Chapter 3

Warren walked towards the master bedroom, glad he had taken the time to talk to his daughter. He'd always wanted to be closer to her, but years of trying to keep her from seeing how afraid he was of not being able to protect her had inhibited their relationship. When he went inside the room his wife was still awake.

"I thought you'd be asleep by now," he said, as he got ready for bed.

"I couldn't sleep," she told him, putting the book she had been reading down on the nightstand.

"You thought I'd screw it up, didn't you?" he teased her.

"Not really screw it up, but I knew it wouldn't be easy for you or for her. You two have been distant for so long that I wasn't sure how it would go. I wasn't sure she'd give you another chance, to be honest. She's been hurt over this for years, Warren," Jeannie told him.

"I know, I wasn't sure she'd be willing, either. Did you know she and her former partner were seeing each other?" he asked, slipping into bed next to his wife.

"Yes, but Myka didn't talk much about it."

"She loved him, you know," Warren informed her.

"No wonder she took his death so hard, then," Myka's mom commented.

"Thanks for not giving up on this, Jeannie. It means a lot to me that Myka and I were able to work things out," the bookstore owner told his better half.

"You're welcome. Thank you for doing it. Myka has always loved you, and all she wanted is to know that you loved her back," she told him, kissing his cheek.

"What did you do with my book?" he asked her suddenly.

"I think it's still downstairs on the table. Why?" she asked.

Warren kissed his wife and smiled, "I know what I'm going to do with it."

"Warren, don't you dare burn it," Jeannie threatened him.

"I won't, I promise," he said, leaving the room. Warren went downstairs to the bookstore and found the table his wife mentioned. His book that would never be published was still lying there where his daughter had left it. He picked it up and smiled. He hoped she'd still be awake as he went back upstairs.

When Myka and her father had come upstairs, she had watched him walk to the master bedroom before going into her own room. Once in her room, she put the blanket at the foot of the bed before lying down.

Myka wasn't asleep, since her brain was busy processing the talk she and her father had just had. She'd wanted this for so long, and she was relishing in it. She lay on her back, remembering. When the knock came, it startled her a little. She got up and opened the door.

"Dad, you okay?" she asked, worried something was wrong with him.

"I'm fine, but I thought you might like to have this," he said, producing the book from behind his back.

Myka looked at the book. Because of this book, she and her father were starting on better terms. She blinked a few times to clear her eyes of fresh tears. "Are you sure you want me to have it?" she asked quietly.

"When I wrote it, I wasn't sure why I had. But after tonight, I know why I wrote it. I wrote it for you. I guess I had hoped once it got published, and you read it, things between us would change. So even though it's not published, it sort of did the job I had hoped it would do," he told her while taking one of her hands and putting the book in it.

Myka pulled the book close to her chest and then using her other arm, hugged her dad, "Thank you. I'll cherish it," she told him.

Warren hugged her back, "Well good night, kiddo. Sleep well," he said before returning back to his room.

Pete had heard the exchange and waited until Warren had returned to the master bedroom. As he made his way to Myka's room, he heard her door close. Pete knocked lightly and waited for Myka to open the door.

"Did you forget something Da…" Myka started as she opened the door. "Pete? What are you doing up? I thought you'd be asleep by now."

"Nope, couldn't sleep. So, what happened?" he asked, waiting for her to invite him into her room.

"We talked, and he just gave me his book," the dark-haired woman told her partner.

"Really? Can I read it?" he asked, excited for her.

"No. I haven't read it all yet. I just read that little bit before you showed up with the Pen," she told him.

"Aw, come on Myka let me read it," he teasingly whined.

Rolling her eyes, "Pete, grow up. I might let you read it when I've finished it. Now, good night," she told him, attempting to close the door.

"Wait, I just wanted to say that I'm glad you and your dad worked things out," he told her.

"Thanks, so am I. Now, may I go to sleep?" she asked.

"Good night, Myka."

"Good night, Pete."

Myka closed the door and walked to the bed. She put the book on the nightstand next to the bed. She pulled the covers down enough to get underneath them and crawled into bed. More quickly than she thought she would, Myka was asleep.

Pete went back to the guest room and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A couple of hours later, Pete's vibe woke him up. Not sure what it was, he quietly got out of bed and opened the bedroom door. He stood in the middle of the hall for a while, listening, trying to figure out why his vibe had gone off. He walked towards the master bedroom and quietly opened the door to check on Myka's parents. They were both fast asleep. Pete closed the door and moved to Myka's room.

When he got to her door he could hear muffled sounds coming from her room. Just as he opened the door she bolted upright, screaming, "No!!"

Pete was next to her in a shot, not sure if she was awake or still dreaming. He took her arms and tried to wake her gently.

"Myka, it's okay, you're dreaming. Come on, wake up," he spoke softly.

Pulling herself out of the nightmare, Myka glanced around the room, slightly confused, but then she realized she was still at her parents'. She looked at her partner. "Pete, what are you doing in here?"

"My vibe went off, and I was checking things out," he told her, releasing her arms.

"My parents," she said, attempting to get out of bed. "Move, Pete, I need to go check on them, now!" she pushed him.

"Myka, we're fine, kiddo," her father said from the doorway. Warren and Jeannie had heard their daughter's scream and rushed to make sure she was okay.

Myka looked a little embarrassed as Pete got off the bed. She got up, ran over to her parents and hugged them both.

"I'm sorry I woke you guys up," she told them as they embraced her.

"Are you sure you're okay, dear?" her mom asked as they all finished hugging.

"Yes," Myka told her mom.

"Must have been some nightmare you had there, kiddo," her dad said.

"Yes, it was. Not one I care to ever have again, either," she told him.

"Want to tell us about it?" Pete asked, worried about his partner.

Myka looked at her parents and then Lattimer. "Not really. I'd rather you all just went back to bed. Again, I'm sorry I woke you all up."

"Don't worry about it, dear. You used to have nightmares when you were a little girl," her mom reminded her.

"Mom, don't remind me." Myka groaned, fearing that Pete would use it later to tease her.

"Really, Mrs. B, she had a lot of nightmares?" Pete asked.

"Pete, drop it." Myka threatened her childlike partner.

"Not always. They usually happened when she was stressed or upset," her mom told him.

"Mom, he doesn't need to know that," she chided.

Pete looked at her, "Why not? It could come in handy sometime," he grinned.

"Pete, you will not tease her about this," Warren Bering admonished his daughter's partner.

Myka looked at her dad, a little shocked but pleased, "Thanks, Dad. He would tease me about it, too. He's like that," she teased Pete, while gently smacking his arm.

Myka hugged her parents again before they went back to their bedroom, satisfied she was going to be okay.

She looked at her partner. "Did you need something?"

"Just wanted to make sure you're okay." He told her.

Myka walked back to her bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard. "Close the door, please."

Pete did as he was told and went back to his partner's bed. "What's up?"

"I didn't want to tell my parents about the dream. They'd just worry even more," she told him.

"Why wouldn't you want them to know?" Pete asked sitting down facing her.

"It was pretty much what happened with MacPherson only this time…" Myka started.

Pete noticed that her eyes were filling with tears, "What is it, Myka? What happened in the dream?"

"When I handed MacPherson the Journal and Pen, rather than turning off Jack the Ripper's Lantern without hurting my parents…" she started, but as the image from her nightmare flashed, she fought to keep from crying. Tears streamed down her face as she finished.

"MacPherson did something to the Lantern and my parents..." Myka whispered.

"What did he do?" Pete prompted.

"I'm not sure, but when he disappeared, they weren't moving. I went over to them and..." she went on, looking up at her partner.

Pete moved closer. He'd never seen her look that scared before, not even when MacPherson had actually been there.

"Pete, they weren't breathing and I couldn't find a pulse on either of them," she told him quietly. "He killed them, Pete."

Pete took her hands and pulled her closer into a hug. "Myka, it was just a dream. Your parents are fine," he reassured her. He felt her arms slowly snake around his back. She hugged him back while burying her head in his shoulder. For a few moments she let the tears come and Pete comforted her. When he noticed that she'd stopped shaking, he pulled away a little.

"Feel better now?" he asked.

"A little but I'm scared Pete, scared that he'll come back and kill them," she told him, breaking the embrace to look at him.

"Myka, you know Artie won't let that happen," Pete assured her.

"I know Artie will do his best to make sure it doesn't happen, but we both know what MacPherson is capable of. You saw the body trapped in the wreck the implosion bomb at the Japanese Embassy created. He doesn't care who he hurts or kills, Pete," Myka jogged her partner's memory.

"True but Artie promised he was sending people to protect your parents while we go after him," Pete reminded her.

"I know, but, Pete, they're all I have," she whispered while looking at him. Her eyes were filling with tears again.

"They're not all you have, Myka. You have me, Artie, Claudia, and Leena. Heck, I bet even weird Mrs. Fredric cares, in her own way," Pete told her.

Myka managed a small smile, "I guess so."

"I know so. I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon," he promised her.

The dark-haired woman yawned and motioned for her partner to move. Pete stood up and once he had moved, Myka lay down on the bed, sticking her legs and feet under the covers. "Thanks, Pete. Please don't mention it to them. They don't need to know how scared I am," she pleaded, as she got more comfortable.

"No problem. Maybe you should tell them. They might not worry as much," he suggested.

"Pete, they would worry more if they knew how scared I am. Trust me," she told him yawning.

"Okay, I won't tell them. But if they ask…" he started.

"You say nothing," she instructed him.

"Yes, bossy," he teased.

Myka rolled her eyes, "Go to bed, Pete."

"You okay?" he asked, before leaving

"I think so," she responded.

"Okay. You know where I am if you aren't," he offered as he backed up to the door. He watched her as he did. When she closed her eyes for the first time, he left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Myka closed her eyes and as soon as she did, the image from her dream was there. Her eyes flew open again as she sighed. She tried again to close her eyes but the same thing happened. The image of her dead parents greeted her.

Unable to erase the memory of her dream, the curly-haired agent got out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Thinking that some warm milk might help, Myka set about getting a mug and the milk. Little did she know that Pete hadn't closed his door when he went back to bed.

Since he was worried about his partner, Pete watched from his room and followed her as she went to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway for a moment and quietly cleared his throat.

Myka jumped a little as she set the mug of milk in the microwave, "Pete, stop doing that," she whispered, annoyed.

"Sorry, but I thought you heard me following you," he said.

"Well, I didn't. Why aren't you asleep?" she asked, as the microwave beeped, alerting her that her milk was done. Opening the door, she pulled out the cup and walked over to the table. Setting the mug down, Myka looked at her partner, "What?"

"Where are the glasses?" he asked, quietly opening and closing cupboard doors.

Walking over to the cupboard where her mom housed the glasses, she opened the door, took one out, and handed it to him.

"Thank you," he said, getting the milk out of the refrigerator and pouring some into his glass.

Knowing before he even asked, Myka pushed the cookie jar her mom kept on the counter towards him.

"Why'd ya do that?" he wondered, looking at her.

"Because I heard your stomach growl, you goof," she told him, opening the jar.

"Oh, thanks. Want one?" he said, taking a couple of cookies for himself.

"Maybe one," she told him, taking his cookies.

"Hey! Those are my cookies," he called.

"Shh, don't wake my parents," she scolded him, as he took two more cookies from the jar.

"Well then, don't steal my cookies," the young man admonished as they walked to the table and sat down.

Myka took a sip of the milk she'd warmed up for herself before taking a bite out of one of the cookies she had stolen from Pete.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, before devouring a cookie in one bite.

The dark-haired woman chuckled quietly as she watched him. No matter how much she'd tried to keep him from making her laugh sometimes, he somehow always managed to defeat her.

"No, I kept seeing the end of my dream," she commented.

"It was just a dream," he said, trying to steal her last cookie, since he'd already eaten both of his.

Myka slapped his hand and ate her cookie before he could steal it. "You know there are more in the jar," she told him.

"I know, but it's more fun to try to steal them back," he grinned.

"You are so annoying," she said, smiling back.

"What are you two doing?" Warren Bering asked, standing in the doorway.

Pete and Myka both jumped when they heard her dad's voice.

"Myka stole my cookies," Pip said, pointing at her.

"Grow up, Pete," Myka told him. "I couldn't get back to sleep so I thought a bit of warm milk might help."

"I see. And the cookies?" her dad asked opening the jar and looking in it, "Did you two leave any for me?"

"I did, but you can't trust Pete around cookies," Myka told her dad.

Warren took a couple cookies and then got a glass and took the milk out. Pouring the milk he hesitantly asked, "Myka, what was your nightmare about?" He came over to the table and sat down next to her.

"Seriously Dad, you better watch Pete, he'll steal your cookies if you don't," she told him, hoping to avoid discussing her dream with him. Pete glared, taunting her, while reaching across the table in an attempt to steal a cookie.

"Pete, leave his cookies alone," Myka warned him as she swatted his arm.

"Myka, you didn't answer my question," her dad reminded her as he ate a cookie.

Myka sighed and looked at her dad, "Unlike what happened tonight, the man who sent you the Journal didn't let you and Mom live in my dream," she told him.

"Myka, he did and, from what Pete has told me about your boss, Artie, this man won't get a chance to hurt us again," her dad reminded her, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

"I know…but," she started.

"But nothing, Myka, Artie isn't going to let MacNuttyPants near them or anyone else's family," Pete promised her.

Myka smiled at her dad and Pete, "Thanks. I may need to hear that a few more times though."

"We'll both remind you," Pete told her.

Yawning, Myka stood up, "Well, I'm going to once again attempt to get some sleep," she said to her dad and partner as she picked up her mug.

Warren took the mug from her, "I'll clean up, kiddo, you two have a long journey in the morning."

"Thanks, Dad," Myka said kissing him on the cheek without thinking.

Her dad smiled, "I could get used to that."

Myka laughed as she walked back to her room, "Me, too," she told him.

"Night, Mr. B," Pete commented, handing his glass to the older man.

"You best rinse that glass out before you go to bed, son," Myka's dad teased him.

"You took Myka's mug," Pete wheedled, as he rinsed his glass and then put it in the dishwasher.

"She's my daughter," Myka's dad reminded him, winking.

"Good night, sir," the younger man chuckled as he left the kitchen.

While walking back to the guest room, Pete noticed that Myka's door was open a little so he poked his head in, "You okay partner?"

Myka was lying on her side, trying to will herself to sleep but not having any luck.

"I will be once I can get some sleep," she told him.

Pete opened the door and came into her room. "I could tell you a story," he offered.

Myka smiled and then yawned again. "I don't think one of your stories would help put me to sleep."

"Well, I could keep you company until you do, if you want," he offered.

"Pete, this bed is barely big enough for me, much less you. I think I'll be okay," she pointed out.

Looking down, Pete asked, "What's wrong with the floor?"

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," she teased him.

Pete rolled his eyes and left without closing the door. Myka saw the door open and sat up getting ready to close it, when Pete came back in carrying a pillow and a blanket. He closed the door behind him, and then walked over to her bed.

"Pete, what are you doing?" she asked watching him lie down on the floor next to her bed.

"I'm going to keep you company," he offered.

"I told you, you don't have to," she repeated.

"I know, but maybe you'll be able to sleep if I'm here. I know when I was a kid it used to help me when one of my parents would stay with me until I fell asleep after a nightmare," he commented covering himself with the blanket.

"Thanks, Pete," she said softly.

"Sleep well, Myka," he told her as he watched her get comfortable again.

"You too, Pete," Myka yawned and closed her eyes.

Soon both were asleep, and no more nightmares plagued the dark-haired woman that night.