|Helena Wells has "disappeared" with the Astrolabe (ismellapples) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2012-04-23 03:59:00
|Entry tags:||helena g. wells|
Who: Helena Wells
What: Take the stress of yet another major change in her life. Add in her finding out she's a fictional person from Moriarty. Then add in the stress from being on Moriarty's radar because of her involvement with Irene. Clearly all of this equals her having nightmares about what happened to her in the Warehouse and being exploded by Moriarty.
When: 4 am the Twenty-third of April 2012
Where: Her apartment
Warning: Explosion and death in a nightmare, otherwise extreme fear and references to her actual death.
No, this couldn't be happening. It was the Warehouse all over again, instead this time Helena couldn't save herself. There was a ticking bomb strapped to her lap. There was no way out of this one. No move she could make that would save her. It was a game, a race to see if the rescue team could make it before the bomb went off. And all she could do was stare at the counter as the seconds ticked away. Once again, she knew she was going to die. There was no way they would get here and get her away from the bomb in under three minutes. This time, she wasn't dying as a hero, nobly saving those she cared for. No, she would be just another victim added to the long list of those Moriarty had killed. As much as the tears welled up in her eyes, Helena would still face death with dignity. At least in death, she wouldn't be subject to tragedy after tragedy as she had in life. Perhaps she could be with Christina again, if she'd managed to earn her way into Heaven.
The only thing that made her look away from the counter ticking away the last moments of her life was hearing Myka calling for her, though her voice was distant. A single tear made it down her cheek.
"Be brave, Myka."
Two. One. Zero.
The bomb detonated.
And Helena bolted straight up in bed, breathing heavily. For a moment, she wasn't sure if she was alive or dead. All she saw was the blackness of her bedroom. Lifting a hand and placing it against her chest, she felt her heart pounding against her chest. Okay. She was alive. And covered in a cold sweat. Taking a ragged deep breath, she leaned over and turned on the lamp beside her bed. After her eyes adjusted to the light, she pushed her blankets back and slid out of bed. She had to make sure Myka was still there and alive. To validate she'd only had a nightmare. Opening the door of her room as quietly as possible, she crossed over to the couch where Myka was sleeping. She could hear her breathing softly. Okay. Just a nightmare. Running a hand through her hair, Helena made her way over to her bathroom and ran the water for a shower. She was so cold and she didn't like being sweaty. Then she would make tea. Then perhaps play chess with herself, unless Myka woke up, then she'd probably make the agent play with her for a while. There was absolutely no way she was going to be sleeping again any time soon. Of course, she'd been saying that a lot the past couple days since the nightmares had started.
Removing her locket, she briefly helped it against her lips, trying to draw some strength from it before she set it on the edge of the sink and shedding her pajamas. Stepping into the shower, Helena just stood under the water, eyes closed, and let it envelop her. Really, she wasn't so sure how much longer she could go on like this. Little by little, she felt herself fraying, but she was clinging to herself, refusing to let herself be broken. Refusing to let herself lose control.
Then images from the Warehouse danced across her mind's eye. Namely those seconds when she knew she was going to die. When she ignored whatever Pete and Artie had been saying and focused solely on Myka.
"I smell apples."
Eyes snapping open, Helena took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It wasn't surprising she was having nightmares of dying in explosions or finding Myka, Claudia or Irene, or sometimes all three, were victims of Moriarty's penchant for blowing people up. After all, she'd all ready experienced death in such a manner. It was at least a quick way to go, though she was fairly certain if Moriarty decided to blow her up, there would actually be pieces of her body left for others to find. The explosion in the Warehouse had been nuclear, so there had been nothing left of Helena after that.
No, she couldn't think about that. She couldn't dwell on it. So she forced herself to focus on washing her hair and washing away the cold sweat. As much as she wished it was so easy to push dark and troubled thoughts from her mind, Helena just needed to find distractions in the matter. Really, she should wake Myka up, but she knew the agent needed sleep as much as she did. So when she finished her shower, she dried herself off and pulled her pajamas back on. After slipping her locket back around her neck, she toweled her hair dry as much as she could. When that was done, she left the bathroom and went to make herself some tea.
After putting the kettle on, she stood there, arms crossed, watching the kettle. She took it off the heat when it was ready, pulled a mug out of the cupboard and made her tea. She used the nerve-calming one she'd gotten from Svetlana. Oh she'd made note of the ingredients that were in both teas she'd gotten from Svetlana so she could make them for herself when she wanted instead of always asking Svetlana for some when she needed it. With her tea ready, she went over to the dining table, which had been cleared of the papers, notebooks and inventions. Now in its place was a chess board with a handful of pieces on it. She'd all ready put the pieces in place for trying to strategize against Moriarty.
Sitting down, Helena gazed at the handful of white pieces on the board. There was one rook, representing herself, which stood on the space beside where the queen was. The queen, representing Irene, was beside the rook. One knight, representing Myka, was placed on C3, putting one square between that piece and the rook. The king's bishop, representing Claudia, was placed on D3. The knight and the bishop stood as a vanguard to the rook and the queen. Helena turned her gaze to the far side of the board where only the black queen was on the board placed in her usual starting place. This piece, obviously, represented Moriarty. All ready Helena had attempted a couple possible methods of attack Moriarty may take, even demonstrated as much on the board. Sipping her tea and setting it down, Helena went about setting up the board. An idea suddenly came to her, and she decided to test it.
Once the board was fully set, Helena moved the white pieces according to her own strategies. But instead of simply playing against herself, she attempted to move the black pieces as Caturanga might were he attempting to teach her something. The man rarely, if ever, played the game the same way twice. Perhaps that was why she'd never beaten him in all the years she'd played with him. Hindsight now gave her enough knowledge to attempt playing the way he did. And Moriarty would undoubtedly be a bit unpredictable in his own methods. Really, it was perhaps a bit silly that she was using chess as a means to prepare herself for how Moriarty would attack her, but Helena was a visual person, and she needed to see things in front of her. She needed to know what worked and what didn't before she found herself between a rock and a hard place.
A few moves into the game, she felt a tingling on the back of her neck. Currently Helena's back was to Myka. No doubt the other woman had been awake at the very least since she'd started making her tea, but it was also probable she woke up at the sound of the running water in the shower. Which was most likely the more likely situation. After moving one of the white pieces, Helena turned her head slightly, letting Myka know she knew that she was awake. Then she turned back to the strategy she was trying to work. Helena really just wanted to lose herself within the game and allow her mind to unwind a little. The Victorian woman was a complete bundle of nerves, but she was trying so hard to keep it together. Though she could really do without the nightmares. They were now the reason she rarely got more than a couple hours of sleep at a time now. Perhaps those sleep aides wouldn't be so bad, but she wasn't exactly certain she wanted to sleep if all she saw was death by explosion.
"Oh bollocks," she cursed softly. Her nerves had just gotten the better of her and her hand trembled as she attempted to move a piece and knocked one over. But it was all right, she knew where the piece went and quickly returned it to its place. All right, she needed to concentrate. She took a long sip of her tea and studied the board carefully. All ready she was losing to herself, or rather losing to the Caturanga figure in the game. But that was expected as this was rather reflecting her current position in this mind game Moriarty had started. And she was damn well going to finish it because if she didn't, she was undoubtedly going to end up dead.