Day 70

Startled by a dream, Pete sat up with a sharp breath that raked across his chest, leaving a short-lived burning sensation in its wake. He stared at the card index drawers at the end of the couch for minutes before he looked across the Warehouse office. He was no longer in George Mallory's rope and he didn't feel Evil Pete inside him. He rubbed his face, realizing the dream had been real.

He dropped back on the couch and held his aching, throbbing head.

"Pete," he heard Artie say.

He lowered his hands. Artie waited with a glass of water in one hand and holding something in the other. Pete sat up again, accepting the glass. He held his hand out and Artie dropped two Tylenol in his palm. He swallowed the pills and water together and then slouched down on the couch, resting his aching head against the back of the furniture.

"Why don't you sleep some more?" Artie asked. "I'll call Myka and ask her to bring you something to eat. Anything in particular?"

In a hoarse voice, Pete told him, "I don't want anything and… Where is he?"

"Who?"

"Evil Pete."

"Oh. He's a genie now. He's trapped in, as irony would have it, Genna's old teapot. I thought it was a rather fitting end to him."

Pete reached up and massaged his temples. "I am so sorry, Artie. I—"

Sharp and sternly Artie ordered, "Do not ever apologize for anything that's happened. Do you understand me?"

Pete stared at him. Artie was angry for him saying sorry?

"Artie, I have to—"

"No. No!" Artie heaved a breath. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Pete's hands drifted to the couch. "That's not true. I—"

"All this time I thought you were doing this for grandiose reasons, that you were doing things without asking for help out of pride. But when you bronzed yourself and destroyed the machine I began to think I was wrong. I know you don't remember much from the last few weeks, but I asked you why you did all of this. You told me that you had to do it because there were seven people in the world you loved and had to protect, and you would die before you'd let Evil Pete hurt them. You didn't say the world, Pete. You said seven people – us. I take for granted my agents, Pete, and over time, with familiarity, I forget why each of you were chosen. Yes, you were chosen because of your military background, your excellent marksmanship, your vibes, and your instincts. Those are beneficial to you and this team." Artie shook his head a little. "But they are nothing compared to how good of a man you are and how large of a heart you have. So do not ever, ever, apologize about anything that's happened. I couldn't have made some of the choices you did, but in the end you saved the world when you protected the seven people you love."

Pete looked at the floor. "I couldn't save Genna."

Artie walked away. Pete thought this was over, that Artie couldn't deal with that, until he came back. He carried a very old book in his hands, one that was falling apart. He opened it and handed it to Pete. Pete took it and stared at a drawing of cave paintings.

"This cave is in Iran," Artie told him. "When Genna's DNA was entered in our database, it hit on bones found in this cave. There were bones from twenty people of various ages, and there were injuries on the bones to indicate they were murdered. Researchers believe this is her family – she was destined to die. There are some things that you just can't see coming and you couldn't stop them even if you could. I think you should be happy that she died knowing you gave her a second chance on life and that girl loved you, Pete, as much as you loved her."

Artie stopped talking. Pete stared at him. Minutes crawled by.

"Is there anything we need to talk about?" Artie asked.

"My head is killing me and my stomach can't decide if I need to hurl or not."

"Ah… I'll go get you a bucket. And more water."

Pete nodded. Artie hurried off to get the bucket. Pete rested his head against the back of the couch. He didn't look up when Artie sat the bucket on the floor and a water bottle next to his leg.

"I'll be down in the Warehouse." He turned to leave.

"Artie?"

He turned back. "Yeah."

"Maybe you could, uhm… I mean… Could, uhm… Don't you have some work or something up here to do? Something… Close by?"

Artie hesitated. "Maybe… Yeah. I'm sure I do. I could… I'll be right over here at the computer. Close by. Okay?"

Pete nodded. Artie took a step away and then stopped and patted Pete's shoulder. "Right. So. I'll be over here. Get some rest."

Pete picked up the bottle of water and hugged it to his chest as he slowly leaned over on the couch, keeping his eyes on Artie. Artie sat down at his computer and began working. For hours Pete dozed and woke, checking that Artie was still close by. Artie began muttering threats at the computers and the information he was looking up. The familiar sound lulled Pete into deep sleep where no dream invaded.

The End