Please Reblog If . . .

You have to admit: it is a good strategy to get away with the trope. If the said trope is truly invoked. Initial anger at the death of the lesbian gets lost in the confusion of “wait is she dead or not dead?”

Finale is called “return 0″. Question is which process are we referring to here and when it did begin.

For @drumchiksworld who asked for happy bering&wells.

The art kind of expanded into a mini-fic on last minute, so I apologize for the lack of beta. :)

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"Hi momma"

Myka nearly crashed at Helena who was still as a statue at the entrance to the dining room. She walked around her to see what the older woman was staring into the room with a stricken expression in her face. Myka’s gaze followed Helena’s to the little figure sitting near the Christmas tree holding onto a rag doll, staring at them with wide eyes. Myka knew that face, except it wasn’t a black and white photograph anymore. How?..

Helena took a step forward, then another one. She then sat down at the carpet grabbing the girl, Christina, into a tight hug, as if she was expecting her to vanish into air.

Myka’s gaze went around the room looking for a trick, an artifact, something to explain how H.G. Wells’ daughter, dead for over a century now, had suddenly appeared in the middle of the bed and dining room.

Like a Christmas present dropped under the tree. Myka thought absently. Actually, for all intents and purposes it was a Christmas present dropped under the tree she realized.

She heard a chuckle from behind her, another familiar presence that shouldn’t be here in this dining room, not anymore.

Myka’s eye went to the other side of the room, where there in the corner Leena’s last painting was sitting unfinished. Except, she noticed, the canvas was no longer unfinished. A lively scene of the team around the dining table, smiling and laughing in Leena’s meticulous style. It couldn’t possibly be an artifact now, that painting. Could it be?

It would be fitting. Leena, still looking after us Myka thought.

“It is your turn now to look after them” the voice echoed again. Although it was fainter now, Myka was certain this time that she wasn’t imagining it. “they will need you” Was this the artifact or Leena’s ghost? Did it matter?

Myka walked to the mother and daughter on the floor hugging both of them. Vibes were more Pete’s thing. However, Myka was somehow certain that this wasn’t a cruel illusion, and that Christina was here to stay. Helena turned to her tears on her face, hope and terror warring in her eyes. “Myka, I don’t understand...”

“Merry christmas” Myka simply said, and then kissed Helena softly.

Of course it was that moment that Artie’s angry voice boomed behind them. “What HAVE you done?”

It was going to be a very long Christmas day.