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It is with no little disappointment - well hidden, but present nonetheless - that Helena enters the bed and breakfast to find Pete is the only one there to greet her. She experiences a certain amount of trepidation when he emerges from the living room to investigate the opening and closing of the front door and simply stares at her for a moment; the regents may have finally given her carte blanche after days of debriefings and meetings with several psychologists, but their approval didn't necessarily indicate his.
She remembers all too well his ire at her presence during the retrieval of Joshua's trumpet, and although he had since shown signs of begrudging acceptance of her holographic form, that is a far cry from accepting the reality of her reinstatement. Her fingertips find the locket at her throat that Myka had returned to her before Kosan had taken her away again and she eyes Pete cautiously.
The grin that erupts on his face is unexpected, to say the least.
"Hey," he greets her, his voice utterly devoid of the year and a half of baggage between them.
Helena blinks. "Hello, Pete."
"They finally done poking your brain, then?" His smile has yet to fade, and Helena thinks he might actually be rocking back on his heels as an excited child would do.
"The regents have released me, yes."
The smile grows impossibly wider. It is somewhat disconcerting. "So you're here to stay?"
"If you will have me." Her gaze flicks warily up the staircase, memories of her intrusion on this family's peace and stability weighing heavily.
"Are you kidding?" A hand slaps her shoulder as he steps closer, a jovial if brutish gesture, and she feels some of her concern ebb away. "You're back, Steve's back, the whole family's home and together again." His brow furrows. "Well, not right now, obviously, but you know what I mean. Claudia and Steve got dragged to some big serious meeting with the regents and Artie went along. Leena's out getting stuff for the party we're gonna have to celebrate you and Steve being back, but really I think she just didn't want to get dragged into my movie night."
"And Myka..."
"Sleeping upstairs. In your old room."
This is said with a degree of significance which Helena deems wholly inadequate. She finds herself filled with questions and a frustrating inability to decide where to start.
Pete must sense this, and offers the beginnings of an explanation. "Artie had it brought over from the Warehouse a couple days ago. She's pretty much been hanging out there when we've got downtime."
"Artie? Why - "
"He said you coming back was when, not if. Seemed real happy about it too. For Artie, I mean. So, he didn't grumble about it, is what I'm saying." He pins her with a look, his expression finally becoming serious. "He vouched for you to Mrs. F and the regents, you know."
Irritation flashes through her briefly. "They didn't see fit to mention that." Knowing that she had somehow managed to earn Artie's trust would have gone a long way toward easing her concerns about returning to the bed and breakfast, though she is somewhat at a loss to explain how she had done it. She frowns, absently staring at a vase across the hallway.
"Mykes has been worried though. You should go see her." She starts at the unexpected compassion in Pete's voice and slides her eyes back to his. He looks vaguely uncomfortable for a moment, but he seems to push it aside and nods to himself. "She really likes you, you know? I don't know if she knows how much she likes you, but I can tell. The vibes from her when she's talking about you are..." He drifts off and finishes the sentence with a vague hand movement. "And if she... likes you, then as Mr. Supportive Big Brother guy, I do too."
Helena blinks rapidly against the sting at the back of her eyes; she refuses to cry at this gesture, and has the distinct impression that Pete would rather she didn't as well. "I... thank you, Pete."
She finds herself wrapped in his arms then, an awkward embrace that she nonetheless returns. "Thanks for saving our asses," he rumbles into her ear.
"I rather think we all saved each other's."
"Still." They exchange a final pat on the other's back, and Pete steps away. A hand goes to the back of his head and he clears his throat before fixing her with a narrow-eyed stare. "Of course, as Mr. Supportive Big Brother guy I also have to tell you that if you ever break her heart again, there won't be anything left of you to be bronzed or stored on a coin or whatever other punishment the regents could think up for you."
"Understood." Helena recalls the way Myka had appeared when she spoke to her at Bering and Sons nearly a year ago, the haunted, broken look of a woman who had had her faith shattered and her confidence torn asunder. There are few things she would not do to assure Myka never experienced such pain again, certainly not by her own hand. She chances a longer glance at Pete, remembering how she had planned to prevent him from getting in the way of her vengeance. "Pete, your Ms. Hernandez... I do apologize for -"
"Don't." His voice is sharp now. "I can forgive you for everything else, since Myka and Artie do, but what you did to Kelly... Just don't. Let's not talk about it, okay?"
She nods. It is more than she has the right to ask for.
"Now go see Mykes, before everyone else gets back and you two can't get a second alone."
His head jerks toward the staircase and with another nod and a small smile Helena heeds his advice and makes the ascent to the second floor of the bed and breakfast. She finds the door of her bedroom where she remembers it appearing upon her first reinstatement to agent status, wedged between those of Myka and Claudia. Pete had once likened the building to something from a film involving a man named Willy Wonka; she had never seen the film in question, but from his description of shrinking hallways and rooms far larger than their entryways would indicate, she can see how the description would be accurate. The wall she faces as she stands uncertainly at the landing is far too small to accommodate three rooms of such a size as theirs, to say nothing of the ability to add or remove them to and from the Warehouse without the need for considerable remodeling.
But continuing to ponder the peculiarities of the inn's architecture would do no one any good, least of all Myka. With a steadying breath she steps forward and gently pushes the door open, stepping quickly inside and closing it behind her before the light in the hallway can wake the sleeping form she can only just discern in the dark.
She lets her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, standing silent watch over Myka as she slumbers in the middle of the bed facing the door, dim moonlight casting shadows across the single sheet covering her body. The faint outline of the strap of a tank top is visible across Myka's shoulder as Helena steps closer to the bed, and after a long moment of simply taking in the nearness of her, she can no longer resist joining her and perches on the edge of the bed, one foot folded beneath her with the other on the floor.
Myka stirs at the disturbance, her eyes fluttering open and meeting Helena's. She blinks slowly, returning to full awareness, and Helena's breath catches when her lips spread into a soft smile.
"I was just dreaming about this." Myka's voice is barely above a whisper, heavy with sleep, but still manages to convey a contentment that Helena has not heard from her in far too long.
Unruly curls tangle in Helena's fingers as she reaches out to brush them away from Myka's face. "About what?"
"You, being here. Only you were lying in my arms, and I knew I never had to let you go."
Something in her chest swells with affection for the woman before her. Her hand caresses a cheek before moving to cast off her boots, and when she settles beneath the sheet next to Myka and a lazy arm wraps around her waist she feels at once serenity and utter despondence for how this must inevitably end. "Was that the extent of your dream?"
Myka sidles closer, light reflecting off her eyes as she looks into Helena's. "No," she says simply. "I kissed you, and told you how much I love you."
Her eyes fall closed at this. Myka deserves far better than her, and although she can't help but long for exactly those words, she knows she can't accept them. She opens her mouth to argue, but Myka cuts her off before she can even begin.
"You argued, and said you didn't deserve it after everything you'd done." There is humor in Myka's eyes when Helena reopens hers to meet them, but a seriousness underlies both her gaze and the lilting recollection of her voice. "I told you that I'd forgiven you a long time ago, and that with everything you've been through, there's no one more deserving of finally getting a little peace and happiness. And that after almost losing you so many times, I'd be damned if I was going to let you martyr yourself out of it." She emphasizes this with a dip of her head, her brow falling to rest gently against Helena's. "And I kissed you again, and then you woke me up."
So many arguments, born out of so much complicated history, and Myka simply pushes them aside with a dream. Helena releases a breath and lets a hand brush over the skin at Myka's waist that has been exposed by her shirt having ridden up. "I see."
They fall silent as they absorb the presence of the other and Myka's hand mirrors hers at her hip. Fingers gently explore warm flesh almost as an afterthought, their bodies inching closer until each can feel the heartbeat of the other and be comforted by its strength.
"So if I were to tell you I love you right now," Myka murmurs at length, "would we have to argue about it, or could you just accept it and let us move on?"
Helena's lips quirk, an eyebrow raising in amusement. "I would hate to make you repeat yourself."
"Good."
Myka kisses her then, and she is at peace.