It should not be this easy to rekindle the urge to kill, yet Helena knew she would always have it. It was a side effect from Christina's murder, and Helena would just have to deal with the fact that for the rest of her life she would have a task to keep her murderous tendencies at bay. Though at least in all situations when she got them, aside from the Trident mess, her murderous tendencies were directed at those who deserved it. But here she was, feeling the absolute need to add Moriarty to the list of people she'd killed. More than anything, she wanted to just walk out the door and not come back until he was dead.
But she didn't. She couldn't become that person again. She couldn't let herself fall now, even if Moriarty deserved it. Helena couldn't let herself go on the offensive in such a manner. Truthfully, she should probably go find Myka to help talk her down from this. Myka was the one who could always talk her down from things. Myka was the one who knew her better than anyone else. She was also the one that Helena trusted more than anyone else. Myka was that missing part of her soul, the one that made her feel the most like the woman she'd been before Christina had died. Which was not an easy thing to do. But it was there, and Helena was trying to cling to that, to her bond with Myka so that she wouldn't fall further. She needed grounding in this world, people to allow her to open up in ways she hadn't let herself open up in in well over a century.
Irene gave one of those aspects to her. The sex was more than just sex because it helped Helena open herself up, to let someone that close to her, to know her in that sense. For 120 years she'd kept everyone at an arm's length, never letting them get close to her emotionally or physically. It was undoubtedly for this reason that she was actually crying when Myka came in. Helena spun around, a bit surprised to see Myka there. Though it would be just like the agent to show up when she needed her the most. She tried to give a half-hearted smile, but it didn't even register on her face.
"Moriarty has started his game with me." And for the first time, fear was clear in her voice. She had never been this scared in her entire life. Not even when Jack the Ripper had been running around Whitechapel. Not even when she resigned herself to death twice and was faced with the prospect of never seeing Myka again. She glanced at the computer. "Apparently, we are fictional. He sent me a video." She turned away from the computer, not even wishing to look at the screen. She couldn't. Not with those images of Christina in it. Not with the overtone of the video. It only made her even more scared as to what Moriarty would do to her in the future.