Warehouse 13

"The Distance Between"

By A. Rhea King

Chapter 1

Pete knew he had just arrived in this all too familiar place. The dusty gray floor, the light from above with no apparent source, the impenetrable blackness circling the light, these were as familiar as his own bedroom. He sighed and scrubbed his fingers over his head.

"Why am I here this time, Genna?" Pete asked.

He was tired. He hated this place. It reminded him of a horrific three months in his past. There were strange, terrifying noises in the darkness. Dreaming of this place every night kept him from good sleep. That left him tired and short-tempered, which in turn caused stress on all the relationships in his life.

There was no answer. He looked up. She stood across from him, holding her hands in front of her. Her expression was deadpan.

"Genna, why am I here?"

Her bottom lip slacked as she started to say something. Then she wilted and crumpled to the floor. Pete froze. That hadn't happened before. He started toward her.

"Do you really want to go to her?" someone asked him.

Pete stopped. That was a fair question.

"So now you want me dead, huh?" Genna asked.

Pete jumped. She was standing next to him, staring at the 'dead' version of herself. She turned her head, glaring at him.

"You do remember you're under hypnosis, don't you? And anything goes under hypnosis, including killing the person you freed."

"This is a dream," Pete told her.

"No. No it isn't. You never listen to me!"

Confused, Pete looked between the two Genna's, trying to figure out which was the hallucination.

"You are with a psychiatrist, and no, no one else knows. You asked her to help you stop dreaming about me. She suggested you try hypnosis. But it won't work because this is real and until you get back the memories of who I am."

"I don't know who you are!" Pete bellowed.

"You do, Pete. You know who I am."

"No, I don't," he said between gritted teeth. "Why do you keep bringing me here?"

She threw up her hands and let out a growl of frustration. "I am not the one bringing you here, Pete Lattimer! It was your wish. You made it. You keep bringing us here. That is why I have been searching for a way to break this bond between us because you are dragging me down with you!" She started crying. "And I am so tired, Pete! You bring me here, you leave me here, and then I don't get anything close to good sleep and I… I am so tired. I just want to sleep, Pete. Don't you?"

"She isn't dead?" the invisible stranger asked.

Pete was annoyed by that voice. He watched Genna cry, feeling guilty but not sure why. And yes, just one night of good sleep was all he wanted too. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't move closer or step away. She did, however, pull herself together.

"That voice is the psychiatrist, Pete," Genna told him.

"I want out of this," Pete said, turning away from Genna. "This isn't working. I want out."

"You have to confront her, Pete," the psychiatrist told him.

"You have to get your fucking memories back!" Genna said.

"Language!" Pete snapped at Genna.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," Genna repeated with a sneer. "I'm too old for this crap!"

"You're fourteen!"

"I'm ten thousand years old!"

"You don't act it."

"You don't act your age. I get that from you."

Somewhere 'My Humps' started playing.

Genna smirked. "That's Myka's ringtone. This attempt to exorcise me is over." Genna turned her back on him, her long hair swirling out to brush his arm. The sensation felt real. Pete looked at the crumpled version of Genna.

She blinked when he heard a cell phone start to ring again. Dead Genna told him, "Pete, answer your phone. You don't want Myka finding you here. She already think you're hitting the bottle again."

"She does not!" Pete told her.

"Does to," the Genna with her back to him said. "They all are wondering it right now."

"Neither of you know anything!"

Genna looked back over her shoulder. "Just wake up and get to Moose Jaw. Go find an artifact Pete." She turned her head, adding softly, "I'm always proud of that Pete."

That stung. What parts of him wasn't Genna proud of? Pete made a conscious decision he was done with this for now.

#

Pete sat up on the couch he had been lying on. It took him a moment to get his bearings. The office didn't look familiar right away, but his memories came back. This was the first time he'd been in the office, his first – and soon to be only – meeting with a psychiatrist.

"Pete," he heard her say behind him.

He made eye contact. She was a beautiful woman with long dark brown hair. Her glasses improved her look, making her look more mysterious then academic. Her expression showed great concern.

"I didn't bring you out of hypnosis, Pete," she told him.

Pete stood up, grabbing his coat. His cell phone started to ring again.

"I have to go. Thanks for trying." He headed for the door.

"Pete."

He stopped to turn around. She stood up. It caused her clothes to shift down, and under normal circumstances, he'd be moving in to convince that body to spend the night with him. But Genna was haunting his mind and she was affecting choices like that.

"You should come back," the woman told Pete.

He smiled. "Again, thanks for trying."

He was out the door and on his way to his SUV before the conversation could continue. He answered his cell phone when it started ringing again.

"Yes, Myka, I know I'm late. I will meet you at Leena's in fifteen minutes."

She sounded really frustrated when she said, "I should be used to this by now."

"I'm sorry. I'm… sorry."

"Hurry up. Artie was expecting you to meet for the briefing; you don't want to be here when he comes back."

"On my way." Pete hung up.

He exited the building into the South Dakota cool winter day. Snow sat in patches on the ground and his breath frosted on every exhale. Pete dug for his keys and climbed into his SUV. He sat for a couple of minutes, trying to find a calm place. It didn't take him long to realize he didn't have one right now. So he started the engine and headed back to Leena's instead.

#

Pete and Myka found their seats on the plane.

"Can I have the window?" Pete asked.

"No. I want it," Myka told him

"I want to sleep and if I take the window you won't have to wake me to go to the restroom."

She looked back at him, and then nodded.

Pete stored their carry-on bags and slid into the window seat. He laid his head back, feeling tiredness leech into his bones. He gave into it by closing his eyes.

He felt Myka sit down in the seat next to him. She let out a heavy sigh.

Pete was almost asleep when she said, "Don't you want to know what the assignment is? You haven't asked since you showed up at Leena's."

Pete's eyes drifted open and he turned his head. She was staring at him.

"No. You can brief me when we get there… There… Where are we going?"

"Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan."

The world stopped moving. His mind seized on the city name.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Pete didn't answer.

Myka looked away, sighing again. "Should I get you a drink?" she quietly snapped.

Pete's mouth went dry. Why was this happening to him?

"I am not drinking, Myka," Pete told her.

She didn't say anything. Pete leaned in, clutching her arm. She looked into his eyes.

"Myka, I swear on my life, I am not drinking. Please don't think that."

She looked away. "Then how do you explain everything?"

"What everything, Myka?"

She stared at him for a long moment before her expression softened.

"Get some sleep, Pete. You look tired."

Pete didn't move. She patted his hand.

"Get some sleep. We'll go over the assignment when we get there."

Pete sat back, staring out the window. His eyes didn't stay open long enough to watch them leave them leave the terminal.

Fast-Forward 1 Week

Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan

Pete was in close pursuit of the artifact thief. He was younger than Pete, but Pete had miles of running on him. The two turned into an alley blocked by a fence. The young man quickly scrambled up boxes and over, but in doing so lost some of his distance ahead of Pete.

The two men raced through a commodities Warehouse. The man grabbed boxes, carts, even people, throwing them in front of Pete to try stopping him. Pete blocked falling items, using handball strokes to send the rain of porcelain figurines, squeaky toys, cheap plastic toys, and cast iron knock-offs flying away from him.

The two men burst onto the loading dock of the Warehouse. The young man leapt off and raced out in front of a truck. The truck skidded to a stop to avoid hitting him. Pete ran along the loading dock until he found a better place to leap off. It closed the gap between them considerably. The man ran into another alley.

Pete leapt at the fence, grabbed a hold half way up and flipped over the top. He felt a piece of the metal cut into and down his hand. He landed on both feet and felt like he was losing his grip on something. He glanced at his bleeding hand before he lurched forward, in pursuit. The pain in his hand became a forgotten memory.

Ahead Pete saw his chance to stop this once and for all. With precise executed parkour moves, Pete leapt from the cement to springboard off the wall onto a dumpster lid. He leapt across the dumpster, grabbed the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder, swung out, and crashed down on the man.

Pete grabbed the man's coat, making sure he hit the ground first. It didn't really help Pete. In a tangle of body parts the two rolled along the cement. Pete's right arm slid through glass, slicing open his jacket and allowing the skin to slide along the cement. He felt the knee of his jeans rip and gravel ground into the skin.

He was suddenly overwhelmed with a free falling sensation compounded with intense fear. His hands scrabbled for something to stop his fall. The feeling ended with pain stabbing his right side, knocking the wind out of him. His vision darkened and he was sure he was about to pass out.

When his senses returned, He discovered he had a death grip on the thief's arm and his other arm was so tight around the man's throat he was nearly choking him. Myka was trying to pry Pete's arm away from the man's throat. Pete let go and let Myka take over.

She crouched in front of the man, holding one arm at an angle that it would snap if he dared to fight. He seemed to sense that and held still.

"Hi," Myka told him. "Now, as I was trying to tell you in your apartment, we're here for the amulet."

"I didn't steal nothing!" the man insisted

Pete stood and had to grab a hold of a dumpster to keep from falling from the strong wave of dizziness that washed over him. It brought with it a strong urge to vomit.

Myka glanced at him, but stayed focused on the thief.

"You didn't steal anything," Myka corrected, "And you did. It was an amulet that was in a thrift store. The store has video surveillance and we watched you steal it. Now, all we want is the amulet. We don't care about anything else."

Realizing he was on the losing end, the thief told her, "It's in my shorts."

"Really!" Pete said. "You couldn't have chosen a pocket or something?"

Myka smirked as she stood. Pete tried to look at them but the dizziness made six of them and intensified the nausea. By the time it passed, Myka was bagging the amulet and the man was running again. This time they weren't chasing him.

"Let's go home, Pete."

Pete leaned over, propping his hands against his knees. The nausea slowly passed.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I really hit the pavement when I caught him. It's not setting all that well."

"Did you know your hand is bleeding? And your chin, arm, knee... You're a mess. Is there any part of you not bleeding?"

"Yeah. My toes. Hey, did you get to see those awesome moves I made?"

She laughed. "You know what would have make it more awesome next time?"

"What?"

"Learning how to land and not practically choking the next guy."

"Ha-ha." Pete put his hands on his sides as the pain intensified a little.

"You okay?" Myka asked again. "You're a little pale."

"Side stitch. I haven't had one of these in a while. Just need to walk it off." The two started a slow stroll back to the SUV at the end of the alley. "Why do they always have to run?"

"Instinct, I think."

"Instinct?"

"They're guilty, usually, so they run. They think we care where they got the artifact from."

"We should start tranquilizing them as soon as they answer their door."

Myka shot him a look.

"Not like knock them out. Just enough to make them simmer down, sit down, and hear us out."

She smiled. "Okay. That's not so bad, then."

Pete grimaced when pain stabbed his right side.

"You okay?"

"I'm bleeding. Why do you keep asking me that?"

"Baby."

"Right, well, you, I jumped, and there was, and—" Myka started laughing. "Oh shut up!"

She laughed harder. "Do you need help into your seat? Do I need to get a ramp for you?"

Pete waved her off as he walked around to the passenger side. He climbed into the SUV and leaned back against the seat. The world began spinning again and the pain had grown a little more. Myka climbed into the driver's seat.

"Should we get something to eat?" she asked as she backed out of the alley.

Pete closed his eyes. "Maybe later. I just want to take a hot shower and sleep."

She put the SUV in drive and headed back to the hotel. "You sleep a lot during the day lately."

He didn't answer. She looked at him, finding he was already asleep. She frowned, but let him sleep.