Title: Through the Dark
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Pairing: Myka, Myka/Helena
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Summary: Helena's gone and the Warehouse is destroyed, but even in that darkest of hours, all is not lost.
The devastation around them was unimaginable, but when the last of the fires burning around them faded to embers and the force-field that had protected them from the blast flickered out of existence, Myka's mind was focused not on all of the priceless manuscripts, books, artifacts, gems, and paintings that had been destroyed, but on the loss of one extraordinary, beautiful, irreplaceable thing, the life of the woman she loved.
She stepped forward, heedless of the glowing debris that was still alight around them. She felt fingers on her arm, but she shrugged them off and continued forward until she reached the spot where she had last seen Helena. She looked down, looked for some sign of the woman who had made her heart sing, but there was nothing left. No lock of hair remained, no scrap of clothing smoked on the ground, no necklace lay charred amongst the debris. There was nothing. Nothing remained of Helena Wells, not even ash.
She was gone, Myka realized with a crushing clarity that robbed her of breath. They had just found each other again. They had just made peace with the ghosts of their past and now ... she was gone. No, not gone, Myka corrected squeezing her eyes shut against the stinging tears forming in them. She was dead. Helena was dead.
A sound that Myka had never heard before escaped from her, and she lifted her hand and pressed it against her mouth to stop another such wail of anguish from being released. Tears streamed down her face, and she wrapped her arm protectively across her clenching, churning stomach as her shoulders hunched over. Her body spasmed with the force of her silent despair, and for once, Myka simply let it. She was aware, on some level, of Pete and Artie were standing just behind her, but she couldn't compartmentalize what she was feeling. She couldn't wrestle her feelings down into some deep, dark part of her so that she could remain professional until she was finally alone and could let herself grieve. At that moment, with the memory of Helena's melodic voice still in her ears, Myka couldn't be strong; she couldn't do anything but weep for the bright, beautiful, brilliant life that had just been snuffed out of existence.
She wasn't sure how long she had been standing there, clinging to herself for comfort, as tears streamed down her cheeks, but Myka had just started to pull herself together and was beginning to wipe away the tears that had dampened her cheeks when she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned her head to see Artie standing beside her.
"All's not lost," Artie said softly, gently, as he looked up into Myka's red, shimmering eyes.
Myka looked around her at the vast nothingness that had once been the Warehouse and for a moment a crippling desolation settled over her. Before long however, a surprisingly intense flare of anger rose up in her, and Myka found herself clenching her fist so tightly her arm shook in order to try and contain the furious outburst she could feel building inside of her, screaming for release.
"All's not ..." Myka began to sputter, her voice angry and incredulous, before she forced herself to close her eyes in an attempt to try and control the overwhelming rush of emotions that were crashing around inside of her.
"No," Artie replied lifting his hand up to display a pocket watch Myka hadn't noticed him holding before the Warehouse went up in flames. "Not yet," he whispered, gazing at the watch for a second before he turned his attention back to Myka and Pete.
Myka looked from the watch to Artie and then back again, her posture straightening and her eyes narrowing with focus as understanding started to dawn.
The Warehouse was gone. They stood in a smouldering ruin. Over two thousand years worth of work had vanished before their eyes, but not every artifact in the Warehouse had been destroyed.
Despite all odds, one artifact remained. One faint, staggering, belligerent ray of hope endured cradled in Artie's palm.
"What does it do?" Myka asked, voice firm and eyes determined.
"It turns back time."
Myka's eyes closed, a single tear escaping from the corner of one as her lips curved up the slightest bit.
Though it had seemed impossible to her a minute before, Artie was right. All was not lost.
Sitting in the glowing circle created by the force-field that had shielded them from the blast, Artie explained how the pocket watch worked.
Like Helena's 'time machine', the watch could transport the consciousness of the person holding it back in time twelve hours. Through some unknowable natural magic, like the force that guided the cliff swallows to Capistrano, a person's consciousness would be drawn to the spot where their physical body existed twelve hours in the past, and that future consciousness would supplant the one from the original time-line, allowing the holder of the watch to keep their knowledge of the future while in the past.
"Don't even think about it," Myka murmured, lancing Artie with her eyes when he looked down at the watch and then between herself and Pete.
"Whoever retains their memories may be ..."
"You're thinking about it," Myka interjected coolly before Artie could say more. "Don't," she stated, eyes narrowing as she held her hand out to receive the watch.
"This is about more than H.G.," Artie said watching Myka closely.
"I know that," Myka replied steadily, though her eyes dropped away from Artie's for a moment as she took a deep breath. "I understand. Our priority is the Warehouse," she continued a few seconds later, looking up and meeting Artie's eyes steadily and with determination.
The Warehouse came first, but that was fine because Helena had died when the Warehouse had, so stopping the Warehouse from being destroyed would also stop Helena from having to sacrifice herself. It was a classic, 'two birds, one stone' scenario. Helena would have found it 'terribly efficient'.
"If you're put in a position where ..."
"Give her the watch, Artie," Pete said before Artie could say more. "She's Myka," he conctinued seriously, holding Artie's gaze. "She'll do what's right."
Myka had her book learning and Pete had his vibes, but vibes wouldn't help him make things better if Artie gave the watch to him. Going back in time and righting the wrongs of the past twelve hours was the kind of job that required book learning and mastery of nerdy hobbies like chess. He had already forgotten the move H.G. had used to stop Myka's head from being turned into a piggy bank but Myka never forgot anything. Even though H.G. had a way of turning Myka all girly-'giggling on the phone and twirling her hair'-girl, the plan stood the greatest chance of success if Myka kept her memories.
Artie took off his glasses and rubbed at the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand, then, with a sigh, he put his glasses back on and reluctantly reached out to place the watch in Myka's palm.
He trusted Myka, she was an exemplary agent and woman, but he knew how love could lead people astray. He would have preferred to use the watch himself, but the decisive action had taken place in Hong Kong and he had been at the Warehouse, which meant that either Myka or Pete had to be the one go back, and despite his concerns about her emotional state, Myka was the best choice.
"Good luck," Artie said as Myka wrapped her fingers around the watch and rested her thumb lightly on the dial.
Myka nodded grimly and then she turned the dial and the world went dark.
The first thing Myka became aware of, after the screaming agony of the plane's interior lights, was the sound of Pete's voice.
" ... so, are you gonna eat that?"
Blinking through the painful and confusing sensory distortion caused by the transfer of her consciousness, Myka was just able to make out Pete gesturing at her food tray with a plastic fork while he fiddled with the wrapper to a chocolate chip cookie with his other hand.
"Yes," Myka managed to choke out, and Pete's face fell as he drew his fork back over to his own tray.
He was quiet for a moment after that, which Myka was grateful for as it gave her a chance to pull herself together, and when Pete eventually turned to face her with a hopeful expression on his face again, Myka was able to see without a shooting pain driving through her brain, and she was confident that she wouldn't need to suddenly reach for an air sick bag.
"Are you gonna eat ..."
"Yes," Myka responded again without bothering to look at which part of her dinner Pete was pointing at.
In the original time-line she remembered that she had given him her cookie and her roll, but apparently having your consciousness rush through time worked up an appetite, because Myka was absolutely ravenous and planned to keep her dinner for herself this time.
"Man, I'm still hungry," Pete moaned, slumping against the back of his seat morosely. "How much do you think I'll have to take off to get another bag of peanuts?" he asked, fiddling with the bottom of his shirt contemplatively.
"I'm pretty sure they'll give you all the peanuts on the plane to keep everything on," Myka murmured.
Pete made a face at her, and despite the direness of their situation, Myka found herself smiling.
"How long until we land?" she asked when Pete's hangdog expression had faded.
"We're six hours," Pete began watching as Myka began to tuck into her meal with a gusto he couldn't help but admire, "or three Adam Sandler films away from the landing in the country that made everything I own ... and probably this plane."
Myka smirked at him but it was distracted, and by the time Pete turned his attention to putting on his headphones, Myka's mind was already on the task at hand, trying to figure out a way to save the Warehouse and her woman.
One Farnsworth conversation and an irritatingly long cab ride later, Myka and Pete found themselves in the Chinese Restaurant where the Regents Tai Po sanctum had once resided.
The plan was simple.
In the original time-line hitting Cecil B. DeMille's riding crop with a blast from the Tesla had disrupted the crops hold over Helena and forced Sykes to release it. The first time around, Myka and Pete had been uncertain what the effects of firing on Sykes would be and hesitating to act had robbed them of the element of surprise. This time there would be no such delay. Myka would round the corner immediately and fire at the riding crop, Helena would be freed from Sykes control, and in the confusion that followed Pete would retrieve the riding crop leaving Sykes powerless. Myka would then be able to gently guide Helena into realizing how to win the chess game which would open the portal to the Warehouse and save Tyler's life, then Artie and Jane would be able to use George Washington's hatchet to force Sykes into telling them the truth about how to disarm the bomb.
The plan was simple ... but of course, things very rarely went according to plan.
Pete and Myka crept through the dank tunnel that led to the game room as quietly as mice, but when Myka rounded the corner, Tesla drawn, Sykes' back was to her.
Despite her dramatic entrance, with his back to her Sykes was unaware of her presence and the Tesla trained on him, but Helena saw her and couldn't help but react.
Helena's eyes widened at the sight of Myka and her chest stilled when their eyes met. She recovered from her surprise quickly and almost immediately cut her eyes back over to the chess board, but Sykes noticed Helena's reaction and began to turn his head to see what had caught her attention.
Myka knew that as soon as that happened, the gun in Helena's hand would be forcibly turned on her as it had been the last time and she knew how things would play out if that happened.
If she had a pause button and could have frozen everyone in place, Myka was sure she could have come up with a better solution to her problem, but life didn't come with a remote control and she was forced to go with the lesser of two evils and turned the Tesla on Helena, firing just as Sykes began to force the gun in Helena's hands towards her.
The explosion of light from the Tesla distracted Sykes momentarily, and instinctively he turned his head to watch as Helena's body crumpled to the ground. He wasn't distracted for long. He only turned to look for a second, but the game room wasn't large, and by the time he looked back Myka was practically on top of him and Pete was right behind her.
Sykes' eyes widened and his gaze flickered indecisively between the two of them before he finally focused his attention on the closest threat, Myka.
"Pete!" Myka called out warningly as she felt energy coursing through her, quickly robbing her of control over her body.
"I'm on it!" Pete replied in a rush, quickly adding, "Sorry!" before he checked his body into Myka's, knocking her over and jostling the Tesla from her hands.
Using the same momentum he then continued towards Sykes and flung himself at the blond man, slamming into Sykes' body and knocking over his wheelchair.
DeMille's riding crop fell out of Sykes' hand as he and Pete crashed to the ground, and though he was slightly dazed from impact, Pete was able to use his arm to swipe the riding crop a few meters away from where he and Sykes had landed before his face screwed up in pain and he moaned, "Ow, ow, ow! Man, that smarted!"
Freed from the riding crop's control, Myka forced herself to her feet and staggered over to where the riding crop had landed and snatched it up.
"Dude! Gun!" Tyler exclaimed urgently from where he was strapped to the chair in front of the chess set.
Myka lifted the riding crop, ready to give Sykes a taste of his own medicine, but before she could lock eyes on him and gain control of his body, Pete slammed his elbow into Sykes' face and grabbed the gun, tossing it to the other side of the room before he collapsed onto the dirt floor once again.
"Would it be in bad taste to go for a high five?" Pete asked, rolling his head towards Myka. "Cause, differently-abled or not, this guy's an ass-hole," Pete sing-songed as he stuck his hand up into the air. "Don't leave me hanging."
"Never," Myka said smiling as she crossed the short distance between them and slapped her hand against Pete's before offering him her hand and helping him to his feet.
"So, now what?" Pete asked, glancing down as Sykes moaned and started to blink his way back to consciousness.
"Could you get me out of here?" Tyler piped up from the left.
"Yeah," Myka breathed out, turning to look at the young hacker, offering him a hopefully comforting smile before she looked back over at Pete. "You got him?" she asked, nodding her head towards Sykes.
"Oh yeah, Doctor Claw's locked down," Pete said as he drew his Tesla and pointed it at Sykes. "Go check on your girl."
"She's not my girl," Myka muttered, though even as she spoke she was fighting the urge to smile.
"Fine, sorry. Your lady," Pete amended in a frou-frou voice as he waved his hand in front of him grandly, and for the first time since waking up on the plane, Myka smiled and it reached her eyes.
"Hey," Myka said smiling, gently brushing a few strands of dark hair off of Helena's face as the author's eyes began to flutter open.
"Myka," Helena breathed out, her lips unconsciously curving up into a bright smile as she gazed up into the agents beautiful face. "You're bleeding," she murmured with concern a second later, her brows scrunching in the most adorable way as her hand lifted to Myka's temple.
Being knocked down by Pete had opened up the wound she'd received in the woods earlier that day and she had started to bleed again, though not much.
"It's nothing," Myka said, capturing Helena's hand, holding it tightly in her own, luxuriating in just being able to touch her for a few seconds before she made herself use their joined hands to begin helping Helena up. "A minor war wound."
"What happened?" Helena asked, lifting her hand to press her palm against her forehead in a useless attempt to chase away the aching in the skull. "Did we win?"
Myka laughed softly and murmured, "Almost. Soon," before she cupped Helena's jaw in her hand and ran her thumb over cheek reverently, deliciating in the feel of Helena's skin, in the warmth, and the softness, and the very fact that it was there, that Helena was there for her to touch.
Myka knew that it wasn't really the place or the time, but in the first time through all of this she had missed out on the chance to kiss Helena again and she had no intention of making the same mistake twice. So, heedless of the others in the sanctum, Myka stroked Helena's cheek once more and then leaned forward and brought their lips together.
"I should fall mysteriously unconscious more often," Helena whispered, the corner of her lip turning up in delight, when Myka pulled back from her.
"You have a chess game to win first," Myka responded with a smirk, desperately wanting to lean forward and kiss Helena again, but knowing that they really had more important things to attend to before she could really show Helena how much she had missed her, and that she truly did forgive her.
"Oh," Helena gasped, turning her head to the side to find Tyler staring at them, "Right. About that ..." Helena went on, a look of concern overtaking her features. "I'm not actually certain that I know how to do that."
"That's okay," Myka replied, offering Helena her hand and helping her to her feet, "I sure, and I know you better than anyone else, remember?"
"I'm never going to live that down am I?" Helena asked a bit bashfully, though there was a smile on her lips as she looked up at Myka coyly through her lashes.
"No," Myka said smiling as she shook her head from side to side, sounding and looking absolutely delighted. "No take backs," she added and Helena's smile grew.
"Well then, Agent Bering," Helena drawled, holding Myka's eyes intimately with her own. "Please enlighten me. How exactly do I go about defeating this dastardly game?"
"Elementary my dear, Wells," Myka said grinning. "You think outside the box."
Myka wasn't sure what it said about her life, but the sight of Jane coming through the portal with a hatchet resting on her shoulder was oddly comforting.
Sykes was in no mood to talk, but once Washington's hatchet began to work its magic, the truth flowed from his lips like fine wine from a decanter, and the bomb that had destroyed the Warehouse and taken the life of H.G. Wells in the original time-line, ceased to be.
By the time Mrs. Fredericks, Leena, Claudia and Trailer made it back to the Warehouse from the B&B, Walter Sykes was in bronze, the artifact that Sykes had used to turn his wheelchair into a weapon had been catalogued and safely stored away in the Dark vault, and Pete had eaten two frozen dinners and piece of pie as he, Myka and Helena debriefed Jane on the events that had taken place in the sanctum.
Claudia disappeared from sight soon after arriving and Leena went in search of her, Mrs. Fredericks led Artie and Jane away for a secret Boss-People conversation, and Pete decided that it was time for him to take a well earned nap, which eventually led to Myka and Helena being gloriously alone.
"I have something for you," Myka said softly once Pete was out of sight.
"You already saved my life," Helena replied smiling faintly, "How could I possibly now accept a gift? It would be positively gluttonous."
"Saving you wasn't an entirely altruistic act," Myka admitted softly, ducking her head down shyly as she spoke causing the dark cape of her hair to momentarily obscure her features. "And well, I'm more returning than gifting," she continued, reaching into her pants pocket to pull out Helena's locket. "I thought you'd want this back."
"Thank you," Helena breathed out, her hand automatically lifting to touch the patch of skin between her breasts where the locket usually lay before she reached out and gently took it from Myka's hand. "I thought that ..." she paused, breathing in deeply, blinking rapidly against the tears forming in her eyes. "Thank you."
"I know how much it means to you," Myka murmured softly. "Would you like me to ...?" she went on, glancing down at the locket and then gesturing at Helena's neck.
"Please," Helena said softly, handing the locket back to Myka before turning her back to her so that Myka could more easily drape the chain around her neck. "And ..." Helena continued, turning around to face Myka once again when the necklace was in place around her, "the locket isn't the only thing here that means the world to me," she whispered, reaching out to take Myka's hand into her own, "Please tell me you know that."
Myka's lips curved up in a sweet smile and gazing at Helena with an impossibly tender look in her eyes, she whispered, "I know," and Helena breathed out a sigh of relief and contentment before she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Myka's.
"I can't tell you how happy I am to be able to do that again," Helena murmured against Myka's lips, needing to stay close to the Secret Service agent even though the kiss had broken. "Being incorporeal was really very inconvenient. Do you have any idea how horrifying it is for a lady to be unable to change her outfit for a year? I used to change clothes four times a day!"
"I'm rather delighted to have you back in the flesh again, too," Myka breathed out before closing the scant distance between their lips and kissing Helena once more. "Such extraordinary flesh," Myka sighed into Helena's mouth, making the Brit laugh softly. "Wait," Myka exhaled a little breathlessly, finally pulling back from Helena's lips. "Four times?" she questioned incredulously.
Victorian clothing looked lovely, and truth be told, Myka had longed for quite some time to see Helena some of her old fancy dress clothes, but she was very happy to be a modern woman who could wear pants without shame and go through the whole day in one outfit.
"There was, of course, my regular day wear, which often had to be traded in for my 'special work attire'," Helena replied grinning. "After six it was imperative that one dress for the evening, and then when the stars twinkled in the night's inky embrace and the moon hung heavy in the sky, it was time to dress for bed," Helena breathed out suggestively.
"Considering how you went to bed at the B&B, I'd say you should downgrade that count to three times a day," Myka replied, biting down on her bottom lip. "I don't think your birthday suit counts as an outfit."
"I don't remember you complaining about my European sensibilities in the past," Helena drawled, looking up at Myka coquettishly as she toyed with the ends of Myka's black leather jacket.
"I don't plan on complaining about them in the future either," Myka responded reaching for one of Helena's hands, playing with her fingers for a moment before she twined their fingers together.
"The future ..." Helena whispered, looking up at Myka with a tentatively hopeful expression on her face.
"Mm," Myka hummed, rubbing the back of Helena's hand with her thumb. "I know the answer to your question now."
"And what question might that be?" Helena breathed out distractedly.
She was preoccupied in the most pleasant manner by how Myka was touching her hand.
"In the woods, you asked me how you say goodbye to the one person who knows you better than anyone else," Myka related. "The answer is ... you don't."
"I ..." Helena began before pausing as her eyes scanned Myka's exquisite face, "I rather like that," she whispered, and then she gave into the desire that had been steadily building within her throughout their conversation and drew Myka into a kiss that was far more heated than the comforting, reaffirming kisses they had shared since Helena had awoken in the sanctum.
"What is it?" Myka panted, cupping Helena's cheek with her hand when the raven-haired beauty suddenly pulled away from her lips.
"I ..." Helena paused as a beatific smile spread across her lips. "I smell apples," she breathed out a moment later, still smiling brightly as she met Myka's eyes. "I think the Warehouse approves of us."
"Oh good," Myka murmured playfully, nuzzling Helena's cheek with her nose. "I would have hated sneaking around behind its back."
"Would it have suspected subterfuge if you'd told it you were 'studying late at the library'?" Helena laughed before sighing softly as Myka's lips trailed kisses down her throat.
"Probably not," Myka murmured before her tongue peaked out to taste Helena's skin. "I like books."
"Methinks you like author's as well," Helena replied saucily.
Myka smiled against the column of her throat and then nipped at it playfully before she lifted her head so that she could capture Helena's lips in a kiss.
Their lives weren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination. There were still dangerous artifacts out there that needed to be snagged, bagged and tagged. The Warehouse might have been safe for the moment, but they had lost a colleague and a friend doing battle against Sykes. The Council of Regents was still severely undermanned and in Myka's opinion remained more than a little shady. And thought she was wonderfully, gloriously alive, Helena's status was with the Regents was undetermined and therefore a source of concern.
So no, their lives weren't perfect. But, the Warehouse was whole and strong and there. Sykes was bronzed and no longer a threat to anyone. And Helena ... Helena was alive. She was warm and solid and in Myka's arms and that was beautiful and something to rejoice.
After so long, alone and cold, she and Helena were together again, they were in love, the air smelt of apples, and if Jane or Adwin or anyone else had a problem with that Myka vowed that they would learn the power of a nerd in love. She had a healthy, perhaps overly healthy, respect for authority, but Myka had learned that sometimes it was necessary rebel. She had learned that sometimes it was necessary to fight, and she would fight for Helena. They had just found each other again. They had finally made peace with the ghosts of their past, and anything or anyone that tried to get in the way of their future would learn the dangers of trying to keep a geek with a Tesla away from the beautiful mind she loved.