**This is my very first piece to ever meet public eyes—and it's definitely a lot darker than I originally intended, but please read, enjoy and give feedback **
*Also, this is an AU set after the first episode of season 2-or in the ambiguous future*
(And if I owned Warehouse 13, there would have been a much more epic death for MacPherson… so I obviously don't)
Pete Lattimer had lived through the combat of war, he'd endured the long battle with guilt over his father's death and most recently, he'd faced off against the unexplainable nature of a belligerent artifact.
Until Pete became part of the Warehouse family, he had faced each battle by immersing himself in a more personal warfare—in high school, the blade of a razor spoke of his guilt; as a marine, each felled enemy wore the face of a friend, a family member, yet another he could not save. When he entered the Secret Service, each lost life was followed by a round of the strongest alcohol available and the most available and ready female around.
It was only at Warehouse 13 that he wasn't given the option of escaping from one pain into another. After each difficult case, Claudia or Myka would bring out a batch of freshly baked cookies and they would sit together and take each other's minds off the horrors of a job gone wrong.
Now, with Artie and Leena gone, Claudia inexplicably missing and only Mrs. Frederic to help the two Secret Service agents watch over the Warehouse, Pete felt as though the world's entire supply of cookies couldn't ease the weight of this burden from his shoulders.
Another artifact, another close call with Myka's life had Pete reaching for old habits.
He wasn't sure how he had ended up tangled in Myka's embrace, both agents soaked through as he noticed the shower running, and her iron grip on his neck and hands. But he did remember the promise torn from his lips by her sobs. They would face this battle together, or not at all.