Warehouse 13 AU: Persist In Folly (9/9)
Aug. 9th, 2012 05:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seriousficTitle: Persist In Folly
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,533
Characters/Pairings: Myka/HG
Previous: Part 8
Summary: Helena takes steps.
Pete and Steve found them then. A good thing: for Myka, seeing Helena in pain was as bad as the pain itself. Steve was the one to handcuff Helena. All Myka and Pete had to do was not say anything.
There was no one left to give them orders, no one left to trust Helena with. So they took her back to Warehouse 13. Put her in a cell with Myka watching her. No one asked if Myka was her guard.
Helena just sat in her prison, her lips quaking, her fingers twitching. Myka knew what she was doing. A thousand times she'd gazed adoringly at Helena as she silently debated herself, going over the day's adventure with a writer's eye, retelling it in prose until a critical detail cracked loose. Now Helena had turned her brilliant mind to reliving her daughter's death.
As much as Myka hated Christine for what she'd done to Helena, she understood her. Christine had loved her mother, in a way. She'd commit any atrocity to ease Helena's pain. Myka could say the same. Only there was nothing to do. No dragons to slay. Ghosts were the monsters that tortured Helena. Impossible to kill. Already dead.
"Don't look at me," Helena said at last. Her voice came from the grave. "Judge me elsewhere."
"I'm not judging you," Myka said simply. No vehemence. She knew Helena believed her.
"You should!" Helena's whole body shook. "I made it worse. She was dead and I made it worse!"
"I love you," Myka said. She didn't know what else there was.
"There's nothing to love. Go." Myka didn't move. "Go!" Helena was up suddenly, her once-lifeless body now jammed against the bars. "Is a monster such an appealing bedfellow to you? Or is it just that you're so fearful of losing another lover that you won't end a relationship for anything? You deserve so much, Myka, and you take table scraps! For God's sake, have some pride! I don't want you! You're pathetic! Sam wouldn't want you either, you worthless slag! You're beneath even me!"
Myka stood and, as if chastened, Helena stopped. There was no need to go on. She'd gotten what she wanted.
A deep breath and Myka said "I'm going, but you're not alone. You're never alone."
***
Myka slept in the Warehouse, curled up with Trailer, not so much crying as feeling the tears migrating on her face. She felt that footstep-on-her-grave curdle. It seemed to go with Helena. She'd always thought the woman was worth it.
After vomiting up what little she'd eaten the previous day, she rolled her hand over her pregnant belly to assure herself it hadn't all been a fever dream. Real life could turn from dream to a nightmare too.
She went outside and there was Pete, pacing like he didn't know how to face her. He didn't figure it out in her presence; just looked at her sidelong. "Helena's gone."
"Gone? What do you mean gone? She didn't—"
Pete saw the look in her eye and panicked in turn. "No! She's just missing. We'll find her."
"I can't lose her, Pete. I have a baby who deserves to meet this woman. Helena was going to take care of us. She healed me and I can't even… can't even hold onto her."
"Hey!" Pete grabbed her arm with enough force to shock her. She hadn't thought how much pressure he was under, seeing two friends burning together. "This woman's a genius, right? If you're scary-smart, she's Exorcist-smart. You really think someone like that is going to let you get away?"
Myka's Farnsworth rang. Claudia. "Hey, I've got a lock on HG."
"A lock."
"Yeah, I Lojacked her, so what? Last time she went on tour, Dakota ended up with a new petting zoo. Wait, is that still a sore subject?"
"Tact later, Clauds," Pete said. "Where's the book signing?"
"Even I know you're not gonna like this. Bronze Sector."
***
Steve met them with their Teslas, then they split up. He ran in from the South, while Pete and Myka took Edison's Stage-coach. With the fetus added to the bio-electric propulsion, it was like riding a roller coaster. Myka told herself it was the wind pulling tears from her eyes.
"Any idea who she'd want to unbronze?" Pete yelled over the wind.
"No clue."
"Any chance there's a grief counselor statue down there?"
"Doubt it."
They grinded to a stop, meeting Steve's eyes. He pointed out another entry point to them. They hustled to it. Pete hoisted his Tesla.
"Stay behind me."
"Okay, but next time you be pregnant and hide behind me."
"Deal." He broke the door down.
There was no sign of Helena. No obvious subtraction from the ranks. After a quick sweep, Pete was on the Farnsworth. "Claudia, we're sure HG is in here?"
"Did you check the ceiling? Maybe she's hanging from the ceiling!"
"Guys," Steve called. He had opened the bronzer.
Myka took one look inside and screamed. "Get her out, get her out, I want her out of there!"
Pete grabbed her before she could run to Helena. Try to pull the bronze off with her bare hands.
A second look at the statue and the strength left Myka. She collapsed in Pete's arms, pulling him down with her so they were both on the floor. Helena looming over them.
"Why? Why would she do that to herself again?"
"Let's ask her," Steve said. He was at the console. A video was cued on the screen. HG's face on pause.
***
"I never thought anyone would cry over me. I always did love a twist ending." A rueful smile. Helena seemed to have mastered that. "I'm afraid I embellished the experience of being bronzed. To make myself more sympathetic. The heroine of whatever my book is. I always do that. Else I'd appear quite the devil. I was born in 1855. Perhaps I'm finally old enough to appear as I am."
Helena pulled a cigarette from its pack, threw the pack away. Lit up.
"Sorry, Myka. I promise I'll never do it again."
Helena exhaled, but there was no savoring in it. Just dirty air.
"In bronze, one can feel time passing, but it's quite painless, I assure you. You don't feel anything. You see, you hear, but there's no boredom… no regret, no despair, no judgment. It's very quiet."
Another flavorless drag. The smoke hung in the air, wreathing her.
"I do believe such circumstances led me to commit to the Minoan Trident. It was a plan conceived in grief, but followed in numbness. If I had been able to feel the horror of what I'd cause… Well. Don't worry. I no longer harbor any such illusions. If a mother were to see her child die but a moment before she herself expired, I would have done pure evil."
She stubbed the cigarette out.
"This is not suicide. I have no illusions of reaching Heaven, and I am a selfish enough creature to put off Hell. I simply want to stop feeling. But first, an apology. Myka…"
Tears welled in Helena's eyes. She ruthlessly wiped them away.
"I didn't mean what I said to you last night. I am a liar, but one thing made me honest. Us. I never lied about what you meant to me. Whatever book is written of me, you are the heroine, not I. You are quite literally the better angel of my nature. This purgatory I go to is the only way I know to live without you. Now, let me make up for the things I said. Whoever's watching this with Myka—do not let her revive me. She's emotionally compromised and cannot be trusted on this matter. I do not wish to be revived until she is deceased. The only way I know to spare her my curse. I will be the Regents' slave so long as I live, provided I wake up to Myka's funeral. Myka Bering, you are going to have a long, beautiful, wondrous life—now that you're free of me."
***
Myka visited Helena every day. At first, just to look at her. She didn't want to forget a single facet of Helena's face. Then she came to read. Myka had always been a voracious reader. In her metal shell, Helena was glad she hadn't cost Myka her love of literature.
Myka read aloud for hours at a time. She read everything. Trashy paperbacks, the collected works of Shakespeare, even children's books. It didn't mean anything to Helena. In her state, she was affected by books exactly the same as silence. But the fact that Myka came to her again and again, her belly heavier each time, that was a splinter in the mind's eye. Helena felt nothing, but she thought of Myka missing her and missing her and missing her. It hurt Helena beneath her heart. In her soul.
Then one day Myka didn't come, and that should've been better. It wasn't.
Helena's thoughts turned irrevocably to what had become of Myka. Her every thought was a new horror that could've befallen Myka. But surely, Pete or another would tell her if anything had happened. Unless… all of them… and she was now alone.
If there was a hell, Helena thought it would be very much like this. Being able to think, with all her writer's imagination, of what had happened to Myka, but not permitted to shed one tear. And wasn't that better? To be empty, not full of pain?
After weeks of motionlessness, being moved was like having an out-of-body experience. She felt herself being dragged into the machine. Last time, she'd had her mad scheme to gird her against reopened wounds. Now, all she had were the feelings. They combusted in her heart and were pumped through her body on rushing blood. She'd gotten everything so wrong. With her first breath, Helena fell to her knees. Tears boiled out of her eyes and burnt her cheeks. She wiped them away to be instantly replaced.
Artie was there. He was bringing her a blanket for the light. She lunged for her tormentor. He defended himself, but her kempo had the force of instinct. Soon he was on the ground, her peppering him with insensate blows. "Why!? Why'd you bring me back?"
He took a slap without wincing. "She asked."
With a cry of anguish, Helena fell off him and scuttled back across the room. Her back hit the wall with bone-jarring force, then her head thudded into it.
"She'd be here," Artie said, rubbing his jaw. "But she can't see you like this. So you get it out of your system before you see her. You owe her. She's been through enough."
"You think I'm unaware of that? I never lost sight of what I put Myka through! I did this for her! The fate I deserved would destroy her. I thought this… I thought this way, she could have closure."
"Closure? She cries herself to sleep at night! She puts on a brave face to read to you and she still leaves here with red eyes!"
Helena banged her fist on the floor until it hurt. She needed to feel something. "You can't tell me this! I was bronzed not to know that!"
"And you think the Bronze will be easier?" Artie stood. "You'll wake up with her dead and hear all about her life. How she raised a daughter alone. How she was always so sad when she thought no one was looking. And maybe she'll move on, but you won't have anything to do with it. Another of HG Wells' unpaid debts."
"Like Christina."
"Christina wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done. But whatever happens to Myka, you'll know you could've been there. Even if her life is a walk in the park from here on, you could be there to share it with her. And you of all people should know the difference that can make. Be there for her, genius. That's the only debt you have to pay."
***
Helena's tears stopped. She collected herself, straightened her clothes. It didn't take as long as she'd've thought. She walked out of the room and saw Myka.
"Her name's Miranda," she said, holding their baby.
Beautiful. So beautiful.
"Named after Prospero's daughter in The Tempest, I expect." Helena would've turned away, tried to hide her face, but she couldn't stop looking.
"No. After The Devil Wears Prada. I love that movie."
"Pity. In The Tempest, Miranda inspired her father to give up his rage."
Myka got closer shyly, clutching Miranda tightly to her chest, like she wasn't sure she could trust Helena with her.
"Seems like a lot of pressure to put on a newborn."
Helena reached out and she didn't know if she could do it, didn't know if she could bear to touch her child. Every irrational organ in her body, every speck of vengeance, suddenly turned into the fear that she'd corrupt Miranda somehow, curse her, pass something on by blood and touch, but Myka opened her arms a bit and held the baby out and Helena couldn't not, she let her hand get closer and felt the fears and the foreboding and the voices melt until Miranda reached out and grabbed at her forefinger with hands the size of coins.
She pulled Helena's finger to her tiny mouth and bit her knuckles with empty teeth. Myka put an arm around Helena's shoulders, holding all three of them together.
"Do you want to hold her?"
Helena couldn't quite pull her hand away. Miranda was running her palm over Helena's fingernail as if delighted with it. "I don't deserve another chance."
"Hold her," Myka ordered and, firmly, gently, shifted Miranda into Helena's arms. It was… overpowering. Helena couldn't think of any other word for it. No way to describe what she was feeling. Just that there was so much of it. "So many things have happened to you that you don't deserve. You don't deserve this? Then earn it."
Helena spoke while her voice was still there. "I suppose… I could be prevailed upon to charge a diaper or two."
"I love you." There was a hitch in Myka's voice that was distinctly Helena's.
"Alright, three."
Myka kissed her then. Helena had forgotten how good that felt. How peaceful it could be.
"Of course I love you too," Helena breathed. It was all rushing in on her now, a stroke of inspiration, a million words to be spun into poems and sonnets and novels and bedtime stories. "You hold me. And I swear, I will always—"
Myka kissed her again. "I don't need anything from you, HG. Just stay."
"Yes."
Helena adjusted her hold on the baby. It was just enough weight to keep her grounded.
"She's beautiful. You both are."
"Of course she is. She came from you." Myka moved, circling around Helena to hold her from behind, nesting her arms with Helena like she could catch Miranda if Helena faltered.
"If she came from me, she'd be a little devil. No. She came from us. That's what makes her… holy."
Fandom: Warehouse 13
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,533
Characters/Pairings: Myka/HG
Previous: Part 8
Summary: Helena takes steps.
Pete and Steve found them then. A good thing: for Myka, seeing Helena in pain was as bad as the pain itself. Steve was the one to handcuff Helena. All Myka and Pete had to do was not say anything.
There was no one left to give them orders, no one left to trust Helena with. So they took her back to Warehouse 13. Put her in a cell with Myka watching her. No one asked if Myka was her guard.
Helena just sat in her prison, her lips quaking, her fingers twitching. Myka knew what she was doing. A thousand times she'd gazed adoringly at Helena as she silently debated herself, going over the day's adventure with a writer's eye, retelling it in prose until a critical detail cracked loose. Now Helena had turned her brilliant mind to reliving her daughter's death.
As much as Myka hated Christine for what she'd done to Helena, she understood her. Christine had loved her mother, in a way. She'd commit any atrocity to ease Helena's pain. Myka could say the same. Only there was nothing to do. No dragons to slay. Ghosts were the monsters that tortured Helena. Impossible to kill. Already dead.
"Don't look at me," Helena said at last. Her voice came from the grave. "Judge me elsewhere."
"I'm not judging you," Myka said simply. No vehemence. She knew Helena believed her.
"You should!" Helena's whole body shook. "I made it worse. She was dead and I made it worse!"
"I love you," Myka said. She didn't know what else there was.
"There's nothing to love. Go." Myka didn't move. "Go!" Helena was up suddenly, her once-lifeless body now jammed against the bars. "Is a monster such an appealing bedfellow to you? Or is it just that you're so fearful of losing another lover that you won't end a relationship for anything? You deserve so much, Myka, and you take table scraps! For God's sake, have some pride! I don't want you! You're pathetic! Sam wouldn't want you either, you worthless slag! You're beneath even me!"
Myka stood and, as if chastened, Helena stopped. There was no need to go on. She'd gotten what she wanted.
A deep breath and Myka said "I'm going, but you're not alone. You're never alone."
***
Myka slept in the Warehouse, curled up with Trailer, not so much crying as feeling the tears migrating on her face. She felt that footstep-on-her-grave curdle. It seemed to go with Helena. She'd always thought the woman was worth it.
After vomiting up what little she'd eaten the previous day, she rolled her hand over her pregnant belly to assure herself it hadn't all been a fever dream. Real life could turn from dream to a nightmare too.
She went outside and there was Pete, pacing like he didn't know how to face her. He didn't figure it out in her presence; just looked at her sidelong. "Helena's gone."
"Gone? What do you mean gone? She didn't—"
Pete saw the look in her eye and panicked in turn. "No! She's just missing. We'll find her."
"I can't lose her, Pete. I have a baby who deserves to meet this woman. Helena was going to take care of us. She healed me and I can't even… can't even hold onto her."
"Hey!" Pete grabbed her arm with enough force to shock her. She hadn't thought how much pressure he was under, seeing two friends burning together. "This woman's a genius, right? If you're scary-smart, she's Exorcist-smart. You really think someone like that is going to let you get away?"
Myka's Farnsworth rang. Claudia. "Hey, I've got a lock on HG."
"A lock."
"Yeah, I Lojacked her, so what? Last time she went on tour, Dakota ended up with a new petting zoo. Wait, is that still a sore subject?"
"Tact later, Clauds," Pete said. "Where's the book signing?"
"Even I know you're not gonna like this. Bronze Sector."
***
Steve met them with their Teslas, then they split up. He ran in from the South, while Pete and Myka took Edison's Stage-coach. With the fetus added to the bio-electric propulsion, it was like riding a roller coaster. Myka told herself it was the wind pulling tears from her eyes.
"Any idea who she'd want to unbronze?" Pete yelled over the wind.
"No clue."
"Any chance there's a grief counselor statue down there?"
"Doubt it."
They grinded to a stop, meeting Steve's eyes. He pointed out another entry point to them. They hustled to it. Pete hoisted his Tesla.
"Stay behind me."
"Okay, but next time you be pregnant and hide behind me."
"Deal." He broke the door down.
There was no sign of Helena. No obvious subtraction from the ranks. After a quick sweep, Pete was on the Farnsworth. "Claudia, we're sure HG is in here?"
"Did you check the ceiling? Maybe she's hanging from the ceiling!"
"Guys," Steve called. He had opened the bronzer.
Myka took one look inside and screamed. "Get her out, get her out, I want her out of there!"
Pete grabbed her before she could run to Helena. Try to pull the bronze off with her bare hands.
A second look at the statue and the strength left Myka. She collapsed in Pete's arms, pulling him down with her so they were both on the floor. Helena looming over them.
"Why? Why would she do that to herself again?"
"Let's ask her," Steve said. He was at the console. A video was cued on the screen. HG's face on pause.
***
"I never thought anyone would cry over me. I always did love a twist ending." A rueful smile. Helena seemed to have mastered that. "I'm afraid I embellished the experience of being bronzed. To make myself more sympathetic. The heroine of whatever my book is. I always do that. Else I'd appear quite the devil. I was born in 1855. Perhaps I'm finally old enough to appear as I am."
Helena pulled a cigarette from its pack, threw the pack away. Lit up.
"Sorry, Myka. I promise I'll never do it again."
Helena exhaled, but there was no savoring in it. Just dirty air.
"In bronze, one can feel time passing, but it's quite painless, I assure you. You don't feel anything. You see, you hear, but there's no boredom… no regret, no despair, no judgment. It's very quiet."
Another flavorless drag. The smoke hung in the air, wreathing her.
"I do believe such circumstances led me to commit to the Minoan Trident. It was a plan conceived in grief, but followed in numbness. If I had been able to feel the horror of what I'd cause… Well. Don't worry. I no longer harbor any such illusions. If a mother were to see her child die but a moment before she herself expired, I would have done pure evil."
She stubbed the cigarette out.
"This is not suicide. I have no illusions of reaching Heaven, and I am a selfish enough creature to put off Hell. I simply want to stop feeling. But first, an apology. Myka…"
Tears welled in Helena's eyes. She ruthlessly wiped them away.
"I didn't mean what I said to you last night. I am a liar, but one thing made me honest. Us. I never lied about what you meant to me. Whatever book is written of me, you are the heroine, not I. You are quite literally the better angel of my nature. This purgatory I go to is the only way I know to live without you. Now, let me make up for the things I said. Whoever's watching this with Myka—do not let her revive me. She's emotionally compromised and cannot be trusted on this matter. I do not wish to be revived until she is deceased. The only way I know to spare her my curse. I will be the Regents' slave so long as I live, provided I wake up to Myka's funeral. Myka Bering, you are going to have a long, beautiful, wondrous life—now that you're free of me."
***
Myka visited Helena every day. At first, just to look at her. She didn't want to forget a single facet of Helena's face. Then she came to read. Myka had always been a voracious reader. In her metal shell, Helena was glad she hadn't cost Myka her love of literature.
Myka read aloud for hours at a time. She read everything. Trashy paperbacks, the collected works of Shakespeare, even children's books. It didn't mean anything to Helena. In her state, she was affected by books exactly the same as silence. But the fact that Myka came to her again and again, her belly heavier each time, that was a splinter in the mind's eye. Helena felt nothing, but she thought of Myka missing her and missing her and missing her. It hurt Helena beneath her heart. In her soul.
Then one day Myka didn't come, and that should've been better. It wasn't.
Helena's thoughts turned irrevocably to what had become of Myka. Her every thought was a new horror that could've befallen Myka. But surely, Pete or another would tell her if anything had happened. Unless… all of them… and she was now alone.
If there was a hell, Helena thought it would be very much like this. Being able to think, with all her writer's imagination, of what had happened to Myka, but not permitted to shed one tear. And wasn't that better? To be empty, not full of pain?
After weeks of motionlessness, being moved was like having an out-of-body experience. She felt herself being dragged into the machine. Last time, she'd had her mad scheme to gird her against reopened wounds. Now, all she had were the feelings. They combusted in her heart and were pumped through her body on rushing blood. She'd gotten everything so wrong. With her first breath, Helena fell to her knees. Tears boiled out of her eyes and burnt her cheeks. She wiped them away to be instantly replaced.
Artie was there. He was bringing her a blanket for the light. She lunged for her tormentor. He defended himself, but her kempo had the force of instinct. Soon he was on the ground, her peppering him with insensate blows. "Why!? Why'd you bring me back?"
He took a slap without wincing. "She asked."
With a cry of anguish, Helena fell off him and scuttled back across the room. Her back hit the wall with bone-jarring force, then her head thudded into it.
"She'd be here," Artie said, rubbing his jaw. "But she can't see you like this. So you get it out of your system before you see her. You owe her. She's been through enough."
"You think I'm unaware of that? I never lost sight of what I put Myka through! I did this for her! The fate I deserved would destroy her. I thought this… I thought this way, she could have closure."
"Closure? She cries herself to sleep at night! She puts on a brave face to read to you and she still leaves here with red eyes!"
Helena banged her fist on the floor until it hurt. She needed to feel something. "You can't tell me this! I was bronzed not to know that!"
"And you think the Bronze will be easier?" Artie stood. "You'll wake up with her dead and hear all about her life. How she raised a daughter alone. How she was always so sad when she thought no one was looking. And maybe she'll move on, but you won't have anything to do with it. Another of HG Wells' unpaid debts."
"Like Christina."
"Christina wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could've done. But whatever happens to Myka, you'll know you could've been there. Even if her life is a walk in the park from here on, you could be there to share it with her. And you of all people should know the difference that can make. Be there for her, genius. That's the only debt you have to pay."
***
Helena's tears stopped. She collected herself, straightened her clothes. It didn't take as long as she'd've thought. She walked out of the room and saw Myka.
"Her name's Miranda," she said, holding their baby.
Beautiful. So beautiful.
"Named after Prospero's daughter in The Tempest, I expect." Helena would've turned away, tried to hide her face, but she couldn't stop looking.
"No. After The Devil Wears Prada. I love that movie."
"Pity. In The Tempest, Miranda inspired her father to give up his rage."
Myka got closer shyly, clutching Miranda tightly to her chest, like she wasn't sure she could trust Helena with her.
"Seems like a lot of pressure to put on a newborn."
Helena reached out and she didn't know if she could do it, didn't know if she could bear to touch her child. Every irrational organ in her body, every speck of vengeance, suddenly turned into the fear that she'd corrupt Miranda somehow, curse her, pass something on by blood and touch, but Myka opened her arms a bit and held the baby out and Helena couldn't not, she let her hand get closer and felt the fears and the foreboding and the voices melt until Miranda reached out and grabbed at her forefinger with hands the size of coins.
She pulled Helena's finger to her tiny mouth and bit her knuckles with empty teeth. Myka put an arm around Helena's shoulders, holding all three of them together.
"Do you want to hold her?"
Helena couldn't quite pull her hand away. Miranda was running her palm over Helena's fingernail as if delighted with it. "I don't deserve another chance."
"Hold her," Myka ordered and, firmly, gently, shifted Miranda into Helena's arms. It was… overpowering. Helena couldn't think of any other word for it. No way to describe what she was feeling. Just that there was so much of it. "So many things have happened to you that you don't deserve. You don't deserve this? Then earn it."
Helena spoke while her voice was still there. "I suppose… I could be prevailed upon to charge a diaper or two."
"I love you." There was a hitch in Myka's voice that was distinctly Helena's.
"Alright, three."
Myka kissed her then. Helena had forgotten how good that felt. How peaceful it could be.
"Of course I love you too," Helena breathed. It was all rushing in on her now, a stroke of inspiration, a million words to be spun into poems and sonnets and novels and bedtime stories. "You hold me. And I swear, I will always—"
Myka kissed her again. "I don't need anything from you, HG. Just stay."
"Yes."
Helena adjusted her hold on the baby. It was just enough weight to keep her grounded.
"She's beautiful. You both are."
"Of course she is. She came from you." Myka moved, circling around Helena to hold her from behind, nesting her arms with Helena like she could catch Miranda if Helena faltered.
"If she came from me, she'd be a little devil. No. She came from us. That's what makes her… holy."
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no subject
Date: 2012-08-10 11:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-08-11 09:31 pm (UTC)I soooo needed that happy end and it was everything I could wish for, even though there were a few moments when I was pretty close to tears. I particularly love that Artie is the one who gets Helena out of the Bronzer. Nice touch.
Great ending for a great story! :D
no subject
Date: 2012-08-12 01:21 am (UTC)That was such a beautiful ending! AAAAAHHHHJH! *falls to floor and cries like baby*
You, sir or ma'am, have crafted a beautifully wonderful story. You start with 1 angry and devastated woman, add in some dastardly regents, and get an apprehensive 'new' relationship. Then you multiply it by time and you've got soul mates and the magic of the bird and the bees. Then, as with all things that the Regents touch, everything backfires. Madness ensures. Angst flies all over the place. I cry unending tears of angsty painful goodness. And then you bring it all back with beautiful redemption.
I think that's what makes Myka and HG so awesome. The path from damnation to redemption. And you've captured that so wonderfully. Your writing is excellent, your command of the characters and keeping them so spot on is wonderful and not something that every fan fic writer is able to do. I enjoyed this story completely and thoroughly! You've done a magnificent job and all I can say is thank you so much for sharing!
~RoseSama35~
P.S: I'm also glad that I waited so long to read this so I'd have a complete story and not have to hang perilously on those cliffs you like to leave your chapters!
no subject
Date: 2012-09-08 05:24 pm (UTC)You have a beautiful writing style and have captured these characters so well. You had me crying over this final chapter and that is not an easy thing to do. Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2013-07-25 08:38 pm (UTC)