the door handle, she is certain she would collapse.
“Myka?” He asks finally. “Are you ok?”
She makes a supreme effort to lift her head to meet his gaze. “Fine.” She tells him. She knows he won't believe it, she says it anyway.
He reaches forward and touches her forehead “You're burning up.”
She doesn't say a thing. She wonders in that moment how HG Wells could be so damn confident that she won't spill this whole story to Pete right here and now. Tell him everything, how HG has infected her with a freaky virus, how she had the cure, how she is going to use the whole situation to her advantage to win favor with the regents.
He takes her hand, pulls her close, she collapses into his strong embrace. He is the only thing holding her upright. She feels terrible. She feels afraid. And here is Pete, who has always been her rock. She wants to tell him everything. But she thinks of HG. Thinks about what would happen if the regents found out about this. She just can't bring herself to do it.
“I think you should go back to bed.” Pete tells her, leading her by the hand. And she follows behind him, saying absolutely nothing.