A/N: So, this happened in some horrible season four timeline where Helena has returned to the warehouse, but was never with Nate, and IDK if it matters right now if Leena's alive or not. Let's assume not, let's assume this is the darkest timeline, kaythnaxbye. Also, thanks to reagancrew for beta-ing, all mistakes are still mine.

I should wait and reread this and then post, but it so tired and just need...please read and review.

Myka paced back and forth across the waiting room. The recirculated air around her was stale and cold and stifling. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a harsh glare on the too-shiny, too-clean tile floors. Nothing about the place was right; nothing was natural or comforting. Even the fern in the corner was artificial. This was wrong, all wrong. And quiet. The fact that the only sounds were the buzz of the lights and the occasional page on the intercom was disturbing. No building should be this…dead. The nurses kept glancing at Myka as she stalked the room; they were discussing Myka's legitimacy as 'next–of-kin' to Helena. There was no one on her paperwork, just 'W13,' which they couldn't decipher; regardless of how many times Myka explained it. She had even resorted to flashing her badge. Her real badge, not the IRS laminate Artie had told her to use in Univille. No, she showed them her real Secret Service badge; she shoved it in their faces as she tried to push past them to find Helena. They still hadn't let her in. The nurses told her that HG was still in surgery, that it would be a while and to take a seat, or go home and rest. Rest?! Myka thought. Ha! If Helena didn't wake up, she'd never rest again. It was several minutes before she thought to call Leena's and let everyone know what happened. Even then she wasn't sure how to explain it.

"Helena," Myka began, her voice showing how exasperated she was. "I'm sorry, okay? Whatever it was I did, I'm sorry."

Helena cast a dark glare towards Myka. "'Whatever it was'?" She snapped. "You don't even know?!"

"No, Helena, I don't." Myka turned back to the road. "If you would tell me what I did, I could apologize and I would never do it again. But I can't unless you tell me."

"So, you don't even think you did anything wrong, then, do you?!" Helena asked incredulously.

Myka rolled her eyes. "You're being ridiculous; just tell me so I can apologize."

"I'm ridiculous!? I'm not the one who was flirting with that…Neanderthal." She pumped as much venom as possible into the last word.

"What?" The agent asked. "You mean - you mean Mike?" She laughed.

"Did I do something to amuse you?" The Brit allowed the hurt to show in her voice. "Is it funny to you somehow?"

"No. Helena," Myka tried to explain. "Mike is just…he's a friend. We met on a case awhile back and we've kept in touch."

"He tried to kiss you. In front of me." Her arms were crossed in front of her chest.

"And I rebuffed his advances." Myka spoke as if she was explaining this to a child, and Helena didn't appreciate her tone. "I don't know what the problem is."

"You never told him who I was." Helena's eyes watered. "You're ashamed to tell people about me."

"Helena, I didn't tell him who you are because I didn't know how to explain it. I've never had…someone like you in my life before." Myka glanced over at her passenger. "I didn't want to say the wrong thing." She shook her head slightly. "Besides, Mike had already gotten us those tickets to the game and I didn't want to…" She wasn't sure why she hadn't just told him Helena was her girlfriend. She was - that wasn't the complicated part. It was just, Mike had been into her and she didn't know how to tell him she was with Helena without hurting his feelings.

"You were leading him on!" Helena accused sharply. "Myka, I'm ashamed of you! That is insulting to him and to me!" The tears were rolling down her cheeks now. "Just pull over."

"What?"

"Pull. Over." Helena practically screeched. "I can't do this right now, Myka."

Myka steered the SUV to the curb. "I don't know what you're crying about, HG. I'm here with you. I love you. Not him, you. I would never do anything t-to betray you. I would never cheat on you."

"I know!" The older woman cried out.

"Then what are you so upset about?!" Myka allowed her voice to rise as well.

Helena took a deep breath and reached for the car door. Myka grabbed her hand to stop her. "Myka," Helena looked into her eyes. "Please."

"Helena."

"Myka, let go." Helena pried her hand loose. "I'm just…"

"What are you doing?"

"I'll walk."

Myka scoffed. "It's four miles to Leena's. Just let me drive you home; we'll cool off there."

"Myka!" Helena yelled, loud enough for Myka to let go. "I'll walk." She repeated. "Let me go." She gathered her purse off the floorboards and started to get out. "I'm just, I'm hurt right now. And I can't get you to understand."

"Then stay and talk to me!" Myka interrupted.

Helena stepped out and slammed the door, waiting for Myka to roll down the window. "Just, be quiet, for now?"

"Helena," Myka tried.

"Later. Alright?" Helena nodded. "We can talk about this later, just go. Don't worry, 'kay? I'll walk."

The first phone call she made was to Doctor Vanessa. After that she called Claudia. She hadn't been sure what to say, exactly, so she did her best to mumble that she was at the hospital and Helena needed them. It was enough to get everyone there in minutes. Vanessa and Artie had been on a date in town, and so it was great timing (as if there's a good time to get hit by a drunk driver). Myka pounced on every doctor who walked into the waiting room. The rest of the team tried their best to calm her down, ensuring her that Helena was strong, A fighter. Vanessa even asked Artie if she should offer to get Myka something to 'calm her down' but he wisely shook his head that it was not a good idea. So far no one had any information for them. So far Myka hated everyone in this hospital. Finally someone came out and asked to speak to 'Meeka Burring'; Myka took that as her call.

They led her to a darkened room with a single bed in it. Good, Helena doesn't need to be sharing a room with anyone. Helena was lying still in the bed. No, she had been laid in the bed; Helena didn't sleep on her back. The doctor held up various x-rays and images, explaining the injury, but Myka didn't hear most of it. She just stared at the love of her life, lying sick in the small bed.

"Her locket." Myka stated, registering the gown wrapped around HG's slim form.

The doctor gave her a questioning look.

"Her necklace. The one she was wearing. It was her favorite." Myka swallowed the lump in her throat. "She'll never forgive me if I don't get it back for her."

He gave her another questioning look. "The EMT's probably cut it off."

"It's a little square pendent with a gold chain. It has a picture of a little girl in it." She continued, not hearing. "Where is it?!" Myka asked. "Just get it for her, okay?"

The doctor was not unused to families focusing on the wrong detail when a loved one fell ill, so he acquiesced. "I'll see what I can do." Myka pulled her eyes away long enough for the doctor to mention a severed spinal cord, possibly permanent. He told her that the reflexes were still there, but Helena wasn't able to feel or move her limbs on her own. He said she could get better. Only time would tell.

Myka was waiting at home, expecting Helena to call any minute to ask for her to pick her up. To let her apologize. But mostly to come home.

The phone rang in her hand. 'HELENA' flashed on the screen. She wasted no time answering. "Baby? I'm sorry? Where are you?"

"Ma'am?" It was a man's voice. "Ma'am, I'm here with a woman, ID says her name is Helena?"

"Yes." Myka answered.

"She's been in an accident. If you could meet us at the hospital in Uni—"

"I'm on my way." She hung up. Apparently, the hospital had called Myka because she was the last dialed number in HG's cell phone (one of the only dialed numbers, really). Myka was never so thankful for Helena's lack of a social life. If anyone else had been called she might not have found out soon enough. As it was, there was little she could do. Myka kicked herself the whole drive there. Why? Why indeed. Why hadn't she stayed with Helena? Why hadn't she just apologized for what she did? Why hadn't she introduced Helena to Mike, and told him how madly in love she was with the woman? Would it have been so hard? Why had Helena insisted on that damn black dress? If she'd been wearing a lighter color, maybe…

It wouldn't have mattered, Myka discovered. The driver who hit Helena had been drunk. From what she'd been told he'd jumped the sidewalk and Helena had been standing in just the wrong place that she was thrown several yards. At first they thought she was dead, she hadn't moved or reacted, her breath was weak and pulse thready. But she'd pulled through enough for them to transport her to the ER.

Time had never been a friend to Helena Wells. If ever it had been, she was unaware. She supposed it was better this way…to die having lived two short lives, rather than to die after only one. But ,she still wished she had had more time. Given the chance, she would do it again, differently, of course. But she would live it all again, even if she couldn't change it. Mostly, she would change things with Myka. She would tell her she loved her more, she would spend more time holding her, she would have cooked her favorite meal more often, and read her favorite book to her one more time…Funny, those were the same things she would have done with Christina. Maybe our lives really are set in stone. Except this time, Helena was not the one crying over a limp body. This time it was Myka, laying her cheek on Helena's chest, listening to her shallow breaths. It took Helena a moment, to realize that she wasn't dreaming. It was like a dream, at first; everything was pale and bright, there was a faint, constant white noise, and she couldn't move. She could smell Myka lying near her. A subtle mix of sandalwood and rose. She tried to talk, but her throat was sore and dry. She finally managed to croak out a sound that got Myka's attention.

She shot up quickly. "Helena?" It was a gasp. "Are you…awake?"

Helena nodded; she still couldn't talk so she made an over-exaggerated effort to lick her lips.

"Are you thirsty?" Myka guessed.

Clever girl. Helena nodded, sending Myka scurrying to get her a glass. She helped Helena sit up by tilting the bed, and pressed the cup to her lips. "How are you?" She asked, pulling the glass away.

I don't know. Helena thought. "What happened?" She decided it was a worthwhile question.

"You were walking home, and there was a drunk driver and he hit you with his car and now you're here and," Myka sobbed. "Helena, you scared me so much. I thought you were dead."

"Wouldn't be the first time." She smiled. Her eyes closed as she tried to feel her body. "I think I need to go to the bathroom."

"You have a catheter." Myka offered. "Or I can get a nurse. But you should just be able to pee."

Helena gave her a disgusted look. "I can't. I'm in bed."

"No, it's—"

"I know what it means, Myka, but I can't. I need to get up." Helena saw the distress in her girlfriend's face. "Myka, help me get up."

"I can't, you aren't supposed to—"

"Why can't I move my legs?!" Helena barked.

"They've given you something to help keep you from hurting yourself!" Myka answered, then less surely. "Your spine may have been injured, as well."

"Meaning?" Helena asked urgently. "Am I a cripple?"

"No!" The brunette snapped. "You're going to be okay. You'll just need some time."

Helena smiled weakly. "You're lying, Even I can see that." She tried to move herself again. Nothing. "Myka." She repeated, this time less angry and more desperate. "Myka, please."

Myka started to cry. "I'm sorry," was all she could manage.

"I can't move," Helena finally gripped. "I can't feel anything in my extremities." She closed her eyes and tried to sense each of her limbs. "Are they still there?"

"Yes." Myka supplied. "Just not…working." She swallowed the lump in her throat again.

Helena bit her lip, she wanted to run her fingers through her hair, but her arms wouldn't work. "Will I…Is this temporary?"

"The doctor said it might be." Myka touched Helena's cheek gently. "But I looked at the MRI…"

"I won't walk again, will I?" Helena asked, strangely calm.

"Miracles happen, Helena." Myka tried to reassure her. "People get told they will never recover, but they do, it happens."

"A miracle?" Helena laughed bitterly. "Myka those don't happen. Not to me."

"Do you need some time to figure this out?" Myka asked. "I should probably tell the nurse you're up."

"No." Helena shook her head. "What are those machines?" She gestured with her chin.

"I'm not certain." Myka looked at them for the first time. "Life support type stuff, I guess."

"Life support?" Helena looked at the machines. "Those are what's keeping me alive?"

"I think so." Myka looked over the tubes and hoses, looking at what they went to and where they connected. "Kidney, lungs, heart, fluids…." She mumbled, and then nodded. "Yeah. Various degrees and whatnot, but, yes, those are helping you."

"What..." Helena considered her question. "What would happen if I wasn't attached to them? Or if they were turned off?"

"You'd die."

"How long will they keep me alive?" Helena asked.

"I'm not sure…" Myka whispered.

"As long as it takes to get you better, Agent Wells." Doctor Calder answered, having slipped in unnoticed at some point.

Helena tried to smile. "Dr. Calder, how nice to see you again. I'm sorry to bring you out so late."

"I was already in town, Myka—"

"She was in town to see Artie." Myka cut in.

Vanessa gave her an inquiring look, but left it alone. "Yes, well, I assure you, Helena, these machines will get you back in shape; you'll feel a hundred and twenty again."

Helena ignored the joke. "May I speak with you alone, doctor?"

Vanessa nodded and directed Myka to the waiting room.

Myka had planned to tell Helena that evening. Not over dinner, like it was something to celebrate, but not with everyone else around either. As it was, she had only barely told Pete. And she hadn't wanted to, it just…happened. Vanessa, of course, had access to her medical records and had called Myka the next day to discuss the best treatments. But, HG was more important than Pete or Claudia or anyone. Myka had to plan how to tell HG so she wouldn't react…badly. Not like there was anything for Helena to do. Myka was dying. The tests proved it. The cancer may have started as ovarian, but with a few tests the truth was revealed: brain, ovaries, lungs…the cancer had spread like, well, cancer. There were no reasonable treatments, and to be honest, Myka was a little worried that Helena might try to use an artifact to save her. She didn't want that. It hadn't taken Myka long to realize she wasn't going to fight it. One trip to the oncologist, that's all it took. One time sitting in an office surrounded by people, people who had once been strong and healthy, who were dying; they were losing hair, coughing up blood, vomiting, most were lugging around O2 tanks, just so they could breathe.

No. Myka didn't want to go out like that. She didn't want to be kept alive, struggling through the last days of her life just for air, just to make it from one moment to the next. There was no way she would die without anything left. She wanted to die with dignity. She wanted to die on her own terms, not because the poison pumping into her veins wasn't strong enough.

But how could she explain that to Helena? Helena: who loved her more than anything. There was no way that Helena would understand Myka's decision to give up. Not when there was science and artifacts to save her.

Myka swallowed dryly, perching herself on the edge of Helena's bed. "Doc said you want to talk to me?"

"Yes," Helena nodded. "Actually she said you might want to tell me something." She nodded encouragingly.

Myka looked down. "I have cancer." She sighed. "I have cancer, everywhere. I'm dying."

Helena was speechless.

"And I'm not fighting it."

"Why not?" Helena objected.

"For one thing, it won't work. And for another…" Myka looked into her love's eyes. "You just told me that you don't want some machines keeping you alive…I don't want that either."

Helena nodded quietly. "Vanessa said we would need two."

"Two what?" Myka asked.

Helena nodded to the table beside her. There were two syringes, unlabeled, but full. "She didn't say what it was…only that…"

"You're sure?" Myka asked, inspecting one of the needles. "She said—"

"I don't think Vanessa would lie to two dying woman." Helena turned the corners of her mouth up, not a smile, but an attempt if nothing else. "Do you?"

"No…" Myka help one dose up for the Brit to see. "Did she say..?"

"She said to put it in the IV, so I guess the back of your hand would work." Helena tried to bite at the tubing to drag it in reach.

"Wait." Myka lay down next to her love. "Are you sure? There's still a chance you could be okay."

Helena shook her head. "I couldn't live without you." She kissed the top of Myka's curly hair. "I love you, Myka Ophelia Bering."

"And I love you, Helena George Wells." Myka leaned up to meet HG's pale lips. "I guess, we should say..."

"Not goodbye, darling." Helena smiled a sad, but real smile. "We never do goodbye well, and it never sticks."

"So, perhaps for luck?" Myka offered. She inserted the needle into the IV injection point, but left it there, then she tapped the back of her hand until she found a suitable vein. She inserted the needle there as well.

"Righty-ho, then." Helena conceded. "Like old times. Wells and Bering."

Myka tucked herself more neatly into Helena's side and pressed a final kiss to her love's lips. With both hands at once, she depressed the plungers, injecting the fluid into their bodies simultaneously. In her final breath, as she felt the medication take over she whispered. "Bering and Wells."

Jesus fuck, I am a horrible, horrible person. Considering an epilogue…not sure yet. Please review.