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| This is goodbye; Myka centric (Myka/Pete-ish) | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 25 2010, 06:45 AM (410 Views) | |
| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:45 AM Post #1 |
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This is goodbye Chapter 1 Reality and fantasy are swirling around her in horrid, vivid colors. She can no longer distinguish hallucination from truth. In that one moment, everything seems so real. Silently, she berates herself, for her inability to keep her grip. She, always the logical one, Myka- by-the-book- Bering. She, (according to Pete), who had 'no imagination what. so. ever.' She ought to have known better. She, of all people, ought to have been able to keep one foot firmly planted on the ground. But.. it's.. Sam. Even though she is sanding there, absolutely horror struck, screaming at him to leave her alone, something in her doesn't want Sam to be gone. Something lights up inside of her when she sees him living, breathing, standing right infront of her. Some part of her doesn't want to let Sam go. Sam knows it too, he is smiling smugly at her. Hurling accusations at her. "You were late" Was I? "You killed me." I'm sorry , Sam "Sorry won't bring me back." Sam is angry. Sam is out for blood. And still, she doesn't' want Sam to leave. It feels right, it feels just. That she has to make her atonement. Let Sam have his moment. Let Sam take her life. A life for a life. What did it really matter? But there is something in her that just can't lay down and die. A little voice inside her, telling her it- Wasn't. Her. Fault. A strong, firm, voice telling her to fight. She feels it grasp hold of her, not willing to let her go under, to let her drown in self pity and self loathing, to be crushed under the excruciating weight of guilt. It's Pete's voice. Calling her name. And it's the one and only thing that is holding her together. Earlier that morning... "Did I do something?" Pete asked her, and at first he sounded sincere. She turned away from him, refusing to answer. She had never been very good at the silent treatment, but she was stubborn, and she was determined not to let him win. "Give me a break, Myka, just tell me what I did." She kept up the facade of cold indifference. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his wounded puppy dog face. It was almost enough to melt her. Almost enough to make her turn to him and smile. Almost enough to make her turn to him and hug him as she did that moment she realized she was free and no longer trapped inside the looking glass. But she held firm to her stubborn resentment. She turned her head and asked Claudia to pass the salt. "Whatever it is, I'm sorry, ok?" He told her. He was being a little too nice to her. They all were after the fiasco with the mirror. And so they should be. "How can you be sorry if you don' t even know what you did!" She demanded angrily in return. She isn't so much angry at Pete now, she is angry at herself for breaking her vow of silence. Angry at herself that she let Pete get under her skin. He was supposed to be her partner. He hadn't even realized that 'Alice' had taken her place. He probably never would have if not for Artie. She could have been trapped for eternity inside that looking glass, and Pete Lattimer would never have noticed, much less cared. She felt let down, betrayed, and yes, angry. But she didn't dare tell him any of that aloud. Didn't tell him that she still couldn't sleep at night, she was still afraid this life was all a dream, and when she woke up she would still be sitting there, inside that looking glass, cross legged in defeat, looking up at Artie, pleading with him to see her, to believe in her, to set her free. And Artie, turning a cold deaf ear. Artie insisting 'The real Myka is in Las Vegas with Pete. Surely Pete would know if Myka wasn't with him.' And so she was afraid, exhausted, even a little hurt. And all of this somehow manifested itself in anger towards Pete. And somehow, it made her feel slightly better. "Whoa!" Pete exclaimed, raising his hands to surrender. "Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed thismorning." He turned to Claudia, who was thoroughly entertained by the bickering. He whispered, but deliberately loud enough for Myka to hear him "Are you sure that's the real Myka, and not the crazy chick from the mirror?" He regretted his joke almost immediately, when Claudia only looked to him in stunned silence. Ok, bad move, he thought to himself. But he had not been expecting Myka to pick up her plate, and smash it to pieces right over his head. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:45 AM Post #2 |
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Chapter 2 Her gun is aimed straight at Sam's head. Sam's weapon is aimed at her. He is smiling at her, challenging her. But this is a war she knows she can not win. She lowers her weapon sadly in defeat. She simply can not bring herself to kill him a second time. She closes her eyes. She waits for him to pull the trigger. She longs for it to be over. But, of course, nothing happens. Sam isn't real. He is a figment of her imagination. He can't kill her. He can't even touch her. Sam isn't going to be the one to save her. She feels bitter tears stinging her eyes. None of this is real, she tells herself. None of it, except the gun in her own hand. This, she is fairly certain, is real enough. The metal is cool against her skin. She tightens her grip. It feels safe, familiar. Slowly, but deliberately, she lifts the gun to her own head. There is one sure fire way to end all of this. Sam can't do it for her, she sees this much now, but she can. She must. She understands it now, the power of hallucination to push someone over the edge. She knows Sam isn't real. But the guilt, the shame, that's real. Too real. It's eating her alive. She has to make it stop. She hears the voice again, Pete's voice, so close to her, telling her not to be afraid. She can feel his breath against her own skin. It's almost enough to make her stop. But it's too late. There is no turning back now. Her finger is compelled to pull that trigger. Everything happens in horrifying slow motion from that point onwards. Pete screams. He screams her name. He screams "No!" She turns. Sam is gone. But Pete is there, right beside her, always right beside her. Pete is wrestling the gun from her, he is still screaming. There is fear in his eyes. A fear she has never seen on him. He is terrified, even as he is telling her not to be afraid. Her hands are shaking. It's all happening too quickly, and too slowly, all at the same time. It's confusing, frightening, surreal. And then, the horrifying sound of the shot being fired. The surprised and wounded cry from Pete Lattimer's lips. The heavy dull thud as he crashes to the ground. And blood, Pete's blood, spilling out over the cold prison floor. Earlier that morning... Myka walked as far from the warehouse as she dared. Far away from the scrutinizing eyes of the others at the table. She could already imagine Pete and Claudia telling Artie that she lost the plot. That she, unprovoked, had smashed a plate over Pete's head. She could already feel Artie's disappointment weighing her down. She meant the things she said to him in that mirror. She thought Artie was great, and somehow it was important to her that he reciprocated her feelings. It occurred to her in that moment, as she walked alone, fatigued, and mightily hungry, that Artie reminded her of her father. Or rather, that Artie reminded her of the vision of a father she always wished she had. Someone who looked to her, saw her potential. Someone who cared about her in his own way. Even though Artie lied to her (by omission) on a daily basis, and even though it made her blood boil, she could understand on some level, he did it for her own good. A misguided and unnecessary desire to protect her. Somehow, Artie made her feel something she didn't remember ever feeling before- safe. She had been angry at him when she found out about his past. She had been hurt. But she would have got over it. But sitting there, trapped inside that mirror, pleading with him to see her. The way he had coldly turned his back, that left scars she wasn't certain would ever heal. Sure he saved her in the end. But was that enough? It was Claudia and Leena who went to bat for her. If it was left to Artie and Pete- she would still be there, for all eternity, neither of them knowing the difference. She was simply that insignificant to them both. And that hurt like hell. That cut her deeply on levels she could never begin to explain to either one of them. Why was is so hard for either of them to really see her? Claudia had recognized her straight away. Claudia had seen her, seen that trapped expression on her face. Claudia never had a single doubt. Neither had Leena. But Artie, he just couldn't see it. She told him she felt sorry for him. That he was so blind to the things right in front of his face. But those were brave words, nothing more. What she felt in that moment was completely, utterly, unforgivably, betrayed. What she felt in that moment was invisible. The feeling was not strange to her. Her entire life she had lived under the weight of invisibility. Knowing she was a disappointment by her very existence, the very fact she was not the son her father always wanted. He never let her forget it. That she was not enough, no matter what she did, never enough. That she wasn't wanted. That she wasn't valued. That she just didn't matter. And all the while she sat there, cross legged and defiant, like an angry child. She told Artie she needed to know that she mattered. But she knew already, deep down, that she just didn't matter enough. Not to her father, not to Pete, not to Artie. If she mattered, he would have seen her straight away. He wouldn't have stood there, physically restraining Claudia, as if he was afraid of her, as if she was going to hurt him somehow. "That thing" Artie called her. Looked right into her eyes and didn't even see her as a human being. And what about Pete? Her so called partner? His fantastic 'intuition?" Did he not have the slightest inkling that something had been off? Did he not know her at all? Was she that replaceable in his eyes? And how could she ever trust him again? How could she trust either of them? Sure, they saved her in the end. And relief got the better of her, she hugged them and thanked them as if it was all behind them, as if they could sweep it all under the rug, as if it just didn't matter. But, it still stung like hell. She still woke in a cold sweat, dreaming of being trapped, isolated, for eternity. And what's worse, never even missed. She still got up in the middle of the night, quietly making her way to the dresser, staring at herself in that mirror, wondering if she was even real? Wondering if that other Myka, the one staring back at her, might have done a better job of living. Maybe that reflection of herself might not have fucked things up so totally. Maybe that's the thing that was wrong with her, the thing that made it hard to breathe, the thing that drove her from her sleep night after night as she woke up gasping for air...she wondered if she even deserved to be free. Perhaps it would have been better all around if she never got out of that mirror? |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:46 AM Post #3 |
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Chapter 3 There is that that moment, fleeting yet horrifying, when she thinks Pete is dead. When she thinks she has killed him. Just like she killed Sam. But Pete is there, wriggling on the floor, gasping for air, trying hard to call her name. She panics. Suddenly she is aware of the mayhem that has been going on all around her. The banging and screaming of prison riots. How had she been so oblivious to the chaos around her? She wants to run. Badly. To run and hide and banish every last memory of this, of him. But there is Pete. He's hurt. She hurt him. He is calling her name, in a hoarse weak whisper. "Myka. Myka, look at me." He is ordering her. She kneels beside him, but she won't let herself look him in the eyes. Instead she focuses on the wound, she tries to stop the bleeding. "I'm sorry." She tells him, over and over. "Myka." He is still calling her name, "Listen to me." But she isn't listening, she is only repeating over and over "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The wound seems superficial to her, the blood flow is stopping. She hears the sirens, the approaching footsteps of police, of paramedics. She tries to stand to her feet, but before she can get there, Pete's arm is grasping her wrist. She looks down to her own hand, horrified to find it stained with blood, Pete's blood. He is weak, and it isn't hard for her to free herself from his grasp. "Don't leave me." Pete manages to say. For a moment she looks into his eyes. She is frozen by the warmth in his gaze, the compassion, the familiarity. She asks herself how she could have even been so angry with him? She asks herself how she could have shot him? She looks at him, in that moment, he is vulnerable, weak, afraid. It's a whole new side to Pete, something she has rarely seen before. He is begging her not to leave, but he just doesn't understand. She is poison. She did this to him. He deserves so much better. Letting self hatred once again cloud her judgement, she snaps away from his grasp and his gaze. Suddenly, the paramedics are upon them, surrounding Pete, asking her to explain what happened. "He was shot." She tells them in a shaky voice. How else can she explain it? How could she ever justify it, to Pete, to Artie, to herself? One of the paramedics turns to her, "Don't worry ma'am, he'll be just fine." To Myka, that seems like permission to leave. Pete will be just fine without her, hell she was the one who shot him, Pete will be better off without her. She nods at the tall paramedic, and turns to leave. As she heads down the cold dismal prison corridors, towards the exit, she starts running. Faster and faster until she is outside, until she can breathe again. But it feels like she isn't getting anywhere, it feels like that corridor goes on for ever, like she will never get out. She feels, once again, trapped. And as she listens to the rhythmic sound of her footsteps across the cold stone floor, she thinks she hears Pete's voice, echoing down that corridor, calling after her. She thinks to herself that she better get used to it, because every time she closes her eyes she just knows she will hear him, haunting her, calling to her, in the stillness of the night. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:47 AM Post #4 |
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Chapter 4 The injury had been serious enough. Myka knew this by the fact she had seen Artie and Claudia in the hospital corridors. It must be bad, to cause them both to leave the warehouse unattended. Arite didn't fly half way across the country for just any minor mishap. Myka holds her breath as they pass by her hiding in the stairwell, and silently she follows after them. She eavesdrops unashamedly at the doorway as the conversation unfolds inside Pete's hospital room. "Did you find Myka?" Pete asks. Artie ignores the question "I need you to tell me what really happened Pete." He insists. "I told you, I don't remember anything." Pete answers wearily. "Really? That's interesting. Because there is an eyewitness report that you were shot by your female partner." Artie informs him. "Myka shot you? No way man." That was Claudia's input. Myka couldn't see through the walls, but she envisioned the way Artie silenced the girl with a look. "Explain to me everything that happened." Artie demanded. "He got shot by a girl! That's what happened." Claudia announced playfully. That Pete made no comeback to the girl's teasing, Myka took as a bad sign. "It was an accident." Pete told them both. That doesn't really make any difference, Myka thinks to herself. Her life was full of accidents. First Sam, now Pete. She turned everything she touched to ashes. The people she cared about were simply better off without her around. "No one is saying it wasn't an accident." Artie answers. "Though she was pretty mad at you this morning." Claudia reminds him. "She smashed a plate over your head, remember. You never told us what you did to piss her off by the way." "That is not helpful, Claudia." Artie points out, cutting Claudia off, trying hard not to lose his temper with the girl. Myka can't see it, but she knows those little veins are popping up in his head. She knows there is a playful smile on Claudia's face, as she tries to make light of the situation. Though Myka also knows if she were to look deep enough into the girls stare, those eyes would betray her. She knows it's just Claudia's way of dealing with a stressful situation. "Sor-ry." Claudia answers, before turning to Pete, "So, where is Myka?" "Claudia!" Artie reprimanded the girl again. It was his place to ask the questions. Insolent girl, always thinking she knew better than him. And yet, it was a valid question. "So?" Artie repeated "Where is Myka?" "I told you, I don't know." Pete answered. "You don't know?" Artie tries to understand. '"I lost consciousness, when I woke up, Myka was gone." He explains. "I feel like I'm missing a vital piece of the puzzle here." Artie interjects. Pete is losing his cool now, Myka can tell from the tone of his voice. He has had enough of questions, of trying to explain her conduct, to answer for her actions, to make sense of the fact that she disappeared and left him injured and bleeding and alone. "I told you everything. Mayhem, chaos, hallucinations, crazy storm, bullets flying everywhere, accidently shot, Myka gone, the end." It doesn't escape Myka's notice that Pete has deliberately left parts out of the story. The part where she was hallucinating about Sam, the part where she held the gun to her own head and tried to pull the trigger, the part where Pete saved her, wrestling the gun away from her and getting himself shot in the process. She wants to hug Pete in that moment, for keeping her shameful secret. For allowing her to keep some small amount of dignity in Artie's eyes. "You don't think...that mirror, did something to her?' Claudia muses. This time there isn't a trace of joking in the young girls voice. This time she is dead serious. This time she sounds afraid. Myka had to stifle the laughter welling up in her throat. No Claudia, she wants to tell the girl. The mirror did nothing to me. This is me, this is who I am, who I've always been. Maybe you never realized it before, that's all. "Claudia!" Artie reprimands her again, louder this time. It causes Claudia and Myka both to jump in fright. "So she just left?" Artie is asking again. "I told you already, yes she left." "Of her own free will? Are you sure she wasn't kidnapped?" Artie asks. "No, she left of her own free will, but I'm not sure that she is thinking very clearly, those hallucinations..." "The hallucinations should resolve completely away from the prison." Artie dismissed Pete immediately. "I know that, but I think she saw something...something that has some kind of hold on her." Pete answers. "You really should stop wasting time asking me questions that I already answered a thousand times, and go find Myka." "You're worried about her." Claudia says, and it's almost an accusation, as if it's some kind of crime for him to care about Myka. "Am not." He answers defensively. "She shot me, she can take care of herself." Pete's words aren't cruel, they are playful, teasing, and Myka tries to tell herself that he is only defending himself against Claudia's teasing. That it has threatened his manhood, being shot by a girl, by his very own partner, letting Claudia rub it in his face. That above all, Pete is embarrassed by this whole thing. That he has been sucked into this playful game with Claudia, that he has to appear tough. That he doesn't really mean that he doesn't care about her. She tries hard to believe it. But Pete's words cut right through her. Why should any of them care about her now? She shot Pete. She could have killed him. "Enough." Artie silences them both. To Pete he says "Don't worry about Myka... But Myka has already turned, once again she is running away. She doesn't hear the rest of Artie's sentence. All she hears is those words, Don't worry about Myka, and she realizes that she simply doesn't matter to anyone anymore. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:48 AM Post #5 |
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Chapter 5 Myka is not naïve enough to believe she can hide from Artie. What she is counting on is the fact that Artie wont be bothered looking for her. That he will be busy with the warehouse, with finding her replacement. That he considers her just not worth the effort anymore. Besides, Artie doesn't like to make a scene. She has always had the ability to make him uncomfortable in a confrontation. Never more so than that day in the mirror, telling him the things on her heart, the things they both knew but never spoke of. Telling him how much she admired and respected him, how much she craved his admiration in return. She saw the extreme discomfort in his eyes that day. It's not like he is going to come after her for any answers, for explanations. Not like Pete. She thinks back to her impossible wish the first day in the warehouse. Her simple yet desperate wish. To go home. To get the hell away from that crazy warehouse. To have her life back. Not such an 'impossible' wish, as it happens. She wonders in that moment if Pete-the-ferret has vanished in a puff of smoke because of it. That thought is profoundly unsettling and twists her heart into knots. Because if she is going to lose everything, her job, her very identity, her partner, her home, her family- she should at least get to keep that ferret. Somehow, the thought of losing him makes her feel more alone than anything else. Because he, that stupid creature, is the only one that won't be looking to her with judgement, or worse, with disappointment. He accepts her as she is. He won't turn on her, no matter what. And as long as she keeps feeding him, she matters to him, she is the most important person in the world to him, and that thought is enticing to her. Almost enticing enough to make her consider going back to the warehouse to get him. Almost, but not quite. Even after all of this, Myka is still some semblance of the person she has always been. By the book. The thought of fleeing in disgrace fills her with unrest. There is a proper way to do things, and she will do it. She will simply take Artie out of the equation, that's all. They will both be more comfortable that way. She will find some way of contacting Mrs Frederic. Preferably in writing, and not face to face. She will resign and that will be the end of it. Nice and neat. A pleasing result to everyone concerned. As she sits in an obscure diner, in the middle of nowhere, not even certain any-more which state she is currently in, she thinks back to her first day at the warehouse. She wonders how things got so upside down. How in a relatively short space of time it has come to feel like her heart is being ripped out of her chest at the thought of not being part of the warehouse, the team. How the place transformed from a jail to a home. How the people around her became family. It took her long enough to realise it, her own family never provided her with an appropriate example. But family, and home, is what she considers she had fleetingly possessed. Nothing should surprise her any longer, yet she still jumps out of her skin when she is startled from her self pitying thoughts by the voice behind her. "Agent Bering." Mrs Frederic greets her. Almost as if she had been reading Myka's mind. Almost as if she had been waiting for here, right here in the middle of no place. "Mrs Frederic." Is all Myka can manage to stumble "I was just...Actually..." "May I sit?" Mrs Frederic asks. The woman has a gentle yet commanding presence that it is impossible to argue with. Myka nods in acknowledgement. After a minute of silence, Myka looks to the other woman across the table questioningly, waiting for her to speak. "You were the one who wanted to discuss something with me, I believe." Mrs Frederic prompts her. "How did you know that?" Myka asks, before shaking her head quickly "Never mind, I don't want to know." "Well then, I'm a very busy woman." "Of course." Myka stumbles. She is nervous of the other woman, undoubtedly. But this professional, formal, and slightly intimidating exchange is still preferable in her mind to a confrontation with Artie. "I think we all agree it is best for all concerned if I leave the warehouse." Mrs Frederic sighs wearily. "I felt certain I had made myself perfectly clear on that matter from the start. This is not a voluntary assignment. You work for me now, for the warehouse, this is not negotiable." "You don't understand, I am leaving the secret service all together." "I am afraid that is not acceptable either. There are security considerations, you must understand, you can not just up and leave when the fancy takes you." "You really don't understand, I'm not capable of doing my job, I'm a danger to the people I work with, a hazard to the warehouse itself." It pained Myka to admit it, filled her with failure and shame and dread. But it was the truth. The simple, horrible truth. She lost her mind totally, on the job. Pete almost died because of it. Mrs Frederic would have to listen to that. "I'm certain Arthur would inform me if that were the case." Mrs Frederic answers confidently. "I'm certain he will." Myka answers back. "Until that time then, I'll be expecting you to do the job assigned to you." Mrs Frederic stands to leave, feeling that the matter has been made perfectly clear. "Wait.." Myka calls out. But she can not bring herself to tell the story, the vision of Sam, shooting Pete. She can not bring herself to let this woman into her deepest darkest thoughts. Mrs Frederic looks at her for a moment, a flicker in time. Looks right through her. It makes Myka feel exposed. She finds it a different kind of torment to the feeling of invisibility. Something equally unsettling. And then, Mrs Frederics gaze shifts, to something over the top of Myka's head. "Well, speak of the devil." Mrs Frederic utters, and Myka doesn't have to look over her shoulder to know that Artie is standing right behind her. Earlier that morning Pete snuck up on her silently in her solitude that morning. The remnants of breakfast still matted to his hair, hot angry tears still stinging her eyes. If looks could kill, he would have been dead on the spot. She would have killed him with her bare hands for one snide remark in that moment. "We've got a case, unexplained suicides in a prison, we haven't got all day, are you coming?" He said casually. She could have kissed him right there, for his 'business as usual' attitude. Yet, it alarmed her on some level, this "nice" Pete who didn't taunt her relentlessly or snap at her or bicker with her. Did he think of her as too fragile? Too unstable? In a way that scared her more than the moment when she had lost her cool and smashed her plate over his head. She had to bring it back to something more natural, more normal. "I'm not going anywhere with you until you take a shower." She told him, as she flicked the pieces of breakfast from his hair. She forced a slight smile onto her face and blinked back the tears hoping that he hadn't noticed. "Oh, well whose fault is that?" He answered playfully. "I'm driving." She told him as she snatched the keys from him. "I don't think so, we wanna get there before Christmas." He remarked, earning him a playful punch in the arm. And just like that, things were back to normal. Just like that he was her Pete again. And she was struck suddenly by the knowledge that she could never stand to lose what they had. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:48 AM Post #6 |
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Chapter 6 Thing is, it wasn't hard to find her. Finding her had been the easiest part of all, as it turned out. The difficult thing had been to approach her. Artie had seen something in her eyes as he watched from the shadows. Desperation, disappointment, darkness. He had heard something catch in Pete's voice as he told only part of the story. It makes him feel like he doesn't really want to know. All he wants is things to go back to normal. And he hasn't the first idea how to make that happen. He feels, for the first time in a long time, utterly helpless, and that feeling does not sit well with him. That's why he had watched her for hours before he had approached her. And only then because he had caught Mrs Frederic's eye. "I'll leave you to it." Mrs Frederic is quick to make her exit, leaving him lost and fumbling, trying hard to maintain a confident veneer. She takes the pressure off him by speaking first, coming straight to the point. "I can't work for you anymore, I think we both know that." She tells him matter of factly. "We do?" He asks. "I shot Pete." She informs him needlessly. "Would you like to tell me about that? Pete was a little fuzzy on the details..." Artie answers. "Details don't really matter." "Pete is fine, by the way." Artie tells her. And he sees something flicker in her eyes at his words. But she gains her composure quickly. "This time." She adds. "Are you planning on shooting at him again?" Artie asks. He is trying to make light of it somehow, as if they can laugh it all off and things will be suddenly back to normal. "What is your problem? This isn't a joke." Myka reprimands him. "My problem is that I am very confused." He admits. "Let me simplify it for you, Artie. I do not want to be part of this anymore." He sighs, shaking his head slightly. "That is not new, Myka, that is the same old song you've been singing from day one. Get over it." This is not entirely true. Artie had come to believe that both she and Pete were happy and fulfilled at the warehouse. But he is trying desperately hard to remain confident. It was always the upper hand he had with Myka. He knew so much more than she, he saw the big picture. She might not have been sure about or happy about her appointment at the warehouse, be he was certain about it. That would have to be enough for them both. "What's the big deal, agents come and go right? What does it matter to you? Find someone else." She insists. Artie can not find an answer to her question. Try as he might the words get lost in his throat. Yes, people come and go. Yes he has lost many agents. Too damn many. Each one significant in their own way. But what he has right now, Claudia, Leena, Pete, Myka, it's different. What they have, what they share, it means something more to him. But he is not able to articulate it. "This isn't open for discussion." He tells her calmly. "You are part of my team, end of story." "I shot Pete! I nearly killed him!" Myka is yelling now, standing to her feet, towering over him. "He'll get over it." Artie remarks. And he really believes it. Pete doesn't seem to harbour any ill will towards Myka about whatever happened in that jail that lead to him getting shot, to her taking off and leaving him for dead. "There is no trust, no cohesion, in this team anymore. How can he trust me, how can you? It's dangerous." Artie only shrugs. "These things happen in our line of work. I really think you're making far too much out of this." "That's your answer is it? Oh well, these things happen, just forget the whole thing?" She demands to know. And for unexplainable, indefinable reasons, she sits back down opposite him. "What is it that you want me to say, Myka?" He asks. What she wants is for him to make it easy for her. To tell her in no uncertain terms that she let them all down, that she isn't capable of doing her job. That she has to go. And she doesn't understand why he doesn't just do it and get it over with. "Nothing, Artie, there is nothing I want you to say." She answers finally. Awkward silence ensues. She taps her fingers nervously on the table top. He folds his arms, sitting back in his chair, waiting. Asking himself why she is being so obstinate. She doesn't want to tell him what happened, she doesn't want him to sweep it all under the rug, and he can't quite make any sense of it. All she seems to be asking for is to get the hell out of there, and he just can't let him self believe that she really truly wants that. "I don't trust you." She tells him quietly, refusing to look him in the eyes. "That's not new either." He answers tiredly. "I don't trust Pete." She adds softly. "The two of you didn't even notice the difference between me and that thing. I can see how valued I am as part of the team. And you, you're the worst, you looked right at me, right through me, and refused to acknowledge me. Claudia tried to tell you, Leena tried, I tried. It meant nothing to you. If it was left to you and Pete, I'd still be there, do you realise that? You, Artie, have broken my trust, and it can't rectified. Ever. I can't work with either of you anymore. That's all there is to it." "I saved you." He offers feebly in his own defence. Remembering how happy he had been to see her, how she had thrown herself into his arms. How he had apologised, how he had thought he was getting somewhere. "It was your fault I was trapped in there in the first place. I never asked for this assignment. I never asked to be stuck at that warehouse. I don't want to be part of this, I never did. You can't play God, Artie. This is my life, I want it back." She doesn't entirely mean those words. While she had been hurt and angry at the two of them, that had been long since overshadowed with her own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. But hurling accusations at him seemed the best way to get him to back off, to get him to let her go. She doesn't really mean that she wants her life back, because she is now incapable of imagining her life outside the warehouse, away from Pete, it's out of the realms of her comprehension. Yet there was a time she felt that way, there was a part of her still angry, still hurt about the mirror, and there was a desperate darkness in her eyes that tinged the words, making her performance powerful and convincing. "I know that I let you down, and I am unbelievably sorry." Artie tells her. She can't stand the sadness in his voice, the sincerity, the compassion. It's almost enough to break her. And she refuses to break down in front of him. She needs to stay angry, she needs to stay in control. "Sorry isn't enough." She tells him coldly, and it takes everything in her to look him in the eyes in that moment, fire blazing in her own eyes. Righteous anger and indignation and betrayal. She knows she needs to convince him that she is angry at him, that she blames him, that she doesn't trust him anymore. That he feels bad about the situation, she has no doubt, and she feels momentarily bad using his on guilt against him. But it has to be done. There is no other way. "I'm sorry all the same." He tells her. He stands to his feet, conceding defeat. "If leaving is what you want..."He begins "It is." She cuts him off before she can lose her nerve. Before the tears start falling and she can't fight off that overwhelming urge to take back her words. To tell him she is sorry, that she didn't mean it. "Very well then." He answers. He stops still, opens his mouth, as if he is about to say something. As if he is trying to find a way to turn back the conversation. But there is simply nothing left to say. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:49 AM Post #7 |
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Chapter 7 Artie reluctantly returns to the hospital later that night. He knows that he doesn't have the answers that will satisfy Claudia or Pete. He doesn't quite know how to tell them that Myka isn't coming back. That Myka doesn't want to come back. That the reason Myka doesn't want to come back is his fault. Besides, it's not his responsibility to break that news to Pete or Claudia. If Myka wants out she can tell them so herself. And so, not uncharacteristically, he is deliberately vague and succinct in his account of his meeting with Myka. "Did you find Myka?" Pete asks the minute Artie has reappeared in the hospital room. "Yes, yes Pete, I did." Artie answers. He gives little else away. "And?" Pete and Claudia ask in unison. "She's fine. I told you, don't worry about Myka." Artie assures them. "Where is she?" Pete wants to know. What he really wants to know is- Why isn't she here? Why did she take off leaving me in the hospital without so much as a word. But he can't quite bring himself to say that aloud. "She just needs some time." Artie tells them both vaguely. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Claudia asks. At the same time Pete demands to know "Time for what? How much time?" "Enough." Artie stops the barrage of questions. He points to Claudia and puts on his best no-nonsense tone. "You – get yourself back to the warehouse first thing in the morning, there is inventory to do and you're days behind. And you-Pete, just lie there and recuperate. And hurry it up. I can't have you out of action like this for long. Leave everything else to me. Understood?" Artie does not wait for Pete or Claudia to acknowledge their understanding before he makes his hasty exit. Pete isn't satisfied in the least with Artie's answers. He needs to see Myka for himself. He makes a move to pull the IV from his arm, to get out of bed. "What are you doing? You have to rest." Claudia tells him "I need to find Myka." Pete insists. "Someone better tell me what the hell is going on. You guys are all acting very weird." "I just need to know she is ok." Pete answers. Suddenly he doesn't care if Claudia knows that he is worried about Myka, that he cares about her. "Artie said she was. You don't believe him?" "I just need to talk to her." "You can't leave the hospital. You're injured." "I'll be fine. Just give me a hand will you?" Pete asks. "I'll go find Myka, I'll bring her here." Claudia offers. The thought pleases Pete. Because his head is already spinning from the pain killers, and he isn't sure he can even stand on his feet let alone find Myka or convince her to talk to him. "Are you sure?" Pete asks. "Trust me, I can do it, I'll go find Myka and bring her here, just wait here." "You don't even know where to start looking." "Trust me, I'll find her." Claudia assures him. And within a flash, the girl was gone. Pete feels it instinctively that Myka is in trouble. That she needs him. He had seen that look in her eyes at the prison. He knows she still tortures herself over what happened to Sam. He wants more than anything to take that burden off her shoulders. And now that Pete looks back, even before they got to the prison, before those hallucinations started, Myka had been acting strangely. Pete doesn't think Artie realises how close to the edge Myka is. Artie hadn't been there, hadn't seen the conviction in her eyes as she held that gun to her own head. Pete felt he had been somehow protecting Myka to keep that part of the story to himself. That she wouldn't have wanted the others to know. But he wonders now if he ought to have told Artie. Myka had always built walls around her true feelings, built them up high to keep others out. And he had always been the only one who ever really saw a glimpse into the true Myka. It was up to him to reach her. But he was stranded helpless in this damn hospital bed. All he could do was wait and hope for Claudia to return. ******* Mrs Frederic is far from pleased as Artie recounts the meeting with Myka. "I'm afraid that is not an acceptable outcome, Arthur." Mrs Frederic informs him. "Myka doesn't want to be part of the warehouse anymore, I can't change that." He protests. "Change it you will." Mrs Frederic insists. "With all due respect, Mrs Frederic, I can't see the point..." "I didn't ask for your opinion. Myka is needed at the warehouse. You will ensure she returns to her position immediately. Thank you Arthur." And that had been the end of that. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:50 AM Post #8 |
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Chapter 8 Artie sighs wearily as he stares down at Myka's file. She and Pete were two of the best agents the warehouse had ever seen. And he didn't want to lose Myka, that much was true. But on the other hand it didn't sit right with him, forcing her back to the warehouse against her will. Myka had been right- she was risking her own life every day at the warehouse- they all were. Who was Artie to stop her leaving if that's what she wanted? The incident with the mirror had frightened him too. He thinks often of what would have happened if Claudia and Leena had not been there. If Myka had been trapped inside for eternity. It was one of many possible horrific outcomes that loomed over them all. Many agents had already lost their lives, many endured a fate worse than death. It was a stark reality. Myka was right to run as fast as she could. Who could blame her for wanting out? So troubled is he that it is quite some time before Artie asks himself the question- just why is Mrs Frederic so adamant about Myka returning to the warehouse? As Artie closes the file in front of him, a photograph slips out onto the floor. A photo of Myka's family. While Artie knew many things about Myka, about all the agents, about their families, he had never seen a picture of Myka's parents. And he takes a moment to examine it. The man in the photo, Myka's father, disturbs him. The man's eyes are staring back at him. He is eerily familiar to Artie. Minutes later Artie convinces himself that the man appears familiar to him because of the resemblance to Myka. That's all. It's only much later that night, while Myka is still playing on his mind preventing him from sleeping, that the man's face flashes before him again. Abruptly he sits bolt upright in bed as he remembers just exactly where he has seen that man before. Myka is still sitting right there in that exact same spot hours after Artie has left her. Still nursing that same cup of coffee, now stone cold. She hasn't any intention of drinking it. She hasn't anywhere to go. She finds it unsettling- Having no where to belong, having no purpose in life. She is a part of nothing. She is no one. She tries to make plans, with logic and reason and forward thinking. But all she sees in front of her is a brick wall. She is intelligent. Young. There are many opportunities in the world for someone such as her. But they lie too far out of her reach, obscured from view. Everything around her is oppressively dark. She feels like she is drowning. She feels like she doesn't really care much. Fleetingly she had considered the option of visiting her parents. But she knows she can not face them right now. Things between them were strained enough at the best of times. She never felt worthy in their eyes. She never felt like she belonged. The last thing she needed was their criticism and condemnation. And yet, there was no where else to go. She had never really longed for the security of a place to call home. But right now she feels so lost. She longs for something to ground her. She needs someone. And she can't help it that her thoughts turn to Pete. In the relatively short time they'd been partners, he had always been there for her. Always stood by her in a way she had never known anyone else to do. He was the one that kept her together, lifted her up. She thinks back to the first days together. She had warned him then that she was hallucinating about Sam, she had warned him then that he couldn't count on her. But Pete wouldn't hear it. He was so assured of himself. He had so much faith in her, he quelled all her lingering restless fears. "Trust me" he had told her, and she had. But now Pete is gone, she let him down. And only now that Pete isn't around does she realise what a vital part of her existence Pete Lattimer had become. She is startled out of her thoughts as a man approaches her table. "Can I buy you a drink?" He asks, smiling confidently. "I don't think so." She answers, sighing wearily. She isn't THAT desperate for company. For love. Uninvited though he is, he sits opposite her. "Don't you just wish you could tun back time? Undo all the mistakes. Make things right." The man muses. She decides he is intoxicated. And abruptly gets up to leave without acknowledging him any further. There was a time she would have told him to #$%^ off, a time she would have flashed her badge or her gun or both and put him in his place. She hasn't the energy tonight. She merely walks away. He makes no move to follow her as she does so. He doesn't have to. His words are enough to stop her in her tracks. "Agent Bering." He calls out after her. She stops, but she refuses to turn and face him. Refuses to ask him how he knew her name. If she turned now he would see in her eyes that he had caught her off guard. It would give him too much control, too much satisfaction, and instinctively she is aware that the man is bad news. "I think you'll find we have a lot in common." He continues. "I doubt that." She answers without turning to face him. She has started for the door again. "I believe we could be a great help to one another." He tells her. At this suggestion, she turns to face him, feeling suddenly bold, feeling suddenly like she can at least make a pretence of boldness. His words intrigue her. "There is nothing you can do to help me." She tells him resolutely. She doesn't know or particularly care who he is or how he knows her name, but one thing she is certain about- he can not help her now. There is nothing anyone can do to fix up the mess she's made of her life. "But, just imagine for a moment, if you could turn back time. If you could change that day in Denver..." His eerie voice trails off leaving the tantalising suggestion hanging between them. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:50 AM Post #9 |
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Chapter 9 There is something about him that inclines Myka to listen. To sit back down opposite him and consider his proposal. She tells herself she is curious, nothing more. About him, about his plans. She tells herself he is crazy, he might be a threat to the warehouse, to Pete. She tells herself she needs to listen to him, to observe him, that it might come in handy later if he did launch an attack. She needs to find out all she can about this man, and tell Artie or Pete so they can protect the warehouse. She tells herself that is all there is to it. That is the reason, and the only one, that she turned around and sat down with him. He tells of his plans, vaguely and succinctly, which involve obtaining some particular artifacts from the Warehouse- rather involve her obtaining some particular artifacts from the warehouse which he claims he knows how to activate. It is the first time Myka has met a person outside of the Warehouse who even knows what the Warehouse is. She wants to ask him how he knows so much, she wants to ask who he is, how he found her. But she listens silently, observing him. He tells her that in exchange for her help he will see to it that she has the opportunity to use the artifacts for herself, to turn back time and right her own wrongs. He is deliberately evasive about his own plans for this artifact that can supposedly turn back time. Myka can not deny, he has planted a seed with his words. Temptation has taken hold of her. She knows things are never that simple. You can not un-do mistakes, you can not bring someone back. No matter how much you want to. But his words have flicked a switch inside her head. She can't help that glimmer of hope that has been ignited when she thinks of the possibility that she could go back and save Sam. There was a time she would have dismissed this man as crazy. Turning back time?-utter madness. Now, she is not so sure. Now there is that little part of her, that warehouse indoctrinated part of her, that wonders- what if it is possible? Even conceding that it may be possible, she knows it is not advisable. She knows there would be unforeseen ramifications, after effects, from tearing apart the fabric of time. She knows things are best left alone. Consequences are often unpredictable and deadly. She has seen it with her own eyes. Well meaning people using artifacts for their own personal gain, it blows up in their face, time and time again, without fail. It's a bad bad bad idea. She knows it. She reminds herself of it. But still, there is that little voice in her head asking her ..'Don't you owe it to Sam? You were late, he died because of you, don't you owe it to him to at least try?" She thinks of Claudia, of the lengths she went to save her brother. How crazy it all was. Utterly crazy. And that turned out perfectly fine. Maybe, just maybe, there is a way. Maybe some things are meant to be made right. She closes the door on the idea of collaborating with this man, she closes it firmly and bolts it. Such an artifact in the wrong hands would have devastating consequences. And this man must know she is not desperate enough, not stupid enough, to simply hand it over to him for his own personal use. There is no way she could take responsibility for the havoc that would wreak on society, or the threat to the warehouse itself. But she can't deny she is wondering about this artifact. She is wondering where it is in the warehouse, she is wondering what it looks like, wondering if she could find it, wondering how it works, and what would happen if she used it. Yes, he has undoubtedly planted the seed of temptation in her mind. ... Claudia had perfected the GPS cell phone tracker for such an occasion as this. It was one of those secret projects, not something she shared with Artie, fearing his disapproval at her time wasting. She could hear his voice in her mind booming loudly- What the hell do you need that for? If you need to find Myka or Pete, just ask me. She felt a little bad about it, truth be told, tracking people was kinda an invasion of privacy. But she told herself the day would come she would need to locate one or the other of them-without Artie- and she would be prepared. She knew it would come in handy one day, and lookie it did! All in all it would prove a fairly easy endeavor- provided Myka had her phone switched on and with her. She chose not to share that with Pete though- for one she didn't think he would take to kindly to the idea that she could track their whereabouts whenever she chose, and for two she didn't want him to think it was too easy. She wanted both he and Myka to recognize her as someone who had valuable contributions to make to the Warehouse, someone who could take on an impossible task and work hard to achieve it. So let him think she would have a hell of a time finding Myka, it would make her look all the more heroic in his eyes. As she stands on the stairs at the hospital entrance and looks out into the night, it strikes her as odd that she has to use her contraption. She can not believe Myka is not here, around here somewhere, at least making sure Pete is alright. She tells herself that if she sits on the steps right there, sure enough Myka must show up. She gives her a minute. She sits, waiting, giving Myka a chance to just stroll on past, to redeem herself in Claudia's eyes. But she can't wait all night. She knows Pete won't wait. That if she doesn't bring Myka back with her, then Pete will take it upon himself to go off looking for her. And so, disappointed, she reaches for her cell phone and activates the GPS tracking program. |
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| Carly | Jul 25 2010, 06:51 AM Post #10 |
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Chapter 10 Myka is only staring at the man, she refuses to speak, refuses to give anything away. For she has gathered he is sounding her out. He is waiting for her reaction. And she isn't sure just yet how she is going to play this. He has leaned in close, whispering to her, and she refuses to pull away from him, refuses to let him know she is intimidated. And so she remains still, only inches from him, staring boldly into his eyes. As it turns out, she doesn't have to worry, as their meeting is interrupted. Neither of them see the girl approaching their table, not until she is directly upon them, slamming her palms down with enough force to send the coffee cups flying. "Myka, what the hell?" Claudia is demanding to know, as Myka and her companion jump in shock. The man takes this as his cue to leave. "I can see you're busy, we'll talk another time." He tells her. Myka watches him leave, she wants to tell him to wait. She needs to find out so much more, what are his plans, how she can stop him. But he has gone, and she can hardly continue the conversation in front of Claudia in any case. Reluctantly she turns her attention in Claudia's direction. Claudia has invited herself to sit. "Well?" She is demanding. "Are you going to answer my question?" Myka does not take too kindly to being interrupted at her meeting, nor to the tone of Claudia's voice. "Your question?" Myka asks. "Claudia, 'What the hell?' is not a complete question. If you can't construct a proper sentence, then how do you expect me to answer you?" Her tone is irritated, and as with Artie, Myka finds it so much easier to fall into anger with Claudia than to have a genuine discussion. "Oh, let me clarify it for you- What the hell is going on? What the hell are you doing here? Pete is in the hospital, you know? You shot him, remember? He is asking for you." Claudia own irritation is rising by the second. "You don't know what you're talking about." Myka dismisses her. "Go away, Claudia." With those words, Myka stands from the table, leaving the bewildered girl sitting alone. It's only seconds before Claudia is on her feet, following Myka out into the night, calling out after her. "Perhaps you could explain it to me. Pete is lying there injured, you know from the bullet tearing through his flesh, and he is worried sick about you, and you're just...having coffee at some diner in the middle of nowhere with a really cute guy...Nice Myka. " Myka flinches at the image of Pete, injured at her hand. She can think of nothing to say to Claudia's words, and so she keeps walking silently. "Are you mad at him or what?" Claudia asks, after she has caught up with Myka in the car park. As they walk side by side, Myka answers honestly "No, I'm not mad at Pete." "Well you did smash a plate over his head this morning. I'm just trying to put it all together here." Claudia continues. "I was mad, now I'm over it." Myka answers. Had it only been that morning she had been having breakfast with Claudia and Pete, that things had been normal, and the only thing on her mind was her self pitying sense of anger at Pete for not recognizing Alice as an imposter? It seems like a lifetime ago. "Got that out of your system when you shot him, did you?" Claudia asks bitterly. She was angry with Myka before she even laid eyes on her, that was true. Not so much for shooting Pete, but for running out on him, on all of them. But the lack of satisfying explanation combined with the fact Claudia can see that Myka has no intention of coming with her to see Pete, only fuels the fire of her rage. "It was an accident Claudia, I didn't mean for Pete to get hurt." The anger is gone from Myka's voice as she utters those words. There is only sincerity and regret in her tone. That was the whole reason she was leaving the Warehouse, because Pete couldn't count on her. Because she let him down, she hurt him. She knew all too well her shortcomings, didn't need Claudia throwing them in her face. The look in Myka's eyes, and the way her voice is shaking, is almost enough to make Claudia stop. But she can't. She can't bare to think of going back to that hospital without Myka, of failing Pete. She is finally getting somewhere, and so after a brief hesitation, she continues. "You abandoned him. Left him for dead." Claudia accuses her. "The paramedics were there, he was in good hands." Myka defends herself. "You left him injured in the hospital, all alone." Claudia continues. "He's not alone, he has you, he has Artie." Myka reminds her. I am the one who is alone, Claudia. That is what she wants to say. "And yet, Pete is only asking for you. And if you don't come with me right now, he is gonna get up and come looking himself. Is that what you want?" "Stop him." Myka tells her. As if it were that simple. As if there were anything Claudia could actually do to prevent Pete from finding Myka. "Just come with me, just to see him, what's the big deal, what's it going to cost you to just come and see him?" Claudia genuinely wants to know. "Forget it Claudia." Myka tells her, but her voice is wavering. Her resolve is crumbling right in front of Claudia's eyes. "Forget it?" Claudia asks. "Pete is lying there injured. A couple of inches to the left and he would be lying dead in the morgue right now, but just forget it Claudia, nevermind." Her voice is dripping with sarcasm, with disdain. And she had deliberately made up that part about the bullet being only a few inches shy of fatal. "Stop." Myka tells her. Myka almost begs her. She quickens her pace, she already knows the things Claudia says are true. It was a lousy thing to do, running out on Pete while he was injured. She doesn't need Claudia to tell her. But Claudia won't stop. She only twists the knife of guilt a little deeper into Myka's heart. "Oh that's great Myka, just run away, from me, from Pete, that's just perfect. You don't even care, do you? You don't even want to see that he is ok? I used to look up to you, did you know that? I used to wish I could be just like you. Not anymore. I just don't get you." Claudia stops walking at that point. Almost defeated. There isn't much more she can say, she doesn't recognize this person as the Myka she knows, she is lost as to how to communicate with her. She stops following her, but she keeps talking, raising her voice so that Myka will hear her as she walks away into the night. " You know, if things were the other way round, if you were lying there injured, there isn't anything in the world that would keep Pete from your side. And you know it." The angry desperate words carry across the still night air, reaching deep inside Myka and seizing her heart. And finally, she stops running. |
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2:23 PM Jul 11