Who: Anatoly Sergievsky and Myka Bering What: The aftermath of seeing things we don't want to remember When: After Myka's post, around 8:30 pm on 23 July 2012 Where: Random bar in Lawrence Warnings: Angst. Status: Thread/In Progress
Myka knew that she shouldn't have left Helena's. She knew that if she needed a drink, she could have had the left over vodka but she also knew that drinking around Helena when she was in this state was a bad idea. There were ways to ensure that she'd get back to the house in one piece after this, but right now, after what she had seen, she needed to get out and just... drink. She never allowed herself to think about what had happened, how could she? If she let herself feel, if she responded, she would fall apart and so, she didn't. And in four months, there had been so much that had gone on with Moriarty and worrying about Helena, with Pestilence and the side effects of the Janus Coin.... There had been no time to really think about it, to deal with it. So she hadn't. It had gotten pushed to the side. And now it was in the forefront of her mind. The complete feeling of being lost because everything was destroyed around her. Helena. The Warehouse. And Pete was still home in limbo. Artie. All of them. They didn't know what happened back home, and even if they did... Helena would still be dead. Steve. What did it matter?
As such, Myka had told the Victorian woman that she was going out to clear her mind even though she had a feeling that Helena well knew that she planned to go drinking. She wasn't an alcoholic. She didn't go to alcohol to solve all of her problems, but she felt rather justified in this moment. After the weekend, and then Kon's post on wanting to slow down time and the personal connotations that particular idea held for her, the secret service agent just... needed a drink and time alone.
She was sitting at the bar with her gin and tonic when her phone alerted her to more responses. Honestly, she didn't want to bother Anatoly with this. He had enough to worry about, his family, but he seemed rather insistent on this matter in making sure she was okay. And well, it was better she be with someone she at least knew and relatively trusted as opposed to a woman she really didn't know and her only real interaction had involved fighting on what to do in regards to Helena and Emily. As such she had told the Russian man where she was, half doubting he'd even bother showing up. He wasn't Pete. Pete who always knew what she needed even when she herself didn't.
God, she needed Pete right now. She needed his intuition, knowing who could be trusted. His ridiculous antics that made her roll her eyes and crack a smile no matter how stressed she was. Who played whatever role she needed from him, often the emotional and reckless one but able to be rational when she wasn't.
Downing the drink, Myka nodded to the bartender in regards to a refill. She knew it wouldn't solve anything. It wouldn't change the past but at least it would help her forget right now so she could rebuild her walls and focus on the issues at hand and not completely lose it. She'd been running on this since Steve's death, being all business. She had never let herself stop for fear of what it would do given what had happened after that moment.