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Chapter Text

The gateway had been discovered and the plan was to leave in the morning. Helen watched John walk out of the library. Compulsion had her going after him. She caught up to him, her hand touching his back. “John, wait…” she said softly. Her fingers curled into the leather, hearing the way it groaned. Then, she let go. He turned to her, the soft pleading in his eyes had her moving in close to him. Confronted by her mortality, she couldn’t help but admit how much she missed John and how much she still cared. “Morning is quite a few hours away,” she whispered.

“Don’t start something you can’t handle,” John warned in a dark, velvety voice. Being close to Helen reminded him too much of all that he lost. There were moments where they could share the same space, but they were few and far between. The energy elemental he was enslaved by wouldn’t allow him a moments peace – unless drugs were involved. Chasing the dragon had given him sweet relief from the constant dark thoughts.

“Oh, I can handle you,” Helen promised. She gripped the leather lapel of his jacket, pulling him down for a little kiss. Their lips touched and it was enough to ignite the passion that always simmered between them. “I have strength enough for this,” she assured him when he pulled back, his eyes searching hers.

John took a step back, a modicum amount of common sense returning to him. There was a flash of hurt over his perceived rejection. It was just the opposite. “Promise me something,” he replied, holding her gaze. He wanted nothing more than to spend the night with her, rekindling old passions that they longed for.

“What?” Helen asked, staying where she was. She could see he was tempted to vanish. The EM shield was down. He could be on the other side of the world in an instant until both of their lustful intent cooled. She could see he was trying to be better.

“Do whatever you have to do to live through this,” John answered. This course of action was set. She was committed to going to the gateway.  He feared Adam had things set in motion that would end up claiming her life.

Helen reached out to him, her hand cupping his scarred cheek, her thumb caressing the old wound she had inflicted. With a pain filled expression, he leaned into her touch. “Don’t worry, I won’t go gently into that good night,” she replied. When he looked at her, she rewarded him with a small, confident smirk.

John quickly pulled her close making her gasp in surprise, teleporting them to her bedroom. The last glimpse he had of the library doors was Nikola standing there, watching the whole exchange. When his energy dissipated, he gave her a wolfish grin. “How will we pass the time?” he asked wickedly.

“I have a few ideas,” Helen remarked, biting her bottom lip. She rested her hands on his chest, slipping them up under his leather coat. Slowly, she pushed the garment down his arms, until it dropped to the floor with an audible thud. Tonight was an escape for her. She wanted to lose herself in the pleasure they both could share with each other.

“I’m sure you do,” John agreed. His hands didn’t remain idle. He yanked free the belt cinched at her waist, opening her jacket and in turn pulled it down her arms, freeing her from its hold. She was left in a scooped neck black t-shirt, leggings, and her boots. He almost longed for the days of multiple layers to their clothing. It helped to heighten the moment, to prolong the burning. “These modern fashions leave nothing to the imagination,” he commented dryly.

“I do admit I miss you in a good Victorian suit,” Helen responded, agreeing up to a point. She didn’t miss the restrictive layers she had to wear. The sexual revolution had been well overdue in her personal opinion. Moving in close to him, she rested her hands on his sides. She slipped her right hand under the hem of his turtleneck, lightly raking her short nails across the small of his back.

John shuddered, leaning over her, pressing his forehead against hers. Having her hands on him like this was nearly more than he could bear. Perhaps it was he who couldn’t handle what she was starting. If he was better man, then he would put a stop to this. He wasn’t. Angling his head, he captured her lips with a searing kiss. She arched into him, her arms draping over his shoulders. John gripped the back of her thighs, lifting her with ease. He turned towards the bed and set her down. Their lips parted, both of them panting as they stared at one another.

Helen looked at John as he stood between her knees. He gave her a rueful grin as he gripped her left calf, lifting her leg so that he might divest her of one of her boots. The zipper was loud as he drew it down. He pulled it from her foot, dropping it to the floor. She watched with rapt attention as he repeated his actions. He always moved with precision no matter what he did. Helen lifted her shirt, arching her back to pull it up her body. When it came over her head, she cast it away, daring him to continue.

John ran his hands over the top of her thighs giving them a little squeeze as he leaned over her. He started to laugh when she tugged on his turtleneck, wanting to strip it from his body. She never had much patience when it came to seduction. He let her pull it off him, watching as she tossed it over her head to disappear over the side of the bed. John was soon drawn back to her lips, to the pleasure of her kiss. He swept his tongue into her mouth, dominating her senses, drowning out everything that wasn’t him.

Helen draped her arms over his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles of his back. She braced her heels on the edge of the bed, pushing herself back into the center, dragging him with her, forcing him to kneel on the mattress just to keep their lips from parting. When she had him far enough up, she rolled them, putting herself on top. This time, he was the one looking up at her with hunger in his eyes and his hands on her hips. She made sure he kept watching her as she got off him.

John licked his lips at the sight of Helen standing between his parted knees. She had her hands on his thighs, giving them a generous squeeze in return. He growled for her, knowing it was a sound that fueled her passion. John propped himself up to watch what she was doing. She took a half step back and bent down to grip his ankle. A darkly amused chuckle filled the bedroom. Methodically, she pulled the black shoe off his foot to toss over her shoulder. She gave him a wicked little wink while she pulled off the dress sock as well. His passion for her calmed for a moment while she took off his right shoe. In times gone by their encounters had been marked by pawing and heated kisses that left them gasping for air. This was something else. When she was through, he sat up, sliding off the edge of the bed to stand before her once more.

Helen lifted her right hand, touching the tips of her fingers to his chest, drawing them down slowly. He issued a shuddering sigh mixed moan, settling his hands on her hips once more. The fierce desire they had for the other was still there, lingering beneath the surface, not having been tempered by time. She could take full advantage of exploring his body if only for a moment. It had not changed since the last time they lay together. The benefits of the source blood.

John closed his eyes, licking his bottom lip before biting it. The feel of Helen touching him again had his desire rising to a fever pitch. He wanted her, wanted to be inside her. His body was dying to have her. “Helen…” he moaned her name, pleading with her to touch him more.  Giving him what he was craving, she moved in close, pressing her lips to the center of his chest. He brought his hands up, cupping the back of her head, his fingers threaded through the silky strands. John tilted her head back until their eyes were locked together once more and he could see the passion in her blue depths.

Helen draped her arms over his strong shoulders, getting lost in the power of his gaze. He drew his hands down, settling them once more on her hips. She nodded, giving him consent to do what he wanted. John deftly picked her up, laying her down on the bed once more. He pressed a little kiss to her stomach. She got to watch him free the button of her pants, pulling them down her hips, and off her legs, leaving her in nothing but her underwear. He knelt down, taking her right calf in his grip. She whimpered when he placed a little kiss to the inside her knee, working his way up to playfully nip the inside of her thigh. He lavished attention on her. “John…” Helen moaned his name.

John got on the bed, straddling her, taking her hands in his, pinning them above her head. He was giving her the chance to stop this before it went any further. She licked her lips, enticing him to kiss her. Neither of them were interested in exercising much common sense. He released her hands, pulling back from her. She didn’t let him get too far. Helen immediately yanked open his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He gave her a little wicked chuckle, enjoying her impatience.

Helen pushed John down to the bed, moving astride his thighs. He sat up, his arms going around her waist. With their eyes on one another, she slid her hand down between their bodies, wrapping her fingers around his semi-erect shaft. His lips parted and a soft gasp escaped him. She leaned down, kissing him, plundering his mouth ruthlessly as she stroked him faster, making him hard.

John didn’t remain idle. He cupped her backside, giving her a good squeeze, making her moan into his mouth. Their lips broke apart and their foreheads touched, gasping together. John brought his hands up, his nimble fingers undoing the closure. She took her hand away from him, letting him take the garment from her body. He saw her mostly naked for the first time in over a hundred years. The sight of her took his breath away.  Taking her to the bed beneath him, he kissed his was down her body.

The rest of their clothing had been cast to the floor. Helen was lying under John, savoring having him against her, looming over her. It shouldn’t surprise her that they still fit together in this way. Despite the long years between them, their bodies still remembered what it felt like to be pressed together. Her insides fluttered at the anticipation of having him inside her again. She cupped his face, stroking his cheek

John reached down between them, taking his hard length in hand, positioning himself at her entrance. She gave him a little nod. He slowly entered her; intensely aware they had not done this in a long time. They moaned together and then sighed as if the world finally made sense again. “You let me do all the work,” he whispered against her lips.

“John…” Helen nearly argued but was soon reduced to a few unintelligible moans when he moved, driving into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nodding as best she could. At first his pace was slow, deliberate to bring them both as much pleasure as possible.  Each thrust was long and drawn out. Helen pushed her head back into the pillow, her eyes closing, little moans filling the bedroom.

John was losing himself in the pleasure of Helen’s body. He drove into her, flexing his hips, finding that right spot that would have her coming undone in his arms. She was gasping and moaning, kissing him sporadically. One thrust had her clutching at him, crying out in pleasure. He made sure to find that spot again and again until he felt her body tensing. John would soon follow her over the edge of pleasure, not having shared an intimate connection with her in quite some time. He drove into her and triggered her orgasm. She cried out against his mouth as her inner muscles clamped down on him. His body came moments later, his shaft pulsing inside her. It took him a few minutes to stop trembling.

Helen’s mind was nearly blank. John fell to her side, bringing her in against his side, her head resting on his chest. She could hear the way his heart beat wildly out of control. “You don’t think we’re finished, do you?” Helen inquired wryly. She moved astride his thighs, her hands taking his. For the next few hours, she didn’t want to think.

“That thought never entered my mind,” John replied wearing a wolfish grin. She placed his hands on her hips, nodding to him, letting him know she was giving herself over to him. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist, holding her comfortably against him. Angling his head, he waited for her to kiss him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn’t until dawn when their passions finally cooled. Helen was lying under John once more, stretched across the bed, having experienced her latest orgasm of the night. She couldn’t help the broken little laugh as her mind started to go hazy. “We still do that very well,” she said in between gasps for air.

“Sex was never our problem,” John agreed, his face hidden against the side of her neck. She was shaking under him. He started to move, but she tightened her hold on him. “Helen, I don’t want to crush you,” he muttered.

“I want you stay where you are for a moment,” Helen said, her eyes pleading with him when he looked at her.

John compromised by holding himself above her on his forearms while keeping their lower bodies joined together. He wasn’t ready to leave her. “Not to be vulgar about this, but,” he started to say and then leaned down, stealing a little kiss. “We haven’t been very careful these last few hours, and I have come inside you four times…”

“Are you asking if I can still get pregnant?” Helen needed a little clarification.

“We’re not exactly withering on the vine. I’m still pretty virile,” John responded, a little growl colored his words as he flexed his hips drawing a little moan from her. It was a playful moment and by the next second the mood had turned.

“John, I’m dying. A baby isn’t high on my list of concerns right now,” Helen answered him honestly.

“We’ll get you to the city and they’ll cure you,” John reminded her. He doubted that the denizens of Hollow Earth would be so kind, but a few paltry words would be enough to keep her hope alive.

“Perhaps they can do something for you too,” Helen replied, bringing her hand up to trace the scar on his face. She hadn’t lost hope that John could be separated from the energy elemental that he was keeping contained inside him to keep the world from suffering.

“Now that’s wishful thinking,” John responded, meaning it to be a joke. He didn’t want to get his hopes too high that he could be separated from his murderous demon. Rather than continue to dwell on what would and would not happen, John moved onto his back, bringing Helen with him, resting her head on his chest once more. “Get some sleep, we’ll be leaving in a few hours,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

MORNING:

Helen looked up when Nikola walked in, followed closely by John. The former vampire had the shield in his hand, marveling at his work. “It works now?” she asked, glancing over at John. He wore his usual expression of quiet annoyance where Telsa was concerned.

“I’m surprised it does, honestly. I mean the paltry supplies of lanthanide you keep on hand is sad,” Nikola bemoaned.

“If you needed more, why didn’t you say so?” John asked. “It wouldn’t have been hard for me to get it.” It wasn’t as if he wasn’t already teleporting all around the world. A quick hop to pick up some need material for the vampire shield wouldn’t have been much of an effort.

“Yeah, why didn’t I say…?” Nikola wondered, rubbing at the back of his head.

“Because you like to complain,” Helen stated. “Does the shield work or not?”

“Of course it works. Did you doubt me?” Nikola asked.

Helen made a face.

“That was rude,” Nikola remarked.

“Hand it over,” Helen said, holding out her hand.

Instinctively, Nikola moved it out of reach. “Why do you get to go with Huey, Dewy, and Screwy? They won’t have the lightest inkling of how to appreciate a city of such splendor and architecture,” he whined. Before she could answer, John snatched it out of his hand, daring him to fight back.

John moved in close to Helen, taking her right wrist, fitting the vampire shield in place. “I’m staying with you at the gateway,” he stated in a low voice.

“There’s only one shield,” Helen said, trying to deter any argument from him.

“Yes because Mr. Arrogant assumed he’d be the one to go,” John remarked with a tiny growl to his voice.

“Hey!” Nikola protested.

“The grownups are talking Nikola, do shut up,” John snarled, flicking a glance over his shoulder that promised violence should he be ignored.

“John, I need you here, keeping an eye on Worth,” Helen said, wanting to divert his attention away from the current argument.

John rolled his eyes. “For once in your life, will you do as I tell you?” he asked harshly. The room went deathly quiet, forcing John to take Helen by the arm, teleporting them to another part of the Sanctuary.

“What the hell just happened?!” Kate exclaimed.

“They only get like this after they’ve had sex,” Nikola announced in disgust.

“I’m sorry, what?!” Will and Henry shouted at the same time.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The moment they appeared; Helen shoved him as hard as she could. “Damnit! John, this is not a game!” she raged. The last thing she needed from him was an argument.

“It’s not, and I’m not treating it as such,” John responded, his voice low and carefully controlled. “If my history of altruism is just behind that of a scorpion, then Adam bloody Worth is a hundred miles behind me.” He was careful to not a make himself seem threating as he took a step towards her. “This is about the preservation of your life. I refuse to be chained up here, like some guard dog waiting for the order to attack and kill.” He saw the flash of guilt flit through her eyes.

“John, I have to go,” Helen stated, not looking at him. She couldn’t handle the look of devastation in his eyes.

“I’m not saying don’t go,” John clarified. “You are walking into a situation that you will have no control over with information garnered from a psychopath who does not have your wellbeing at heart. I’m talking about Hyde; in case you need the clarification.”

“Because my wellbeing has mattered so much to you over these last few years,” Helen snapped, knowing immediately that she couldn’t call those words back.

“You’re quite happy to use me when it suits you most. Killer. Taxi service. Sex partner. Where was your concern for my wellbeing?” John asked, his voice taking on a hard edge. “Have you even tried to find a way to take this thing out of me? Hmm? No? I’m shocked.”

“John…” Helen said his name harshly and with anguish in her voice. She had thought of little else for months after he re-bonded with the creature. Then, when she made no progress, she made the assumption John was dead. It took Nikola being caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar for her to realize that she had written the man she still loved off. She lowered her head, covering her face with her hands.

“Helen, if you order me back here, Worth with talk and talk and he will dig his fingers into that nerve that will make me do whatever he wants. He’ll whisper words of warning that you’re in danger and I’ll listen. I won’t be able to help it.” John drew closer to her. She still didn’t look at him. “My instincts tell me not to leave your side. This city, those people may not be benevolent and cure you out of the goodness of their hearts.”

“My father is down there…” Helen started to argue.

“You have no way of knowing if he’s a friend or a prisoner,” John interrupted.

“You can’t go with me,” Helen said again. “Nikola only made one shield.”

“With my powers, it won’t matter,” John argued. “These people aren’t going to be very receptive to us either way. In their eyes, we’re as good as vampires – powers and all.”

“We don’t know what defenses they have at the gateway,” Helen was arguing halfheartedly.

“That’s my point, Helen, we don’t know anything about them or how they will react to our intrusion,” John responded quickly.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this argument, haven’t you?” Helen accused.

“When would I have had the time between opium binges, nearly overdosing, being sedated, detoxed, taking you all over the world looking for that keystone, to satisfying your primal urges last night?” John asked, recounting their recent adventures. “It’s not like I’m some sort of genius who is capable of multiple lines of thought… Oh, wait…” He snapped his fingers in a sarcastic manner.

“Alright, you stay with me at the gateway, but if you trigger that detector… So, help me God, John….” Helen warned. She was getting tired of arguing. Which, she was sure, was the point of all of this. The comfortable euphoria from their intimate activities had vanished the moment the sun had come up.

“If I do, then I will leave,” John agreed. Then he said, “One of these days you will have to admit that you don’t have the right solution to every problem.” He moved quickly, teleporting them back to her office, stalling any scathing remark she would have made.

They appeared, making the three mortals jump. “Are we ready to go?” Helen asked, setting aside all that was said between her and John.

“Clothing still intact, I see,” Nikola remarked under his breath.

John didn’t rise to the bait. “While we’re gone, do keep Worth sedated until he can do nothing but drool,” he said, reaching out to grip William by the shoulder.

“So, I get to play nursemaid to that little psycho? Where will you be?” Nikola asked in a huff. John said nothing as he teleported away with Helen and Will. Seconds later, he came back, and then was gone again with Henry and Kate. “I hate him,” he grumbled, heading out of the office and down to the lab to sedate Worth. He’d do that at least for his own sanity.

HOLLOW EARTH GATEWAY:

“Isn’t it time to send him back?!” Will shouted over the roar of the mountain wind.

“John’s staying!” Helen shouted her reply, trying not to look at him. She turned Will around, fishing the keystone out of his pack. The wind was blowing too fast, sending flakes of snow across her vision. Before she could even ask, he was there, crowding around her, shielding her from the harsh elements. She could at least hear herself think again.

Will made his way over, mindful of the watchful glance Druitt had him under. He cleaned away the snow that had been covering the markings, revealing where the keystone was to be placed. They worked quickly, fitting the device into place. The massive wall started to move. Gears ground to a halt moments later. “What?!”

“There’s ice blocking it over here!” Henry shouted.

“John, can you see if there’s an opening?!” Helen called out over the roar of the wind. She had already removed the keystone, putting it in her pocket.

John nodded, switching places with Will. He wedged himself close to the stone, trying to peer into the darkness. “Do you have a torch?!” Helen moved in close, putting a flashlight in his hand. Clicking it on, he held it up. The white light cut through the black revealing the opening. “I can get us in there!” he shouted, pocketing the light. There wasn’t any point in announcing his intentions. John made quick work of teleporting them inside.

Helen had shed her parka when John returned with Kate and Henry. She made sure to keep her distance from the vampire detector. John came up to her side, removing his gloves and unbuttoning his leather jacket. He removed the scarf, shoving it into a pocket, before draping the garment over hers on the nearest boulder. She tried not to see the tension in him. It was the same that resided inside her.

John stalked around the cavern, moving over to the large amber-like cylinders on either side of what he assumed was the detector. There was a gap between the amber and the rock. “I think I found my way in,” he remarked, drawing Helen’s attention to him. “If you don’t have faith in Tesla’s little shield, I could slip you in this way too,” he offered when he saw her quick glance of concern at her wrist.

“You last,” Helen stated. He nodded, moving back. She fiddled with the vampire shield and was about to step up to the detector when Will stopped her with his hand on her shoulder.

“Maybe let us three non-vampires go first,” Will suggested, dropping his hand when he felt the weight of Druitt’s stare on his back. “Then, it might not be so harsh on you,” he added, looking at Magnus.

Helen stepped aside, moving back next to John. They both shared a look, silently agreeing to stay back from the detector unless it had some sort of proximity sensor to it. She watched as Will went through first with no resistance. Kate followed suit with the same result. Henry winced as he walked through, scared that his abnormal nature would set it off. When nothing happened, he visibly relaxed.

John rested his hand on the small of Helen’s back and then stepped back, giving her space. He watched her walk into the scanner. It turned red and he was about to intervene.

“Come on, Nikola,” Helen muttered, feeling John’s need to do something. The scanner turned white, clearing her. She breathed a sigh of relief, walking forward. Looking back to him, she nodded.

John breathed out a careful breath, avoiding getting too close to the scanner. He stood by the amber cylinder and peered through the small opening. Using his powers, he appeared on the other side, but not where he thought he would.

Helen reached out, gripping the front of John’s shirt the moment he appeared in front of her. He was dangerously close to the vampire detector. She hauled him away from it, pulling him close to her. “What did I tell you about getting too close to that?” she scolded him, her hands dropping down to his waist before she thought better of it.

John set his hands on Helen’s shoulders, not bothering to make light of their current stance. “I should have arrived behind you,” he muttered. “There’s some sort of mild interference. I can feel it.” He raked a scathing glare over the detector, already irritated with the circumstances. Nothing was ever simple.

“Lode stone?” Helen asked, immediately switching to problem solving mode. John was known for a certain finesse with his powers. If something threw him off course, even a little, it could mean trouble for them later on.

“The rock face seems normal enough,” John answered. “It might be the detector and whatever frequency it operates at,” he offered, his attention on her again.

Helen patted John’s side, telling him they should move away. As they took those first few steps together, the detector reacted, turning into some sort of shield, preventing them from walking back out. “That’s not good,” Helen muttered, sharing a look with John.

Kate and Henry reacted by climbing up into a little alcove in the wall.

Will moved around both of the Victorians, stretching out his leg, touching the tip of his boot to the barrier. It zapped him, forcing him to hop back.

John scoffed, leaning close to Helen to ask, “I thought you said he was smart?”

Before Helen could issue a reply, the gateway rumbled. John reacted, pinning her up against the wall, shielding her with his body as the mountain was rocked with an earthquake.  While she was concealed, she let her hands cutch at the front of his shirt holding him close.

Seconds later, the shaking stopped. John reluctantly pulled back so he could look at Helen’s face. “Are you alright?” he inquired.

“You have me pinned against a rock,” Helen responded.

“It’s not the first hard place I’ve had you,” John replied with a little inuendo. He backed away slightly, giving her a little breathing room.

Helen shook her head, looking around him, seeing Will nearby. “You in one piece?” she asked, staying where she was close to John.

Will coughed, nodding. “Yeah, I’ve got all my fingers and toes, and I can count to ten.”

John rolled his eyes, muttering, “Wonderful.”

“Henry? Kate?” Helen called out, ignoring John’s snide remark. Silence was the only response.

“They were up on that ledge when the shaking started,” Will said, going over, seeing rocks wedged in the space.

“We can’t get to them. We’ll have to move on and trust they’ll make their way towards the city,” Helen said, having joined Will, examining the ledge, seeing if there was a way to get to their friends.

“If they know which way to go,” Will commented, the worry in his tone.

“Do we?” Helen responded.

“Helen, this barrier is getting closer,” John said, having kept his attention on it while the other two voiced their concerns. He backed away, taking her arm in his hand, pulling her with him.

“It’s herding us like cattle,” Will remarked, keeping pace with the Druitt and Magnus.

“That never ends well,” Helen responded.

*~*~*~*~*~*

John walked silently behind Helen, while she and Will went on and on about abnormal life and the connection to the surface. He couldn’t help the small smile that curved his lips as he listened to her talk. She was energized and excited to learn something new.  He glanced over his shoulder at the lasers, sneering at them.

“This is a problem,” Helen muttered, seeing the bridge they were coming to had a section missing.  John rested his hand on her shoulder, letting her know he was behind her. She didn’t miss the way her body instantly warmed to his touch.

Will stomped his foot on the platform. “Ancient steel, that’s comforting,” he muttered. Risking it, he took a few steps out onto the bridge, not hearing a groan of protest. “The gap isn’t that big. We could jump that easily.” Then his eyes flicked to Druitt. “Some easier than others,” he muttered.

“Do we want to, though?” Helen asked, glancing at both of them. She hadn’t moved and John stayed close to her back. She could feel his tension; waiting for any threat that might present itself.

“What do you mean?” Will asked, keeping his attention on Magnus, seeing Druitt behind her keeping quiet.

“I say we get behind it and follow instead of being forced down a path,” Helen answered. This time, she stepped away from John and he let her go. “Follow me,” she said, going to the edge of the gap, leaping down to catch the bar. She used the momentum from the first swing to make it to the next bar until she was under the cover of the bridge while giving John and Will room to follow after her.

John shrugged. “Come on, William,” he said, following after Helen, climbing down after her. Utilizing his long reach, he swung easily from one bar to the next. He dangled above the great chasm below wearing a small, amused smirk. “Having fun yet?” he asked Helen. She declined to answer, but her eyes told him she was. It delighted him to see her energized. Her mind was engaged and she was focusing on something other than her mortality.

“Why couldn’t I have had a normal job?” Will muttered, being the last to climb down. All those times spent on the playground, swinging on the monkey bars came in handy.

The trio dangled in silence while they listened to the warbling of the lasers as they passed over them. They had just started to breathe a sigh of relief when another tremor hit. Rocks broke off from the ceiling, falling down the gap that had previously taken out the bridge. Thankfully, it was over seconds later.

The moment the barrier moved further away; John felt the interference dissipate. “I can teleport us up to the platform,” he said looking at Helen.

“Are you sure? What about the interference you were feeling?” Helen asked.

“It’s gone now. I believe that barrier was the source,” John replied. “Wrap your legs around me, you know how,” he suggested with a hint of wickedness.

“Not funny,” Helen scolded, but did as he instructed. She didn’t doubt his strength as she used him to grip the bar he was holding onto. Then, she draped her right arm over his shoulder while she wrapped her left around his side, gripping him tightly.

“I’m going to have to let go, alright,” John said. “I’ve got you,” he added, hoping she believed that at least.

“Alright,” Helen acknowledged, pressing her right cheek against his left.

John released of the bar, falling for a millisecond. He used his power, bringing them to the top of the bridge, his feet firmly on the aged metal. Helen clung to him, her legs dropping from around him, standing on tip toe. John wrapped his arms around her, running his hands up and down her back, feeling the evidence of an adrenaline rush. “It’s not the first time we’ve fallen,” he whispered.

Helen nodded quickly. “That got my heart pumping,” she stated, holding onto him for a few more moments. A little laugh of exhilaration escaped her.

John was the first to pull away, taking her hands, feeling the way they trembled as the quick burst of adrenaline faded.  Trusting she’d be alright, he went to the gap and called out, “Come on William, get to the first bar and I’ll lift you back up.”

“I’m definitely not doing it that other way,” Will shouted back, swinging his way towards the first bar.

“You think I want you clinging to me like a spider monkey?” John asked, reaching down, offering Will his hand.

“I never want to be that close to you,” Will replied, climbing back up on the platform with Druitt’s help.

Without warning, John grabbed him and reached back for Helen, teleporting them to the other side of the bridge. He satisfied him to see Will cringing, waiting to plunge to his doom.

Helen rested her hand on John’s shoulder, drawing his attention. “Let’s continue on,” she said. When it was only the two of them, she could keep him on track without getting too swept up in his antics – unless they served to achieve her goals. If they had another person with them, in this case, Will, John was compelled to assert his dominance and push the limits of his control.

“Of course,” John said, redirecting his attention back to Helen. She needed him to be in control of himself.  Casting one final glance at William, John set off to follow the pulsing lasers wherever they may lead.

“Wishing I with Henry and Kate right about now,” Will muttered, following after Magnus who was willingly catching up to Jack the Ripper.

Silence returned to the little group. The further they walked; the more tense John became. It took all he had not to turn to search every dark crevice for the danger he felt was lurking. At one point he paused, listening for any signs they were being tracked. John took Helen’s hand, tapping in morse code, telling her what he sensed.

Helen gave him a little nod, signaling they should keep moving and not to give the game away. “You’re wearing that face again,” she commented idly. She tightened her hand on his out of an old, familiar habit. He gave her a return squeeze.

“What face?” John asked in a low voice.

“The ‘I want to say I told you so, but she’ll be very cross if I do’ face,” Helen explained, continuing the mock beginnings of an argument.

“When have I ever had such an expression?” John asked, knowing what she was doing.

“After the Prime Minister left,” Helen stated smartly.

“Could it have been when I predicted he’d have us chained and collared to his boot heel? Can’t imagine why I’d make faces after that,” John stated with false derision in his voice. He was using his instincts to pick apart every little sound that reached his ears. Separating the sound of his footsteps, Helen’s and Will’s, he picked up on four other sets.

“It wasn’t all bad…” Helen said, focusing on the message he was tapping out on the back of her hand. ‘Being followed. Keep it up.’

“Not for you, maybe…” John grumbled. “At one point, I had to dig a bullet out of my own back,” he reminded her sourly. Well, attempted. He still had the scars from the knife he used on himself. Admittedly, not the best choice he could have made, but pain made him do crazy things.

“Are you looking for a ‘you’re right and I was wrong’ John?” Helen asked sarcastically. Her own ears had started to pick up the sounds of someone following them.

“No,” John growled.

“You would’ve let Worth get away with killing millions of people?” Helen pulled them to a stop, getting him to look at her. She still held his hand, tapping her response – ‘how many?’

“I would’ve hunted that little runt down for fun. You, Watson, and Tesla got your bribes paid in full. Nigel only had to disappear. I got absolutely nothing.” John made his voice appear angry, but his face was as calm as hers. ‘I count four,’ he tapped to her.

Helen nodded slightly, glancing at Will, who was trying to follow what was happening. “Then, perhaps you should have stayed at the Sanctuary to kill him when commanded,” she said sharply. He didn’t react to what she’d said. He was focusing on her index finger, relaying her actual message. She was telling him to keep walking down the tunnel. They had to get to the city.

“Yes, because that’s all I am to you. An attack dog.” John rolled his eyes, drawing Helen down the tunnel with him, waiting for the creatures that were following them to reveal themselves. He tapped ‘not angry’ to her to lessen the sting of his words. Unwanted, his mind went back to their time together hunting down those in Worth’s organization. His body’s response was a noticeable twitch in his left shoulder.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?” Will asked, having already been left out of some weird conversation that had taken place. He was trying to understand why they were also holding hands as if this were some Sunday stroll in the park.

“Nothing,” John said darkly.

“Then why are you twitching like a crack addict?” Will pressed on.

John came to a stop at the fork in the tunnel. The laser barrier had detoured to the left. It was this passage that troubled him. “Helen, he is your protégé. Do keep him in line and keep his quiet,” he snarled, keeping his attention on tunnel in front of them.

Helen shook her head. “What’s the matter?” she asked, letting go of him. Their means of silent communication were coming to an end. Even she could feel the rising threat to their lives.

John whispered to her, “This passage troubles me.” The danger he sensed had intensified.

“We have to keep following the lasers,” Helen decided. They were the only viable means of getting to the city they had at the moment.

“I hope you brought your gun,” John whispered, heading into the passage first. He walked carefully, each stride measured and cautious, waiting for an attack to come.  The moment he turned his back on a section of the tunnel wall to check on Helen, his senses railed at him that he’d made a mistake.  He heard a low hum, and hands grabbed him, pulling him back. There was no time to react as darkness surrounded him.

It all happened so fast, Helen didn’t have time to do more than to shout, “John!” She went to the section of wall, expecting to pass though, but her hands touched solid rock. “Damnit!” she snarled.

“Magnus, we should keep going and get to the city,” Will said reasonably. “Druitt knows where we’re headed, he’ll meet us there.”

“Yes, but there’s no telling what he’ll do between here and there if I’m not with him to manage him,” Helen responded, lightly pounding her fist on the rock face again.

Will made the choice not to comment on her ability to manage Jack the Ripper. “Let’s just get to the city and go from there.”

Helen nodded, knowing Will was right. They headed off, catching up to the laser grid while she silently hoped John could control himself long enough to meet up with them at the city. It was unlikely, but she had to hope his better nature prevailed.

TBC...

Chapter Text

LONDON:

1908

THE HUNT FOR ADAM WORTH

John Druitt stalked through the familiar side streets of London in pursuit of his quarry. Two of Worth’s associates were revealed to be gentlemen attached to the House of Parliament. They were aged fools bursting with egos to rival Nikola’s, clothed in money and status. John hated them on sight. He concealed himself in the shadows, watching and listening to the pieces of conversation that reached his ears. They were outside a Mollie House. It was easy to see how Hyde got his hooks into those men. The little miscreant had a knack for collecting powerful people by using dirty secrets to keep them under his thumb – not unlike what the Prime Minister was doing to The Five. At least the PM had the good sense to bribe them.

John shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest, scowling and he leaned his shoulder against the brick wall. The night was clear with a slight chill in the air. He was about ready to abandon the hunt and meet up with Helen and Watson. The men weren’t leading him to Adam tonight, so in his mind, there was no reason to stay. Even the scraps of information he was able to overhear weren’t very interesting. Suddenly, John went on alert. He forced himself to remain still, not to give away the fact he now sensed danger. His attention was diverted away from the men and on his surroundings.  There was a telltale click of a hammer. Seconds later a shot rang out. He teleported but not before white hot pain slammed into his back.

John went crashing to the floor the moment he arrived at the Sanctuary. He forced himself to his knees, covering his mouth with his right hand, muffling a roar of pain. It took him a few seconds to get himself somewhat under control enough to stand. Instinctively, he brought his left arm across his abdomen, gripping his right side to keep him from using it. John looked around, seeing where he ended up, and was thankful he wasn’t far from the infirmary. He had the bright – pain induced – idea to take care of his wound before anyone else could find him.

Every step John took, he felt like passing out. He could feel blood trickling down his back steadily and he hadn’t even reached the door that would admit him to the hall.  If ever there was a moment to rethink his current choices, this was it. John shook his head, staying the course. No one under the Sanctuary’s roof would be inclined to render medical aid to him. He didn’t have a choice.

John trudged the rest of the way to the door with his fingers digging into his right side and teeth clenched so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if they cracked. He finally made it, leaning heavily on the door for a moment, his forehead pressed against the wood. “You can do this,” he said to himself, steeling himself for another wave of pain to rock him as he shifted over, opening the door.

Slipping out into the hall, John used everything he had to keep his feet under him. The infirmary was a short distance away. He could make it. He would make it and not pass out. A few steps into the journey, John started to stumble. He went careening into the wall, his back slamming against it. The force of the impact shifted the bullet, driving it deeper. A strangled cry of agony escaped him before he could cover his mouth.

John dragged himself down the hall through shear stubborn force of will. He managed to get through the infirmary door and over to the counter where a few medical supplies were. John leaned heavily on the counter, catching his breath, working himself up to divest himself of his jacket, his vest, tie, and finally the shirt. While he took a moment, his eyes hit on an instrument tray where a scalpel lay, waiting to be used.

“Now or never,” John said to himself. He took a roll of bandages, putting it in his mouth to bite down on. As quick as he could he took off his coat and vest together. The blinding pain that exploded on his back was more than anything he’d ever experienced – including the gunshot to his face. John yanked the tie free, hurling it away. Without care, he jerked the collar of his shirt aside, buttons went flying everywhere. He shoved the shirt down and then leaned his forehead on the counter, knocking his head lightly against the surface. This next part wasn’t going to be pleasant.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Helen walked through the front door of her home, Watson closely behind her. They had been out, following leads, trying to put faces to every man in Worth’s organization. There were a few more names to add to the board in the study. It would keep her mind occupied and keep her from wondering where John was. Out loud, she asked, “Do you think he’s been delayed? He knew to meet us.” She started up the stairs with James beside her.

“Or he slipped away to indulge in his vile compulsion of hunting some young lady walking the streets,” James said as diplomatically as he could. They had just reached the second floor when his eyes caught sight of the color red on the wall. Going to it, he knew it for what it was. “This is fresh blood,” he said, smudging it with the tip of his gloved finger. “You don’t think he…?” he started ask, voicing their worst fear.

A roar of pain split the tense silence between them.

“That was John,” Helen said with concern in her voice as much as didn’t want it to be there. Without waiting for James, she set off down the hall, following the blood trail to the infirmary. Inside, she found John crumpled on the floor, a bloody scalpel in his left hand and the fingertips of his right hand covered in blood. From where she stood, she could see he’d sliced into his own back near his left shoulder blade.

Watson tried to grab hold of Helen before she could rush into the room. In his momentary shock over the state John was in, he was too slow.

“John?” Helen said his name quietly, kneeling down carefully. “What have you done to yourself?” she asked, keeping her hands by her sides. There was no telling what his state of mind was.

John turned his left hand over, letting the blood-soaked implement fall from his lethargic grasp. “I was shot…” To his own ears, his voice sounded far away. It had to be the morphine he administered before he started carving into his back finally taking effect. He stretched out his legs, the tips of his shoes scraping against the stone floor. John forced himself over on his right side, not sure if he could make it or not. He somehow found the strength to sit up, his right shoulder propping him up.

“So, you thought to do what? Dig the bullet out of your back?” Helen asked in shock and anger that he could be so stupid. “As always, you make a mess, and I have to clean it up. Get off the floor,” she demanded. She was trying to prick his anger, to use it to get him up.

“I should have just fallen back on the scalpel to end all this…” John murmured, his head lolling to the side.  

Helen reacted before she thought better of it. She slapped his cheek, snarling, “Snap out of it. Get off the floor and let me tend your back before you make it worse.”

John’s bloody right hand came up, lazily touching the stinging flesh. “Ow…” he groaned lethargically.

Helen knocked his hand out of the way, gripping his jaw, turning his head so his eyes met hers. “Get up off the floor and stop feeling sorry for yourself,” her voice was harsh. She let him go, getting up to give him room. Provoking him wasn’t the best idea, but it was all she had. While John decided what he wanted to do, Helen flicked a glance at James, indicating he should grab the chloroform just in case.

John knew he had to get up. He couldn’t stay on the floor and wallow in self-pity. He’d only continue to bleed while the bullet remained lodged in his back. John shifted, his chest and forehead resting against the cabinet as he stretched his arm up, bracing it on the edge of the counter. With whatever strength he had left, he somehow managed to pull himself up off the floor like she wanted.

Helen moved closer to him after he propped himself against the counter again. “John, I need to get you on one of the cots so I can examine your wound,” she said, this time in a gentler voice.

“Give me a minute…” John slurred. “My head’s spinning…”

“That would be the blood loss, genius,” James grumbled, deciding to move this along. He went to John, drawing his left arm across his shoulders while wrapping his right arm around his waist. The grunt of pain that filled his ears made him feel a pang of sympathy for him. They got him down and Helen went to work patching him up.

MORNING:

Helen had sat by John’s side all night. Every time she tried to leave, she would look at him, and she would go right back to her seat to watch over him. She and James had taken a chance, changing his bloody trousers out for a simple pair of black cotton pants and a lightweight shirt. It was nearly seven in the morning when she saw him start to wake up. He groaned, opening his eyes. “Welcome back to the land of the living,” Helen said, gaining his attention.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” John grumbled, his mind waking up, taking stock of every ache and pain inside him. “What happened last night after I got shot?” he asked, his memory was a little fuzzy.

“James and I found you on the floor over there, no shirt, your back sliced open, a bloody scalpel in your hand, and you high on morphine” Helen answered with a bite to her tone. “What were you thinking?” she snapped.

“I wasn’t… obviously…” John replied quietly, looking away from her.

“You could have done more damage to yourself than just having a bullet in your back,” Helen scolded.

“Oh yes, because had I asked for help, I would’ve been granted it,” John snarled. He shifted and immediately his back protested. He clenched his hands, held his breath, and pressed his lips tightly together waiting for the agony to ease.

Helen shook her head, annoyed with herself that she still cared and was wounded by his pain. She poured a cup of willow bark tea, holding the cup out to him.  “Here, drink this. It’ll help with the pain,” she said carefully.

John looked at her, then the cup, and then back at her. “What is it?” he inquired, carefully pushing himself up into a semi-sitting position.

“Willow bark tea,” Helen answered.

“An old wives remedy? Really, doctor?” John asked, smirking at the absurdity of it all.

“I’m not treating you with morphine. You get depressed and suicidal. Last night was quite enough of that,” Helen informed him in a clipped manner. She wasn’t ready to admit that his talk about ending it all had scared her.

Momentarily cowed by that, John held out his right hand for the teacup. Before he could think better of it, downed the contents of the cup in one gulp. As he handed it back, he made a disgusted face. “That was vile,” he said, shaking his head.

“You’ll thank me later when the worst of your pain eases,” Helen stated arrogantly.

“I could just inject myself with morphine,” John replied snidely.

“You could, if there was any here. I removed it last night while you were out cold,” Helen responded.

“Was that before or after you changed my clothes?” John asked darkly.

“I didn’t do that. James did,” Helen lied a little.

John scoffed, seeing her lie, but declined to comment on it. He held out his right hand, silently asking for a little help in standing. She rolled her eyes, sighing in annoyance, but took his hand, nonetheless.  The moment he was up, he swayed a little, his head momentarily swam with dizziness.

Once Helen was sure he wasn’t going to go crashing to the floor, she retrieved a sling from the table. “You’re going to have to rest that shoulder,” she said, coming close, she fit his left arm in it and started to lift it over his head. “That also means you’ll be out of commission for a few days.”

“This is ridiculous,” John grumbled lowering his head, making it easier for her.

“Your wounds need time to mend. If you pop a stitch, so help me God, John, I will give a proper telling off,” Helen threatened as she adjusted the sling making sure it sat comfortably on his shoulder.

John didn’t make a sarcastic remark. “Understood,” he replied, giving her a little nod. In this, it was best to do as she wanted.

Helen stepped back, giving him an appraising eye. “You’ll have to do as you are. The others are waiting.”

“Wonderful,” John muttered.

STUDY:

In the office, green based pin boards were set up with varying maps of London attached to them. There were pictures of Worth’s known associates as well as suspected ones, all with red ties criss-crossing all across the maps making up the web of informants. Nigel was steadily adding to the list when the door opened. Helen entered with a very disheveled John behind her. He snickered at the sight. “Who’d you piss off now, John?” he asked with amusement in his voice.

John glanced at Watson and Nikola standing in front of another board with a list of all the properties Worth controlled. “Besides the people in this room, I have no earthly idea,” he answered in a sarcastic tone.

“Please, tell me it was actually you, Helen,” Nikola playfully begged.

“I have one good hand and I can use it to rip your heart out, if you still have one,” John responded, the dangerous growl in his voice lowered the temperature of the room a few degrees.

“We don’t have time for this,” James stated in a firm voice. “John what happened to you last night before you were shot?” he asked, trying to move this along.

“I was following Pemberton and Ayers as I was tasked to do,” John reminded the vaunted detective. “There are still a few high society clubs I can get into. They had a late dinner at the Ritz and then took the air, where they finished their evening at a Mollie House. Through the entire evening, they made no direct mention to Worth. I was about to meet with the two of you when I got shot.”

“Nigel, have you noticed anyone taking an interest in your or Nikola?” Helen asked. She didn’t want to think someone was keeping an eye on them.

“Not many people can keep tabs on me,” Nigel stated with an impish smirk.

“I haven’t noticed anyone either,” Nikola added. “This doesn’t mean we’re being followed. Druitt does make enemies wherever he goes. I can understand the sentiment of wanting to shoot him.”

John turned on Nikola. “Right, it’s all fun and games if I’m the one being riddled with bullets. What if the next body is Nigel, or Helen? Will you still be laughing then?” he asked, stalking closer to the vampire.

“Mind your back, John,” Nikola warned, brandishing his claws.

“Mind your mouth, Nikola. It’s not smart to annoy a psychotic murderer. Keep it up, I’ll lock you in box, toss you in the ocean, and let you lose your mind,” John threatened. The dark menacing energy he had filled the room, chilling the air as he pinned the vampire with a murderous stare.

“This counterproductive,” Helen stated sharply. “For the time being, we all work together. I do not know why I need to keep reminding you that Worth is the common enemy. Put everything else aside and focus on him,” she demanded. John glanced at her, nodding, backing away from Nikola. “We’ve stopped his attack on the city, but we haven’t stopped him. Now, may we get back to work?”

HOLLOW EARTH:

PRESENT

To say it had been an eventful day was a bit of an understatement. Helen had been captured, executed, revived, and cured. The fun didn’t stop there, she also put her knowledge of abnormals to use, helping Rana to cure one of the ancient creatures that lurked near the center of the earth. They had adverted a catastrophe and Helen had earned a favor all in one go.

“Given all you’ve done, I don’t want to seem rude, but I must insist you leave and return to your world,” Rana said, walking with Helen Magnus and her group towards the transport platform.

“I do understand,” Helen responded politely. “In all the hustle, I didn’t have time to ask, but I got separated from another of our group. He’s down here somewhere and there’s no telling what he’ll do…”

“Our scanners did indicate another like you in the city. He’s in the transport coming this way,” Rana informed, seeing the look of relief in Helen’s eyes.

The transport sphere arrived diverting Helen’s attention. As soon as the doors opened, a bloody, annoyed, John Druitt filled the opening. From this distance she could see he was wounded. A mix of relief and dread filled her as she wondered what’d he’d done. She didn’t stop herself from going to him. “John, you’re in tatters. What happened to you?” she asked, overlooking the blood he was covered in.

John stepped out of the transport intensely aware of the attention that was on him. His focus fixed on Helen, using her to ground him, to push the rage down. “I hate this place…” he hissed through clenched teeth. “They have knife wielding cannibals down here. Cannibals.”

“Your shoulder is a mess,” Helen said, gripping his upper left arm, examining the bare flesh under the ripped shirt. “And you’ve been stabbed,” she added, touching the wound under his left clavicle. “I almost hate to guess what the rest of you looks like.” He gave her a little grunt of pain. His adrenaline was keeping him from feeling the bulk of his injuries.

“Did they cure you?” John asked, barely keeping the snarl from his voice. His eyes flicked over to her trio of human associates, as well as the new faces.

“Yes,” Helen answered, leaving out that they did it after they executed her. John didn’t need to know that, or it would send him into a rage. “How did you end up with blood in your mouth?” she asked, diverting his attention back to her.

“Cannibals, Helen. Salivating, hungry cannibals….” John repeated in a tense voice.

“Yes, I caught that part,” Helen responded in a quiet voice, wrapping her left hand around his wrist, feeling his pulse still racing.  

“They bit me, I bit them back.  You try to make a meal of me and I’m going to make you work for it,” John explained in a heated rush. His adrenaline was wearing off. He was used to being the apex predator – nothing hunted him.

“I can understand their sentiment. You can be quite tasty at times,” Helen responded, trying to take his mind off of his recent trials. She couldn’t tell the extent of his injuries through all the blood. Once he was cleaned up, then she could reassess him.

“It’s all the internal basting from the expensive alcohol I’ve been drinking the last hundred years. I’m not exactly in the pink, but I’ll have a nice flavor…” John muttered with the first hint of amusement at the situation he’d escaped. “Might we go home now? I need a shower and a change of clothes,” John growled. “And I need liquor.”

Helen was about to agree to go home, but then she looked at Rana. “He has an energy elemental inside him. Would you be able to extract it? I can’t on the surface, short of killing him.” This was her one chance to get John back. For once she was going to do what she wanted.

“What’re you doing?” John asked quickly.

“Magnus?” Will asked, but no one paid attention to him. He, Kate, and Henry were relegated to spectators in this moment.

“You have one favor, and you want to use it on him?” Rana asked.

Helen looked up at John, bloody face and all. “Yes,” she said with certainty.

“Don’t waste this on me,” John argued.

“I’m not. You do this and you get to come home,” Helen said, offering him the one thing he wanted more than anything.

John looked her right in the eyes and said, “You have to be clear with what you’re offering me.” All his hopes and dreams were being dangled in front of him. “I need to hear you say it,” he whispered.

Knowing full well that everyone could see them, Helen brought her hands up, cupping John’s blood splattered face. She wanted him to focus only on her as she said, “Let them help you and when you’re separated from the elemental, you can home… to me.” She was tired of losing him, tired of watching him teleport away and not knowing if she would ever see him again.

John leaned back against the outside wall of the transport, her hands falling from his face. He breathed out carefully, not sure if he should trust the benevolence of those that lived here. Then he realized that that instant distrust was the creature. If he wanted the calm to return and the black thoughts to go away, he’d have to take this chance. John had the urge to reach up and touch Helen’s face. Even as his hand moved, he saw the blood and stopped.

Helen took his hand, putting it to her cheek. She didn’t say anything else, letting him make the choice for himself. It was the feeling of his skin against hers that she wanted more than anything. The warmth of his palm cupping her cheek was something she couldn’t forget even if she tried.

John tried to pull his hand back, but she wouldn’t let him go. “I’ve got blood on my hands…”

“It’ll be the last time,” Helen responded. He stepped in close, leaning in, his brow nearly pressed to hers. They took a small moment to share the same breath, to stare deeply into one another’s eyes. “John, please…” she pleaded in a pained whisper.

“Let’s do this before I change my mind,” John responded in a rush.

“It’s not like you can teleport away,” Helen reminded him, stepping back, taking his hand in hers. He clutched at it, using it to ground himself. She took that first careful step forward, testing him, waiting for him to fight. The next step came with him following her, despite the tension she could feel radiating off him.

“No, but I can do other things,” John responded gravely, walking closely at her side, keeping his hand in hers.

“You so much as twitch the wrong way and I’ll knock you out,” Helen promised, glancing at him.

“I appreciate that, truly, I do,” John responded, taking notice that she had tightened her grip on his hand in return. It wasn’t meant to be sweet. She was keeping a good hold of him in case she needed to react to any threatening move he made. He couldn’t help but smile.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Rana had directed Helen Magnus and John Druitt into a small medical lab. The others of her little group had been taken to a small area where they could rest. “This elemental is integrated into his molecular structure I take it?” she asked, turning to a small console, powering it on.

“Yes, he’s had it for over a hundred years. We’ve only recently became aware of it,” Helen answered, pointing to the diagnostic chair in the middle of the room. John sat without protest, his eyes darting about the room. She stood close to him, her hand touching his right shoulder, tapping a few times, getting him to focus on her. Once his eyes were on her, she slid her hand towards the crook of his neck, slipping it under the collar of his shirt, her thumb rubbing back and forth against the side of his throat, trying to sooth him. Helen didn’t think too much about the old habits that had come back to her – touching John as much as possible being one of them.

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve seen a molecular type abnormal. The last one we had down here was about fifty years ago,” Rana spoke. “How have you managed to survive with that elemental inside you? It should have burned you out by now.”

John was about to reply when Helen squeezed the crook of his neck, signaling him to be polite. “I’m more resilient than I look,” he said as carefully as he could.

“That must be true if you’re still able to walk and talk,” Rana replied casually. Magnus had given her a brief summary of Druitt’s exploits during the last century. “Personality changes are not uncommon with hijackings of this sort. It’s surprising that he didn’t cause more carnage on the surface.”

Helen shared a look with John, shaking her head slightly, telling him to let it go. “What does this process entail? Is he going to be awake?”

“For his safety and ours, we’ll put him into a sort of lucid dream state of a strong memory that can keep him calm while nanites work to separate him from the elemental as painlessly as possible,” Rana explained. “You’re not adverse to drugs, are you?” she asked Druitt.

“Not in the slightest,” John responded honestly.

“His dragon of choice is opium,” Helen added. Him nearly ODing on her was still fresh in her mind.

“Morphine makes me depressed,” John commented dryly.

“And suicidal,” Helen muttered under her breath. He leaned into her touch slightly.

“For this process to work we’d have to give you a mild hallucinogenic mixed with a sedative. Once you’re in the memory, you’ll have the vague sense that you’ve done all this already,” Rana explained simply.

“I’m more of an escapist when it comes to the illicit substances,” John muttered, having spent the last century diving in and out of different addictions. Addicts like him craved the dark, the quiet to dull the senses and to drown out the world for a few, short, blissful hours of oblivion.

“Your powers make you overly sensitive to the world?” Rana enquired, typing in a few commands, selecting the best dosage based on his body type and abnormal classification.

“It’s the constant buzzing in my head that drives me crazy,” John responded with a small trace of a bite to his words. Helen gave him a little squeeze. He tensed. “Right back where I started, a patient…”

“You never said anything about that,” Helen said, mildly annoyed that she was just now finding out about that.

“I thought I was insane and thanking my lucky stars I wasn’t ending up in Bedlam,” John replied sarcastically.

“We will talk about this later,” Helen promised. “What do you need us to do?” she asked, giving her attention to Rana.

“Would you place this at the base of his skull. It’ll be what contains the elemental as its separated from him,” Rana explained.

Helen accepted the disk that was no bigger than a silver dollar. “This seems a bit small.” She turned it over in her hand, eying it skeptically. John caught her attention, giving nothing away with his face. His eyes, however, were worried. She tapped the crook of his neck, telling him to trust her.

“That’s the good thing about energy elementals, they can be compressed into any size,” Rana replied, her tone lighter. She made sure not to watch them too closely, knowing they were communicating without speaking.

Helen was trusting this was going to work. Looking at John, she asked, “You ready?” He nodded, leaning forward, giving her access to the back of his neck. Helen gave the back of his neck a little reassuring squeeze before she placed the disk against his skin. John flinched, growling in discomfort. “What?” she asked quickly, pushing him up, getting him to look at her again.

“Are there needles in this thing?” John snarled, not wanting to turn his head. He lifted his hand, carefully touching the device.

“They won’t leave any lasting marks,” Rana answered absentmindedly. “I need you to get him to lie down. He’ll need to pick a calming memory to revisit.”

“Not a lot of those in here,” John muttered dejectedly, stretching out in the chair, mindful of the needles buried in the back of his neck. He rested his hands on his abdomen, looking up at Helen. All he wanted was to get this over with.

“We’re almost there, John,” Helen said, touching his shoulder, rubbing lightly. The darkness the creature brought to his life eclipsed most of his pleasant memories. Catching his gaze, she said, “Recall the night we attended the masquerade at the insistence of the Prime Minister. That should keep you distracted through this process.” It was one of the rare times John had seemed like his old self, laughing easily, smiling without a care, and looking at her like she was the most radiant woman in the world.

John closed his eyes, smiling in genuine warmth at that memory. Even to this day, he could still see her in that satin crimson dress cut in a regency style. Her long fall of honey blonde hair seemed to glow against the deep red. She had worn a black lace mask that night, adding to the allure of her attire. “You were so beautiful…” he whispered, blindly searching for her hand. Her fingers interlaced with his, holding tightly.

Rana came closer to the pair of them, holding out a device to Helen. “I think you’ll be the safe one to inject him with this,” she stated knowingly. Each time the man flicked a glance in her direction, it was malevolent and full of suspicion.

Helen let go of him. The device in her hand was similar to the one that she used to inject the medicine to cure herself of the radiation sickness – courtesy of Adam/Hyde. “Alright, John, recall that afternoon and let the sedative take you.” She depressed the plunger, injecting him. He grunted a little, fought the drugs on instinct, and then went still. Helen dropped the instrument, taking his right hand between both of hers. “Is it alright if I keep hold of his hand?” she asked, looking at Rana.

“That’s fine,” Rana replied. “The nanites will be able to tell the two of you apart.” She typed in a few commands, starting the process. Rana took a moment to study the pair of them. Helen kept his hand between both of hers, holding it against her abdomen, her right thumb rubbing up and down slowly. “You care deeply for him,” she said softly.

“He’s been in my life a long time,” Helen responded softly. She used to think falling in love with him and then losing him was her punishment for the experiment she devised. The truth of his ailment had rocked her to the core after he willingly re-bonded with the elemental. For weeks after John left, she had searched for ways to free him, and each avenue she gone down had resulted in his death. That was not something she was ready to revisit on him. Eventually, she had to set it aside as life and the Sanctuary demanded her attention again.

“It’s never easy finding love so early in one’s life,” Rana replied knowingly, hearing what Magnus wasn’t saying.

“I wouldn’t call it early,” Helen remarked with a little scoff. “He was twenty-eight, I was thirty-five. Though, given how long we’ve walked the earth, it could be seen as early,” she conceded the point. She wasn’t really sure what she should say.

“You’re lucky to have each other,” Rana said softly. She rarely indulged in such nonsense in public. Her heart had been abused by fate. If she could help another weary soul find peace, then she would.

1908:

LONDON SANCTUARY

John had stolen himself away to a sitting room where he closed the shutters, and yanked the drapes closed. He then retired to the couch, stretching out, draping his legs over the arm rest, putting a hot compress over his eyes. The others had done nothing but argue while John sat back listening and enjoying the discord between old friends. After a while, though, the noise had started to make his head pound. He settled his body, breathing in and out slowly, trying to trick his body into sleep. He nearly missed his human days when he could take a nap.

Downstairs, Helen had just closed the door on a private messenger from the Prime Minister. He had delivered an invitation to an exclusive masquerade ball for the upper echelon of society. The invitation was addressed to her and John. “The Prime Minister is pushing his luck,” she muttered to James, who stood next to her, wearing a grave expression.

“Don’t say that within earshot of John. He won’t let you forget that he predicted this,” James advised her, reaching over to take the invitation from her. It was at the estate of Atherton Edwards – old money and a long family history going back to the late 1500’s. “The PM assumes this Edwards chap is in bed with Worth?” he asked.

“Why else send us?” Helen replied even though she knew the answer. John could offer the best means of escape.

“John’s going to cause chaos, you know that,” James pointed out, handing the thick paper back to her.

“Not if we give him someone to hunt,” Helen responded, waving the invitation lightly between them.

“Now who’s causing chaos?” James remarked with a little scoff.

“I want to be done with all this nonsense,” Helen bit out. She was getting fed up with them all under her roof sniping at each other. “If It means that I have to stoop so low as to be on John’s arm tonight, then so be it.” She sighed, heading for the stairs.

James was about to follow after her when there was another knock. Opening it, he said, “Yes?”

“Delivery for Helen Magnus and John Druitt,” a young man announced indicating two large boxes. “From the Prime Minister’s office.”

“You have got to be kidding,” James muttered, shaking his head, and then ushered the man inside.

*~*~*~*~*

On the second floor, Helen stopped outside one of the rarely used sitting rooms John had taken to frequenting when he needed a break from everyone – or they needed a break from him. She raised her hand to knock, but quickly stopped herself. This was her house. Helen opened the door to find the room plunged into darkness. The curtains were drawn with only slivers of light cutting through, leaving slashes across the floor. Helen looked over at the couch, seeing John with his long legs draped over one end and a white cloth covering his eyes.

John had felt himself start to doze off when the door opened. Something felt strange and his mind was hazy. He heard the curtains being drawn back, sensing the restorative darkness being banished from the room. “Bloody hell…” he grumbled.

“John, get up.” Helen yanked open the second set of curtains, letting more light into the room.

“Why?” John asked harshly.

“We have to talk,” Helen answered, going over to stand in front of him, seeing the compress over his eyes.

“And it has to be light in here for that? I could hear just as well before you opened the curtains,” John mumbled, turning over, trying to hide his face. He took the compress from his face; the warmth having gone from it a while ago.

“What’s the matter?” Helen asked, this time forcing her tone to be gentler. She walked around behind the couch, looking down at his face, seeing his eyes closed tight.

“It’s too bright today,” John answered, pushing his face further into the cushion. There were some days when the light reflected off the wrong surface, hitting his eyes, and he’d have the worst headache imaginable. He had the vague sense as if he’d said those words before. All of this felt familiar.

Helen wanted to say she forgot he was prone to headaches, but there wasn’t anything about him that she could forget. “Alright, I’ll close them again,” she whispered.

“Don’t bother,” John replied, sitting up, heaving a sigh. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking, adjusting to the light once more. “You wanted to talk?”

“This should perk you up,” Helen said, daring to take a seat next to him. “We’ve been invited to a masquerade,” she informed him, holding out the invitation. A small part of her was feeling excited, as twisted as that was. He didn’t take it from her.

“Invited?” John asked, drawing out the word. He knew exactly who was behind this.

“He’s pushing his luck,” Helen replied in an annoyed fashion. She would endure John’s smugness over this.

“Luck may strangle him…” John started to say and then trailed off. He looked at Helen, experiencing the worst sense of déjà vu. She was holding his gaze, giving him a confused expression. Shaking his head, he chalked it up to his headache.

“Have you taken something?” Helen asked, noticing his strange behavior.

“What? No,” John answered quickly, rising to his feet. His head started to pound from the sudden change.

“I’m only making sure,” Helen replied stiffly. Finding John strung out of his mind that night was a memory she wouldn’t be able to bury for a while.

John held out his hand for the invitation, wanting to read it. Helen handed it over without comment. He examined the calligraphy, nodding in approval. The font was grand without being too hard to read. “A night of grand indulgence….” John read in a dark voice. “Hmm…a little on the nose,” he commented. “No whim will be denied. No hunger will go unsatisfied.” John turned the invitation around, showing Helen. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he commented, letting his suspicion fill every word.

“We’re being hosted by Atherton Edwards,” Helen informed him.

John sat back down next to her without minding the distance between them. His brow was furrowed, trying to place the name. He tapped the edge of the invitation against his right knee. “Is he that drunkard from school?” John finally asked, glancing at Helen.

“He was only at Oxford to please his father, but the Elder Edwards passed away and he left, knowing he was under no obligation to graduate,” Helen said, jogging his memory.

“God, he’s got to be in his fifties by now,” John commented without listening to what he was saying.

Helen cleared her throat. “John, we’re in our fifties as well,” she said lightly, trying not to chuckle.

“What?” John looked at her, slightly baffled. “That can’t be right…”

“You are fifty,” Helen stated, hoping she didn’t sound too amused. “It’s been twenty-two years since Oxford and the experiment.”

“I guess I stopped counting at thirty,” John muttered, shrugging one shoulder. As one year went into another, he seemed to forget to pay attention to his age.

Helen got up. “Come on, we have to get ready. If I to have stoop so low as to be on your arm tonight, you’ll look presentable,” she said. The moment she headed for the door; she smirked a little. John always prided himself on his appearance.

*~*~*~*~*

John waited by the front door of the Sanctuary, awaiting Helen. He had bristled, at first, over the box that had been delivered for him from the Prime Minister, assuming the contents were undesirable rags. The clothes that had been sent along were tailored to his tall frame. John had been pleasantly surprised by the black frock coat, seeing it was embroidered with silver thread in an intricate brocade pattern. There was a matching vest, a satin shirt of midnight blue, and black breeches that were a little on the snug side that he had tucked into knee high boots.  John fiddled with the black lace mask on his face, waiting for Helen to join him so they could depart.

John turned towards the stairs, having sensed Helen. The moment his eyes took in the sight of her, his jaw dropped, he exhaled sharply and forgot how to breathe. She wore a deep crimson colored gown that came from the Regency Era. There were black lace gloves gracing her hands, covering her wrists, and going up as far as her upper arms. Her hair was down in a cascade of dark blonde curls swept over her left shoulder. She wore a mask similar in style to his that drew attention to her impossibly stormy blue eyes. His eyes were then drawn to her lips, seeing the touch of rouge to them begging to be kissed. Before he knew it, he was crossing the foyer, waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.

Helen tried not to react to John. She swallowed hard at the sight of him. He was dressed in clothes that fit his body in a way she hadn’t seen in a long time. His hair was down, framing his face, making his skin seem like living alabaster. She could see his eyes were even more defined by the devilish lace mask that graced his face. Helen couldn’t help but be drawn down the stairs towards him. Every step she took was careful, drawing out the moment. His eyes never left hers. There was a moment when she was getting dressed that she regretted agreeing to this. Then, the moment she saw him, the allure and the danger of the night seemed almost irresistible. A dark part of her wanted to see what thrilling chaos John could cause tonight. It wasn’t sane. It wasn’t rational. It was a side she fought against.

John held out his hand to her. She looked at it like it might bite her. “I promise to reign myself in and keep control of my sinister nature. You’ll be amazed by my admirable restraint tonight,” he promised sweetly.

“I know you can control yourself, you choose not to,” Helen remarked, placing her hand in his, trying not to gasp at the way he gripped her fingers, his thumbs rubbing back and forth over the knuckles of her index, middle, and ring fingers.

“I’m more interested in seeing what you’ll do tonight,” John replied, giving her a seductive little smirk. He pulled her in close, mindful of James having appeared at the top of the stairs. “My, God, you look positively ravishing in that color,” he praised, biting his bottom lip, letting his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh.

“And you’re the very picture of the devil himself,” Helen responded, barely keeping the appreciation out of her voice. She couldn’t help letting her eyes run up and down his body. Black was certainly his color.

“What does that make you? A fallen angel? You are looking positively devilish yourself, my dear,” John responded with a bit of a wicked purr in his voice. Stepping back, helping her down the last two steps, he asked, “Shall we depart?” He released her hand, only to offer her his arm. “You did say you’d be on my arm tonight if I was presentable. I’d say I’m more than dressed to impress.”

“You’ll have to do,” Helen remarked, trying not to smirk. He was more than presentable. He was the visual representation of every dark fantasy she had ever had about him. “Some ground rules,” she stated before she would link her arm with his. He had a sarcastic quip ready to tumble from between his lips. “No killing tonight. We’re simply there to gather intelligence and link Atherton to Adam.”

“Agreed,” John said, throwing a look to Watson, daring him to argue.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Helen and John appeared on the grounds of the Edwards Estate shrouded in the darkness of a massive tree. There was a slight chill in the air that had her shivering a little. John brought her in close to his side, his arm wrapping around her. She thought to push him away, but they had to make it seem as if they were there together. “If there is trouble tonight, we’ll have to make a quick exit,” she whispered as they started to walk together towards the crushed stone path leading to the main entrance of the estate.

“Then you best not stray too far from my side,” John replied, casually letting his eyes rove over the candles that lined driveway. He saw other party goers dressed in a style similar to theirs. There was a definite theme happening for the night. John kept Helen close, seeing the attention they were garnering. He pretended not to notice any of them as he guided Helen towards the open front doors and the man waiting to collect the invitations. Deftly, he removed it from the inside of the frock coat, handing it over without breaking stride.  

Once inside, Helen stepped away from John, taking his arm again. She stayed in step with him as they took a cursory tour of the main floor, following the flow of the crowd that was making their way towards the back lawn. There were sandstone statues lining the halls, all with unfinished faces wearing various styles of leather masks, collars, and shackles. Behind a door they passed, John was certain he heard the crack of a whip. Erotic art had been mounted on the walls. Some had woman in bondage. Others had men on their hands and knees either being whipped or spanked with a paddle. John leaned in close to Helen whispered, “Who was his decorator? The Marquis De Sade?”

“He does have interesting taste,” Helen agreed, sharing a look with him. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, letting him continue to lead. The flow of the guests took them into a salon and out through open French doors to the back terrace. On the back lawn tents had been set up at odd intervals with people weaving in and out of them, milling around a dance floor. Somewhere musicians were playing a dark melody that rose through the night, adding a sensual ambiance to the night.

“Are we certain Worth is aligned with this… creature?” John asked quietly, making it seem as if he were asking her something else.

“The Prime Minister thinks so,” Helen answered, careful to keep her voice down while hiding behind an interested smile.

John let his gaze rove over a couple of women, pressed in a corner, practically devouring the other. He rolled his eyes, looking away, wondering what sort of situation they had been sent into.

“Atherton certainly has a…” Helen started to reply, but words failed her.

“Perverse side?” John suggested, seeing she nodded in agreement. “And I thought he was a demented little freak at school,” he added with a little grunt of annoyance.

“Shall we take a turn on the dance floor?” Helen asked lightly, turning his attention to something else. “You still do remember how to waltz, don’t you?”

John gave her a little grin. “We’ll find out,” he said with a deep rumbling laugh, taking her hand, guiding her to the dance floor.

*~*~*~*~*~*

As the night wore on, Helen and John found themselves taking a tour of the grounds, pretending to be curious as to what was happening within the tents, but not daring to peek inside. They wandered into the mouth of a hedge maze with Helen starting to shiver in earnest. Beside her, John removed his coat, settling it on her shoulders, surprising her. She had nearly thanked him when she noticed his attention wasn’t fully on her. Rather than speak, she took his hand, drawing the pad of her thumb down the back of his hand, pressing on the knuckle of his middle finger.  It was their silent way of asking, ‘What is it?’

John freed his hand from hers, lifting it, tugging on his left earlobe to indicate he heard voices coming from inside the maze. Knowing she would want to investigate, John took her hand in his again, lacing their fingers together.  If trouble found them, they would need to get out of there as quickly as possible. He followed her lead, knowing she had a knack for finding her way through quickly. The voices he had detected were growing closer with each turn they made. Instinct had him stopping, grabbing Helen, pulling her back against his chest with his hand covering her mouth. She started to resist, showing a hint of panic. John removed his hand, settling it on her stomach, just under her bust. “Adam,” he whispered in her ear.

“JOHN!”

John furrowed his brow, hearing Helen calling out his name. That was impossible as she was held securely against him. Shaking his head slightly, he returned his attention to the voices – Adam and, he assumed, Atherton. They were talking about travel plans without revealing the intended destination.

“John! Wake up!”

John growled, pressing the heel of his right hand against his temple. “I’m trying to listen, will you stop shouting,” he snarled.

“I’m not saying anything,” Helen responded, stepping away from him. “Are you sure you haven’t taken something?”

“I haven’t touched a single drug since you found me high on morphine,” John replied with a bite to his voice. He stopped, looking at her, confusion racing through him. “Wait… this isn’t right…” he whispered.

“You’re making even less sense than usual, which is a feat for you,” Helen commented dryly.

“This is not what happened. We heard Worth and we decided to capture him, but the little weasel slipped away. Lucky for us, we heard where he was going….” John looked around, seeing everything in front of him had taken on a slight haze, as if his eyes were trying to bring everything into focus.

TBC....

Chapter Text

HOLLOW EARTH:

2010

“Come on, John, wake up,” Helen said, leaning over him, watching his face for any sign he was returning to consciousness. Then, to Rana, she asked, “Is it safe to remove the containment disk?”

Rana checked the readings on the console. “The nanites have separated the two of them and have it safely locked away. They’ve also repaired any damage done to him. You can take it out now.”

Helen reached behind John’s neck, her fingers gripping the edge of the device. She breathed in sharply, freeing it from the back of his neck. His body flinched but his eyes remained closed. She held it out to Rana, not wanting to leave John’s side until he woke up. “What will you do with it now?” she asked, glancing at her.

“We’ll keep it contained so it can’t hurt anyone else,” Rana answered, taking the disk from Magnus, and dropping it into a little lode stone box. “You can use this room as long as you like while you wait for him to wake up.”

“Thank you for helping us,” Helen said, looking back to John. She didn’t look up as Rana left. All of her attention was on John, on willing him to wake up so she could make sure he was back. Helen took his hand, holding it against her heart. “Please wake up,” she whispered. While they were alone, she could say what she wanted. “I need you to come back to me. John, please…”  His hand tightened on hers, one of the telltale signs he was waking up.

“I’m not high anymore…am I?” John slurred, opening his eyes. Her beautiful face swam into focus. The next thing he noticed was the peace and quiet.

“No,” Helen answered, trying not to laugh. “We gave you something to counteract the sedative and the hallucinogenic. It took you longer to wake up than I thought.” Relief washed through her in a way she hadn’t expected it to. She leaned her head down, touching her forehead to the right side of his chest, breathing out a huge sigh.

John cupped the back of her head with his left hand, lightly stroking her hair in a comforting way. “I’m here. I’m back with you,” he said softly. The peace he was feeling was euphoric, but the feeling of Helen against him was more than he ever thought he would experience again.

Helen pulled back, looking into his eyes. His entire presence had changed, much as it had when the creature was out of him the first time. He had the look of pure adoration in his gaze that she knew from their early days. “There you are,” she said, finally seeing him.

“You believe it’s me?” John asked lightly. He could only dare to hope that she was seeing the real him again.

“I started to at the Sanctuary right after you told me you loved me for all eternity,” Helen admitted. “And then you were gone too quickly.”

“I was saving your life,” John reminded her softly.

“Don’t do that again,” Helen scolded in a lighthearted way. She was letting herself feel truly happy that she had one of the greatest loves of her life back.

“Understood,” John agreed with a fake serious expression that was ruined in the next second by his boyish smile.

“Are you ready to sit up?” Helen asked, switching back into doctor mode. She wanted to be sure he was truly on the mend before they departed. John nodded, keeping his hand in hers as she helped him to sit up. “Take is slow,” she advised.

“I didn’t break my back, Helen,” John said even though he was secretly enjoying her fussing over him.

“No, but you did have needles in your brainstem,” Helen reminded him.

“Point taken,” John replied, turning slowly, putting his feet flat on the floor. She pulled him forward slightly, to get a better look at the back of his neck. He, in turn, wrapped his arms around her waist. There was a momentary flinch, but soon enough, she settled into his light hold.                                                                                                                              

Helen closed her eyes for a second, remembering the way his embrace felt. It was different from a couple of days ago when their joining was all about hunger and escape. This hold was soft, and she welcomed it. Tentatively, she probed the back of his neck, seeing the needle marks had already healed. “There’s a little bit of a burn from where the device was, but it should be gone soon. Rana said the creature didn’t want to come out of you.”

“Of course not, I was its perfect environment,” John remarked, leaning back to look up at her. Before, there had always been this white-hot ball of rage inside him. He could breathe easier, he could rationalize better, and his emotions weren’t colored by the darker aspects of human nature. “It’s strange to be this calm again,” he muttered, glancing down at his hands, seeing they were still covered with blood.

“What is it?” Helen asked, having seen this from him before. John had rescued one of the empaths who had a shrapnel wound. Blood had gotten on his hand, and the strangest look had come over him.

“All the lives I’ve taken….” John whispered, remorse filling his voice. “How do I even begin to answer for that?”

“We’ll deal with it when it’s time,” Helen stated resolutely. “For now, let’s go home. You need a shower.” The blood that painted his face had dried and was starting to crack and flake in places.

John laughed, even though he didn’t want to. “And a change of clothes. I look disgusting,” he added, taking her hand, letting her help him stand.

“I do believe you also said you wanted liquor. After the time we’ve had down here, I’ll join you,” Helen replied. She was not going to deny herself a good, stiff drink.

TRANSPORT PLATFORM:

Helen and John joined the others on the platform. Henry looked anxious. Kate let her gaze linger on John, and then flicked over to Will. For his part, Will looked annoyed. Helen was going to chalk it up to being executed and then brought back. Rana waited with Gregory. She went to him, giving her father a hug, knowing they wouldn’t see each other for a while. When they parted, Helen nodded to Rana, silently thanking her again for helping John. She gave her father’s hand a squeeze before going to stand with John again. Helen made sure she stood at an angle, hiding her right hand in case she and John had to communicate silently.

“You have Adam Worth in your custody, do you not?” Rana inquired. Her tone was formal and authoritative. Gone was the understanding, gentle voice that she had used with Helen Magnus and her paramour.

John shared a look with Helen, shrugging on the borrowed jacket he’d been offered. “Yes, Mr. Worth is a guest of ours,” he answered politely, having been given the go ahead by Helen. He shifted slightly, concealing his right hand with her body.

“We want him back. He has crimes to answer for down here,” Rana replied, her gaze directed at Magnus.

“We’ll deliver him to you after I get my people home. It’s been an adventure down here,” Helen agreed, playing for time – which she communicated to him, tapping the back of his hand.

“Do not keep us waiting,” Rana advised. Behind her a transport sphere arrived. “This will take you to the outskirts of the city where the supply tunnels start. From there, Druitt will be able to teleport you back to the surface.”

“I’ll see you soon, Helen,” Gregory promised. “You too, John,” he added.

John inclined his head politely. Then, to Helen he asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yes,” Helen answered, a tiny tendril of exhaustion creeping into her voice. Before he could offer, she linked her arm with his.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Helen, John, and Will appeared in the foyer of the Sanctuary, greeted by Nikola. Before going back for the others, Helen gave John’s hand a good squeeze. They shared a smile, and then he was off, leaving her with a former vampire and protégé both wearing confused/annoyed expressions. “What?” she asked a bit too sharply.

“Oh, inquiring minds would like to know if you were cured? What happened to Johnny to make you smile at him like that again? How was it in Hollow Earth? You know, things like that,” Nikola replied, making motions with his hand.

“I was cured, John had the elemental taken out of him, and Hollow Earth was fine,” Helen answered succinctly. The events of the past few days were catching up to her and she found her patience wearing thin.

“And she also wasted her one favor on a murdering psychopath over someone who needed real help,” Will added, crossing his arms. Ever since Adam Worth showed up, and he learned that the Five had hunted the man down, he was finding it hard to trust Magnus and her judgment.

“What right do you have to question my choices?” Helen asked, her temper snapping.

“You needn’t trouble yourself for much longer, Dr. Zimmerman, seeing as I’m not welcome,” John stated in a polite voice. His eyes tracked to Helen. “I’ll have that shower and then depart.” He used his powers, removing himself to the guest room he had claimed during the sporadic times he was allowed inside the walls of the Sanctuary. The last thing he wanted was to cause discord between Helen and her people. If leaving kept the peace, then so be it.

“Well, this is awkward,” Henry muttered to Kate – who only nodded. They both shared a look, agreeing to remain silent.

“Will, I want you to consider something very carefully,” Helen said, rounding on the young man. This time, the menacing one wasn’t John. Each of the Five had their own brand of darkness inside them and now she was tapping into hers that she rarely used. “I have known John longer than you’ve been alive. In whatever form he’s in, he is the one constant in my life, as he will continue to be until the day we die. I made the choice to use my favor for him. That creature was only inside of him because of my experiment that turned us into the very beings you see before you.”

“Magnus…” Will started to say but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nikola shake his head, telling him to bow out. He wasn’t going to win.

“The next time you see fit to judge me, remember this conversation, and seeing as my health is no longer impaired, your tenure as head of this Sanctuary has ended. The choice of who remains within these walls belongs to me,” Helen advised coldly. Her patience was gone. All she wanted was John. She headed for the stairs, letting them think what they wanted. Tomorrow was soon enough to regret giving into her temper. She used the long walk from the foyer to the guest rooms to let go of the worst of her anger. Each time she thought she was moving on, Will’s words replayed in her mind, winding her up again.

By the time Helen reached John’s door, she was semi-calm. She opened it, walked in, and then leaned back against it, shutting out everything and focusing on John in the shower. He’d left a trail of his clothes on the floor, leading to the door that was left cracked open. Wisps of steam were escaping into the bedroom. Sighing, Helen stripped out of her jacket, tossing it on the bed. She took off her boots, removed her socks, and took off her pants, leaving her clothes in the same haphazard trail as John had. All she was clad in was her black t-shirt and underwear Pushing open the door, Helen had to stop and stare at him. He stood with his back to the room, the water pelting his back, leaving a small red hue from the heat. There were bruises already starting to form on his body. She let her gaze linger on the scar on his back. Drawn to him, she stood at the threshold of the open shower, knocking lightly on the edge. “Would you like some company?” she asked gently, giving into her need for him.

“I thought you’d be caught up with something else by now,” John replied, not turning around, as much as it pained him. As much as he wanted to come back to her, if it caused tensions to rise within her Sanctuary, he would leave to spare her any difficulty. He knew she needed her work more than anything else.

“I’d rather be right here, with you,” Helen said, trying to get him to look at her. She stepped into the stall, the hot spray of water hitting her shirt as she moved in close to him. Helen pressed her hand to his back, the tip of her index finger rubbing back and forth over his scar. Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to it, making him flinch. She pulled back out of momentary shock. He had never flinched before.

“That may be the case today. What about tomorrow when your good sense kicks in and you question my stability?” John asked, forcing himself not to look at her. He was dying inside saying these things to her.

“Are you joking?” Helen asked in turn, taking a step back.

“I’m not,” John replied. “I won’t hold you to what you said in Hollow Earth. It was a nice thought, thinking I could come home. There’s too much blood on my hands for that.” He would let her go for her own sake because he loved her and wanted what was best for her. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a division within her Sanctuary.

“In case it has escaped your notice, I want you stupid,” Helen snapped. “I wouldn’t have had sex with you a few days ago if I hated you or thought you were beyond redemption. Yes, I used my one favor for you because of what I did!”  The guilt had been weighing her down. It was her experiment. She had procured the blood. Yes, John had agreed, but he would have walked through fire for her had she asked. The fact he was hijacked by the creature was her fault. She took a step away, shaking her head, saying, “If you leave me now, after all of this, we are done. I will cut you out of my life as if you never existed.”

John heard the anguish and the heartbreak that mirrored his own. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her in front of him, wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he said over and over through the water raining down on them. “I only wanted to spare you having to make this choice.”

“Stop being so noble, John,” Helen snarled through the tears gathering in her eyes. Her exhaustion made it harder for her to keep her emotions under control. “The least you could do is be selfish with me,” she added, knocking the back of her head against his right shoulder. She turned in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist, holding him back tightly. “You had the nerve to make me love you again,” she whispered.

“How’d I do that?” John asked in genuine surprise. He turned them, so the hot spray of the shower was hitting his back. She was talking to him more now than she had during their recent encounters. He brought his left hand up, cupping the back of her head, his fingers threading through her wet mass of hair.

“You told me you loved me, you idiot, in that soft voice that was so warm and happy,” Helen replied without a trace of anger in her voice. She kept her cheek pressed against his chest. “I thought I had buried everything I ever felt for you, pushed it so far down that I couldn’t be hurt by it anymore. Then when I killed you, the box I had it locked in, cracked open, and I had to bring you back.” After, when she was locked in the cell with him, the usual dangerous, antagonistic air he had was gone. She hadn’t wanted to believe he’d been returned to her. It was too easy. The longer she was in there, however, the clearer she could see him. “I thought you becoming that monster was my punishment for loving you so much when we were human.”

“This was never your fault,” John said quickly, pressing loving kisses to the top of her head.

“It was my experiment, John. We all did this because I…” Helen started to argue.

“Yes, it was your experiment that we helped on. We all went into it with our eyes wide open,” John replied. He brought his hands down to cup her face, tilting her head back to look up at him. “What I became was never your fault. I never blamed you for this. Me. This sane man that stands before you. I am the man that loves you with everything he has.”

“Then why are you trying to walk away from me?” Helen asked, needing an honest answer.

“To keep you from having to make the choice between your people and me,” John answered gently. “I know your work is important to you. It’s your life…”

“John, don’t you think I know my own mind at this point in my life?” Helen replied, sighing. “I’m not giving you up,” she stated.

“I can’t stay,” John said sadly.  “If I do, the divide will only grow between you and your protégé.” It was killing him to say all this. She was the one woman in all the world that he wanted more than his life.

“They have to see you for who you truly are and not the darkness that creature brought out in you. You, my Montague John Druitt, the scientist, the kind man,” Helen replied, feeling she was wearing him down. Soon enough he would see things her way. She was reminding him of everything he was before the darkness claimed him.

John reached behind him, shutting off the water. It was starting to turn cold, and he was not in the mood for an ice-cold shower. “If that is what you wish, then we should discuss terms.”

“Are you surrendering to me?” Helen inquired, watching him step out, retrieving a towel to wrap around his hips. She felt a pang of sympathy for his mottled chest. It was littered with bruises and scratches from his time in Hollow Earth. The stab wound, from what she could tell, was on the mend at least.

“I seem to have no other option,” John replied in a gentle voice. He was giving into her – like she knew he would. Taking hold of a second towel, setting it on the white marble sink counter, he held out hand to Helen. It pleased him to see that she didn’t hesitate to take it. Bringing her in close, he pulled off her wet t-shirt and unhooked her bra. She made no sounds of protest as his nibble fingers hooked in the band of her underwear, dragging the simple cotton down until it dropped to the floor, and he helped her to step out of them. It was the small, wry smirk on her lips that kept him going. He secured the black terry cloth around her torso.

Helen took his hand, leading him to the bedroom. He stopped by the door, letting her set the tone for this next discussion. She went over to the bed, pulling down the covers, scattering their jackets on the floor. Helen lifted the sheet, sliding under it and dropping the towel to the floor. Tucking the white cotton around her body, she turned over on her side, watching, waiting for him to join her. He leaned against the door jamb, his arms crossed over his chest, lightly scowling at her, shaking his head. She was not about to play fair if it meant keeping him.

“If this is the venue you choose, then so be it,” John muttered, moving away from the bathroom door. He lifted the sheet and slid into bed on the left side, leaving his towel on the floor. She had started to reach out to him, but he said, “No touching until the terms have been discussed and agreed upon. You stay on that side, and I’ll stay on this one. If you want to play dirty, so can I.”

“Fine, no touching,” Helen repeated with a little mock frown. She only meant to inspect the stab wound to his left shoulder. It appeared to be healing, but she wanted to make sure. “I want to mend this relationship,” she started by saying. Even though it had strayed into territory that could be labeled as ‘complicated’, it never stopped being a relationship.

“As do I,” John replied, so she knew he was in agreement. He shifted to his left side, draping the sheet over his waist, propping his head in the palm of his left hand. “I feel we could best do that by there being some distance between us.”

“Where would you go?” Helen asked, moving a little closer to the center. She tucked her hands up under her chin to keep from reaching out to him.

“London to start. I’m sure the head of MI6 could put me to use. After all I do know how to hunt. It takes a killer to catch a killer, so on and so forth,” John answered.

“I want you to carry a phone with you,” Helen told him, not commenting on his statement.

“So, you can track me and make sure I’m staying on my best behavior?” John meant it as a joke, but she didn’t take it that way. 

“If you insist on being away, then we’ll utilize modern means of communication,” Helen replied honestly. If she couldn’t see his face, she at least wanted to be able to hear his voice. She wanted to be able to talk to him when she missed him.

“Agreed,” John said, giving in. He wouldn’t survive without some measure of contact, even if he had to go back to the old ways by writing letters. Talking could be good for them and used as a way to rebuild the trust that had been severely damaged.

“When I ask where you are, I want you to tell me the truth,” Helen stipulated. She didn’t want to have to guess where he was or if he was getting into trouble.

“Agreed,” John said again. “When I ask how you’re feeling, I want you to answer me honestly,” he added his own stipulation.

“Agreed,” Helen responded.

“While I am away, I’ll send you flowers and little gifts, so you know I’m thinking about you. Don’t turn them away,” John stated. He wanted her to be reminded of his affection for her.

“I won’t,” Helen assured him. “Tomorrow morning, have breakfast with me and then we’ll separate.” She couldn’t say she’d let him go.

“Alright, but Helen, whenever you need me, whether it’s to hold you on the bad days, or to come get you out of a tight spot of trouble, I want you to call me,” John added. She had to know that he would come to her in an instant the moment she needed him.

“I promise, John,” Helen agreed. She indicated the center of the bed, asking, “May we meet in the middle now?”

John slid over, shifting to his back, holding out his left arm to her. Helen immediately curled into his side, resting her head on his chest, snuggling close. The rest of the world fell away as they lay together.

Helen settled in against him, breathing out slowly, and then she groaned as she remembered she had completely forgotten about their prisoner. “You can’t leave tomorrow,” she said, sitting up, looking down at him.

“Helen, we just agreed…” John started to argue.

“We have to decide what to do about Adam, and in what condition we return him to Praxis,” Helen reminded him.

John pressed his head back into the pillow, groaning in annoyance. “This will cause quite the argument with your people,” he stated.

“They won’t be included. This is a desicion for you, me, and Nikola. It started with us and that’s how it will end,” Helen decided. It was their mess and they had to clean it up once and for all.

“If you think that’s best,” John replied. “Shall we get dressed and get a jump on this debate?” he asked. There was no way his mind would settle down now. They shared a look that had them both sighing. She pulled away and he sat up. John reached for the duffle, dragging it over, pulling out a pair dress pants. Standing, he pulled them up, doing up the zipper and buttoning them. He picked out his dark plum colored shirt, and then tossed it over to Helen. She caught it with a little chuckle.

“I did always like this shirt on you,” Helen commented, shrugging into it, buttoning the black buttons. She pulled the collar to her nose, breathing in the scent of him – cedar and vanilla. Pushing the sheet off of herself, she got out of bed, tugging the hem of the shirt down. This reminded her of how many of their mornings went after they became intimate. She wandered around the bed, going to him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind. When she pressed a kiss to his old scar, he didn’t flinch.

John sighed, resting his hands atop hers. She held him tightly, not wanting to let him go. It only strengthened his resolve to separate, to give them time to find their way back to each other without his notorious past getting in the way.  As much as he may not have wanted to, he used his powers, taking them to her room so that she could get dressed.

THE NEXT MORNING:

Will Zimmerman had spent the rest of the night stewing over the way Magnus had spoken to him. It had kept him up, replaying it in his mind, working him up more and more. He finally had to stop and focus on something else. When morning came around, he was somewhat settled down. He thought he was ready to get back to normal and attend the typical morning staff meeting. Except, as he drew closer to the office, he saw everyone standing outside the closed doors. “What’s going on?”

“Magnus, Druitt, and Tesla are inside,” Biggie answered with a little grunt.

“Do we know what they’re talking about?” Will asked, looking at all of them.

“They’ve been in there since last night,” Henry answered and then jumped when Kate hit his arm.

“So, what, we’re just supposed to sit out in the hall waiting for them to remember we all exist?” Will asked in a huff. When no one replied, he shook his head, waiting with the rest of them.

“Seems so,” Kate stated with a shrug of her shoulders.

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Are we really sure we want to do this?” Nikola asked.

“We have to have to consensus or not at all,” John said resolutely. He shifted in his seat, tugging on the fabric of his shirt that carried the faint trace of Helen’s scent.

“Does it really matter what my vote is? You two are obviously in agreement over this, and besides, there are only three of us left,” Nikola reminded them. It was one of the most depressing things he’d said recently.

“Whether it’s three or five of us, we all have to agree,” Helen stated gently, sitting opposite John in the red leather armchair.

“Why don’t you let Johnny off his leash and let him have at Hyde,” Tesla suggested with a wave of his hand as he paced in front of the fireplace. He wasn’t entirely convinced that the onboard elemental had been completely excised from the lunatic.

“No, thank you,” John responded with a shake of his head. He cast a look to Helen, letting her know he was unbothered by Nikola’s comment. There would be worse ones yet to come.

“John already let him drown the first time,” Helen replied, holding John’s gaze.  

“And we see how well that worked out,” Nikola commented darkly.

“We stop all of Helen’s treatments, put him into a medically induced coma, and let the radiation sickness take him,” John proposed. The moment they convened last night, they agreed to stop administering sedatives.

“Isn’t that a bit too merciful? We could inject him with acid and let his blood boil from the inside out?” Nikola countered ruefully.

“By ‘we’ you mean Helen or myself,” John remarked with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, no, I think I’ll do it,” Nikola stated.

“Adam has suffered enough,” Helen told both of them. “He never asked for Hyde to control his life. We need to consider Adam and show him a little mercy.”

“Fine, put him in the coma,” Nikola scoffed, relenting to doing it Helen’s way. They always ended up doing it her way.

John looked at Helen saying, “Coma.”

“Now that we’re all in agreement,” Helen said, rising from the chair. John stood with her. The three of them heard the rumblings of conversation outside. They already knew they weren’t going out the door.

John reached out to Helen, resting his hand politely on her shoulder. She, in turn, gripped his elbow, giving it a little squeeze. Reluctantly, Nikola moved closer, his arms crossed over his chest and his usual pout firmly fixed on his lips. John gripped his right shoulder, taking them to the OR.

When they arrived, Helen went immediately to the med cabinet, searching for the right mix of drugs that would put Adam into a coma. John and Nikola went into the secured room, disconnecting the infusion pump that was delivering his anti-radiation meds. They worked quietly, knowing that their deranged little charge was semi-awake as it was.

Helen came in, carrying a syringe. She looked at both John and Nikola – who in turn nodded to her, silently conveying Worth was disconnected from everything but the bag of saline solution.  John stayed where he was on the right side of the bed while Nikola came over to her, taking the syringe. Helen went to stand next to John, hoping to direct Adam and Hyde’s attention on them, so he wasn’t paying attention to Nikola. “Adam,” Helen called to him softly.

“Not available,” Hyde snarled and then groaned before opening his eyes taking in the sight of Helen and John standing together.

“Let us talk to him,” John said, picking up on Helen’s game.

“Oh, Johnny, still lapping at Helen’s heels I see. Do you ever get tired of begging for scraps?” Hyde asked snidely.

“At least I’m man enough to admit that I beg,” John replied, issuing a heavy sigh conveying how boring he found the whole discourse. “What do you do besides insult us and bluster about your own intelligence?”

“I wanted to let you know that we made it to the city, encountering no problems along the way,” Helen said in a smug fashion. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nikola insert the needle into the IV line, depressing the plunger.

“That’s not right…” Hyde replied out of genuine confusion.

“I hate to break it to you, but all your machinations were for naught,” Helen informed him ruefully. Then, a dark expression came over her face. “Now, let me talk to Adam,” she bit out dangerously.

In the blink of an eye, Hyde’s sneer vanished, and the placid, calm face of Adam appeared. “Helen? What’s happening”

“Adam, it’s good to see you again. We wanted to thank you for all your help,” Helen answered softly.

“You got there alright?” Adam asked.

“We did, due to your help,” Helen reiterated.

Adam blinked, groaning slightly. “Something’s not right…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, but Hyde is too dangerous,” Helen said now that the drug cocktail had time to take effect.

“You can’t do this,” Hyde snarled, having taken over in a split second. He fought against his bonds.

John pulled Helen back from the side of the bed. “Too late, the deed is done,” he stated, keeping hold of her arm.  She patted his thigh, telling him it was time to leave. “Come on, Nikola, we’re going,” he spoke, guiding Helen over to the door. He kept his hand firmly in place at the small of her back.

“Enjoy,” Nikola commented happily, giving Hyde one last, smug smirk before joining Helen and John on the other side of the door.

Helen traded places with Nikola, going to the keypad to change the code. She wouldn’t let anyone but the three of them in there until Adam/Hyde was on his last hours of life.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It had taken a couple of days, but Adam was mercifully on his final hours of life. Their decision had caused quite the outrage with Will, starting another row between him and Helen. Naturally, she came out the victor in the argument while John and Nikola sat back, not getting involved until she needed one of them.

Each former Victorian had taken to sitting with Worth, monitoring his vitals, changing out the saline solution when needed. John had traded places with Nikola, letting the former vampire free to indulge in his wine obsession. He sat in the vacant chair, opening a book, getting comfortable for the next two hours. Periodically, he would look up at the camera, wondering who was watching him. Then, he would smirk, shaking his head, turning his attention back to the book in his hand.

From the office, Helen kept an eye on John. He was as relaxed and calm as she’d ever seen him. Movement in her periphery had her looking up, seeing her faithful manservant looking grim. “Has Will returned?” she asked. After their argument, he’d stormed out. It was Henry who had told her that Will needed a few days away.

“No,” Biggie grumbled. “He’ll come back when he’s cooled down.”

“Are you questioning my judgement too?” Helen asked. The others had to think she was insane for letting John back into her life. They didn’t understand that she and John were bound together through blood and love.

“I would never do that,” Biggie responded, flicking his gaze to the monitors, curling his lip at Druitt.

“He’s not a threat anymore,” Helen said, reading the expression.

“You only hope he’s not a threat,” Biggie grumbled.

Helen nodded, respecting the concern he was showing. She checked on John again, seeing he had moved from his chair. Then he appeared in her office. “What’s happening?” she asked, standing up.

“His vitals are dropping,” John answered as he moved around the desk, reaching for her hand.

“Get Nikola down there,” Helen said before vanishing with John.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn’t much longer before Adam’s vitals flatlined. Helen waited a few extra minutes before calling time of death. She shut off the monitors and removed the IV from his arm. They stood around in silence, each relieved that this chapter of their history was finally closed.

“What do we do with him now?” John asked quietly.

“We put him in a body bag and deliver him to Praxis,” Helen replied. She had to honor her word and return Adam to Rana.

“Or we could put him in a box with a big red bow. Rigor won’t set in for hours. It wouldn’t be hard to fold him up,” Nikola stated darkly.

“Really, Nikola,” Helen admonished.

“Gallows humor,” John commented. “That’s not really appropriate.”

“You were a lot more fun before,” Nikola replied sarcastically. “Why waste a body bag on him. You’ve got plenty of packing crates around here. Shove him in one and be done with it.”

“Death doesn’t erase what he’s done, but we won’t desecrate his corpse simply because we don’t like him. We’re better than that,” John replied, shaking his head.

“Well, whatever it is you do with him, you’re not leaving me behind this time,” Nikola groused.

TBC....

Chapter Text

TWO WEEKS LATER:

Life around the Sanctuary was fraught with tension in the wake of Adam Worth’s demise. Will had come back after John had departed. Helen had tried to mend the fences, but he wasn’t having it. They had butted heads more than a few times over what had transpired in Hollow Earth. She let him have his opinion, choosing to set everything aside to continue her work. At the moment, she was in the lab waiting for a few tests to finish running. Helen took her phone out of her coat, calling up John’s number.  When the call connected, she asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m in London, staying at my old residence.”

“How is it working with MI6?” Helen asked, having called in the favor for him. Since then, she hadn’t called, hadn’t checked on him. She was showing him trust. It was nice to know that he’d returned to his home. James had purchased it, maintained it, and kept it as a reminder that John had been someone they cared for once.

“They have me tracking down information right now. It’s menial work, but it’s keeping my mind occupied.”

Helen smiled, loving the sound of his rich voice filling her ear. She had almost forgotten what he could sound like without the edge of darkness coloring his tone. It had always been so warm and happy. “Keeping your mind occupied is the most important thing at the moment.”

“How are you feeling?”

Helen knew that was coming. She sighed and said, “I’m already missing you.” She had grown used to him being there, feeling his presence fill the room, or finding his eyes on her. It should have shocked her at how quickly her body became attuned to him again. It didn’t but it should have.

“Have things improved between you and Dr. Zimmerman?”

“Not really,” Helen answered. “I don’t expect them to for a while. Will feels betrayed by my choices and my actions. I’m giving him time and space to work through his disappointment, his resentment, and his anger,” she muttered. At the end of the day, she chose herself, she chose John over Adam Worth.

“He’s a victim of his modernity. He thinks good and evil are black and white. This is the first time he’s been faced with a morally grey choice, and he can’t handle that you chose the lesser of two evils.”

“I think he was getting attached to Adam,” Helen whispered, ignoring that John had called himself evil. “There was a part of Will that believed that Adam could take control, that Hyde could be made dormant.”

“We both know that’s not true. Some conditions can’t be fixed. Time only makes them worse. There was nothing we could’ve done for him. Not during our hunt. Not now.”

“I know that, and you know that. Will’s having to learn the hard way and not coping with it very well,” Helen said wishing she could make this easier for him. Will was angry.  “He still thinks I….”

“Wasted your favor on me. I heard.”

“Yes, but you left before you heard me defend you. I said things to him I’ve never contemplated saying to anyone. Not even Nikola. He made me so angry and when I’m exhausted….”

“Your patience is non-existent. I’ve been on the receiving end of your exhausted anger more than a few times.”

“I showed him my dark side that day,” Helen confessed.  “It’s not the first time he’s seen it, but it’s the first time I knowingly reacted with anger and directed it at him.”

“His feelings are hurt, and like you said, he can’t move on yet. Helen, your Dr. Zimmerman is still a child. He’s lived but he’s barely experienced life and everything that comes with it. Try as you might, he’s not always going to see things your way.”

“I know that,” Helen replied with another sigh. His experience with their world had happened at a young age – too young to process what had happened. It colored his view of their work, whether he knew it or not.

“Then, suck it up. You can handle this, handle him being in a snit.”

“Did you really tell me to ‘suck it up’?” Helen asked with a real laugh coloring her words.

“I did and it made you laugh. Unfortunately, I have to go now. I’ll talk to you soon.”

The line went dead before Helen could respond. “Talk soon,” she muttered, putting her phone back in her pocket.  She sighed, propping her chin on the heel of her hand as her elbow rested on the table.

TBC....

Chapter Text

It had been nearly a week since Helen had spoken to John. Nikola had pulled a vanished act – as he always did when he got bored. Having both of them gone helped to ease the tensions a little. She and Kate were walking down the hall towards her office when a curious smell caught her attention. It was lilacs. A smile curved her lips as she lengthened her stride, walking faster towards the door. She entered the office, half expecting to find John there. Her heart raced in anticipation of seeing him. The room was empty, however, except for the large vase on her desk of white and dark purple lilacs.

“Whoa… doc, who sent those?” Kate asked, after having caught up with Magnus.

“John’s been here,” Helen answered lightly. He said he would send gifts, not that he would personally deliver them. Today, she wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t linger to give them to her personally. She walked over, seeing that the vase wasn’t the only gift left for her. She picked up the box and opened it without hesitation. Inside, there was a black lace mask on a bed of crimson tissue paper. A little shiver raced through, knowing exactly what message was meant to be conveyed by this.

Kate was nosey by nature; she couldn’t help it. She peered at the black lace, asking, “What’s that about?”

“He’s feeling nostalgic,” Helen answered cryptically. Her phone started to buzz. Taking it out, she saw his name. “Excuse me, Kate, I have to take this,” she said, walking out with the thin box still in her hands. Answering, she immediately asked, “Where are you?”

“Monaco.”

“What’re you doing there?” Helen wondered, walking down the stairs, heading for John’s room.

“I’m trying to keep Nikola out of trouble as he relieves a casino of some of its wealth. He’s currently entertaining himself with roulette. Don’t worry, I’m keeping my eye on him.”

“You and Nikola working together, now that’s a recipe for disaster,” Helen replied sarcastically. John laughed and she had to grip the railing. That sound made her weak in the knees.  Regaining her composure, she made it down to the next floor. She opened the door to his room, disappearing inside. Before she could stop herself, she turned the lock.

“How are you feeling?”

“A little nostalgic,” Helen answered in a playful tone, setting the mask on the bedside table. She took off her heels, and then stretched out on the bed. John had left her one of his shirts folded neatly on the pillow for her to find when she woke up. It was the dark purple shirt he’d given her to wear.

“In what way?”

“I’m wearing your shirt,” Helen answered, giving him a coy little chuckle. “What would you do if you were here in your bedroom with me?”

“Be careful with what you start, Helen.”

“I can handle you,” Helen reminded him. It had him chuckling, deep and dark. She bit her bottom lip, savoring the sound, giving him a little encouraging moan.

“In that case, I’d kiss you deeply, invading every one of your senses.”  

Helen licked her lips, closing her eyes, imagining him doing that. Her mind conjured the feel of his hand cupping the back of her head, his fingers curling into her hair as he controlled the kiss. It would be slow at first, a lazy dance of lips. Then the intensity would grow, the power of the kiss would muddy her mind until he was her sole focus.

“I’d tilt your head back slightly, nipping the corner of your mouth, then I’d lavish attention on your pulse, making your need for me burn hotter.”

Helen gasped lightly. She touched her pulse, noticing it had sped up a little. Pushing her head back into the pillow, angling her head to the side, imagining his lips there. Her hand wandered down, undoing the button at the hollow of her throat. She moaned softly for him. He echoed her, his deep rumbling moan filled her head, fueling her desire for him.

“My hands certainly would not remain idle. I’d undo the top three buttons of your shirt, being sure to place a heated kiss to every inch if skin I revealed to my ravenous gaze.”

Helen’s body heated with arousal. She unbuttoned the next two buttons of her shirt, following John’s direction. Then, she lightly touched the tip of her middle finger to her chest, drawing it up wishing his lips were against her, driving her wild with eager anticipation. “John…” she moaned his name and then sighed. She pressed her thighs together, sending a small burst of pleasure through her body.

“My God, Helen, the way you moan my name…you are testing the limits of my control.”

The spell of the moment was broken by Helen’s phone buzzing with an incoming text. She groaned in annoyance pulling her phone away from her ear. The message was from Henry, saying he needed her help with a problem. Helen frowned, putting the phone back to her ear. “I’m sorry John, I have to go this time.”

“I think that’s for the best. Nikola is starting to garner some unwanted attention.”

“Talk soon,” Helen said and ended the call. She heard the strain in his voice, telling her that she had nearly pushed him too far. This separation was supposed to mend their feelings towards each other. The pain of his evil was already starting to dull, even though the memories would never fade. They would never forget everything that happened, but they were ready to move on from it. She didn’t want to admit that he was right, and this was working. Helen lightly hit the back of her head against the pillow, growling in frustration.

TBC....

Chapter Text

John had resisted calling Helen for nearly two weeks after their last phone call. He had almost gone to her that day. It would have done more harm to their fragile relationship than it would have done them good. They needed to take this slow. It killed him to be away from her and each time he thought he would go to her, he reminded himself of all the times he had terrorized her, broke her trust, and made her life a living hell. He was rebuilding that trust brick by brick. For a few minutes he paced back and forth of the bedroom of the hotel where he was staying in Paris debating if he would call.

When all was said and done, John needed to hear Helen’s voice. He went to the dresser where he had his phone and picked it up. Calling up her number, he initiated the call. As soon as it connected, he expected her to ask where he was. She didn’t say anything. Immediately, he was concerned. “Helen?” He heard her sniffle.

“John… I need… you…”

“Where are you?” John asked quickly.

“My office…”

“Put the phone down and look up,” John said, teleporting to her. The moment he arrived, he found her curled on the couch, her eyes red and her cheeks wet from her tears. She left her phone on the couch, getting up, and going quickly into his open arms. He held her close, pressing his cheek to the top of her head. “What happened?” he asked softly. She shook her head, crying. Her tears were soaking into his shirt. “I’m here,” he said lovingly. John looked out the window, seeing it was night and it was pouring down rain.

Helen let John’s presence steady her before she started talking. She breathed in slowly, exhaling a shuddering breath, trying to keep the tears from rising. “I was sitting at my desk catching up on some work and out of nowhere I had this thought, something that I wanted to tell Ashley. My hand reached for the phone…. For a split second I forgot she was….” The tears came again, and her words were cut off with a sob.

“Oh, Helen…” John felt her sorrow as his own. She clutched at him tightly, hiding her face against the side of his neck.  “Put your arms around my neck, I’m taking you to your room,” he said, his voice breaking. She didn’t fight him. She looped her arms around the back of his neck, keeping her face hidden. Her tears were soaking into his black turtleneck. John swept her up into his arms, teleporting them to her bedroom.

The moment John arrived, he carried her over to the bed, setting her down gently. She let go of him, moving over, making room for him. John joined her, bringing her back in against him, holding her in silence. The sound of her sobs broke his heart. Tears gathered in his eyes, the pain he carried over Ashley’s loss broke open inside him. Silently, they tracked down his cheeks as he held Helen, pressing little kisses to the top of her head, rocking back and forth with her.

In a broken voice, Helen sobbed, “I lost our daughter, John.” Guilt was a dangerous emotion. She should have done more, tried harder.

“No, our daughter was taken from us,” John said, shaking his head. This time when he voiced those words, they weren’t filled with anger. They were filled with anguish.

The despair in his voice cut through Helen’s grief. She leaned back, looking up at him. His cheeks were stained with tears. She sat up, her hands immediately going to his cheeks, her thumbs rubbing back and forth. “You never got the chance the to mourn,” she said softly and full of sorrow.

“Not in this way,” John answered, leaning into her touch. “Killing the Cabal fixed nothing. It didn’t bring her back. It only made this hole bigger.” He punctuated each word by driving his fingertips into his chest, right above his heart. All the grief he should have felt had been drowned out by rage, by the need to inflict violence on those who had taken his child. Now that it was quiet in him again, he had nothing to dull the sorrow.

Helen brought him close, touching her brow to his. He brought his hands up, mirroring her, holding her face gently. They started to breathe together. In slowly. Out in a shaky exhale. This time when she spoke, her voice was a bit stronger. “The only consolation I have is that Dana can never to this to anyone else.”

“I didn’t kill her,” John confessed. She was instantly shocked by this. “Death is for an enemy you respect. I didn’t respect her. I wanted her to suffer.” His voice took on an edge that was reminiscent of the ripper.

“What did you do?” Helen asked, knowing she was ready to hear what fate befell the woman that took away her precious child.

“I tortured her, giving her so many psychotropic drugs that I made her a prisoner of her own mind. I left her paralyzed, her face mutilated, and in the questionable care of some shady people,” John answered, each word filled with shame. He’d been proud of what he’d done to her back then. Poetic justice and all that. Now, the memory of those screams haunted him. John pulled away, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, hiding his face in his hands.

Helen didn’t think twice about wrapping her arms around him, about holding him.  “You did the only thing you could do,” she said, giving him the absolution he needed. “You got revenge for both of us because you knew I didn’t have the strength to do it myself.” The darkest parts of Helen had waited for John to come tell her it was done. When he stayed away, that desire faded until she could put in a box and lock it away.

“I never want to be that angry again, Helen,” John said, shaking his head, feeling more tears gathering in his eyes. “The one thing I should have been able to do as her father was bring her back to you and I failed…” He was the one to hide his face against the side of her neck. She continued to hold him, to run her hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him as best she could. There was no way to stop the despair. He had to go through it.

Helen waited for him to settle. She moved back into the center of the bed, bringing him in against her this time. He curled around her, resting his head on her abdomen. Lightly, she stroked the back of his head, the short strands of his growing hair tickling her fingertips. “Our daughter was the very best of you,” she whispered. The worst of her sorrow had faded into the background. “She had your wicked sense of humor.” He gave her a soft watery chuckle as he placed a kiss to her belly. “Ashley could be stubborn like us, but also fiercely loyal to those she loved.”

“I bet she was an unholy terror as a child,” John whispered.

“Which she got from you,” Helen responded gently.

“I was a well-mannered child, thank you,” John stated.

“I’m sure,” Helen replied with a little smirk.

They lapsed into silence, each absorbed with their own thoughts, their own regrets, and their own hopes for their future together. Helen hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she turned over in bed, finding herself alone. John was gone, but he left a note for her with a single yellow rose. His message promised that he would call soon.

TBC....

Chapter Text

Over the next few weeks, Helen and John had gone back to calling each other. There was a new sense of ease between them after that night. Helen was in her office, taking care of some paperwork that needed to be submitted, supply orders that needed to be signed, and maintenance requests that needed to be approved. It wasn’t all hunting abnormals and saving the world. She had just signed the last digital request when Will came in, a box in his hand. They were still tense with each other.

“The Big Guy sent me up with this. Grunted something about being busy,” Will said, setting it on the desk.

“Thank you,” Helen responded politely. She pulled the parcel over, seeing it was from Germany. Furrowing her brow, she inspected the box and found a J drawn on one side in calligraphy. She couldn’t help the smile that came over her as she opened it. Inside, buried in shredded packing cardboard, she found a velvet necklace box and a note. She flipped open the white card, seeing John’s handwriting: Sometimes a piece is all you get back.

Will watched the way Magnus’s face changed. “Something you were expecting?” he asked before he thought better of it. He hadn’t been able to forgive her for what she’d done to Adam. The man had a psychiatric condition and she’d let him die while choosing to save Jack the Ripper of all people.

Helen didn’t have the chance to answer when her phone buzzed like a heartbeat. It was what she set for John when he called. She had gotten to the point that every call that came in, she expected it to be him. So, she set the identifying tone for him alone. “I have to take this, if you don’t mind,” she said professionally.

“Sure, not like we have anything important to do…” Will muttered, walking out.

“Where are you?” Helen asked after answering John’s call.

“I’m in Rome.”

“What’re you doing there?” Helen wondered, looking out the window. The sun was shining on a clear day. For him, it had to be night already.

“I’m tracking down a museum artifact that had been sold on the black market. The little gremlin we dealt with while trying to find the keystone gave up his list of clients.”

“I’m certain he remembered you. After all, you dangled him from a girder at the top of Big Ben,” Helen reminded him with a bit of a snicker.

“That was your idea.”

“It was,” Helen acknowledged with a little grin. She could still recall the self-satisfied smirk he had on his face as he said he was getting a cramp and the way the little man gave up all his information.

“How are you feeling?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” Helen replied. He stayed silent on the other end, waiting for her to answer him. “I’m still feeling a little raw from that night. I’m back to looking up and expecting to see her. I long to hear her voice, listen to her laugh. I even miss hearing one of her tirades when she’s worked up. What about you?” Helen couldn’t keep the slight tremor from her voice.

“I’m still finding it hard knowing that I love her so much and I barely knew her, knew what she liked, what she hated. I have no right to be this destroyed…”

“John you were her father, you fought to bring her home, and you have a right to feel this way. She was the best thing we ever did in our lives,” Helen meant it to sooth him. She heard him clear his throat, and knew it meant he was going to change the subject away from the difficult topic.

“Has my gift arrived?”

“It has,” Helen answered softly, picking up the velvet box. She opened it, seeing a tear-shaped ruby the length of her thumb on a long slim silver chain. “John…?” She removed it, holding it in the palm of her hand. 

“I call it the Vampire’s Tear. It’s a synthetic gem. Germany has some of the best gem makers in the world, do you know that? I found one who could make this specifically for us. If you hold it up to the light, you’ll see the center has been hollowed out. It’s filled with Ashley’s blood.”

Helen immediately held it up to the light, barely making out the shifting blood inside. She truly didn’t know what to say.

“You buried an empty casket. This is my way of trying to give you a piece of her back. When I was on my revenge tour of the Cabal, I came across the lab where they turned her into.... They still had a sample of her blood. I took it and, in my rage, I razed the building to the ground.”

“You kept it all this time?” Helen asked out of surprise. No evil thoughts popped into her head over his motivations for keeping the blood.

“I don’t know why. Did I overstep…?”

“No,” Helen answered, shaking her head. She slipped the chain over her head, settling the ruby under her shirt, feeling it resting in the valley between her breasts. “I hope you had one made for yourself,” she whispered. As much as she needed this, she knew John needed it too. He had been with her every step of the way as they hunted down information on Ashley, as they tried to get her back.

“I’m waiting for your permission before I before I put mine on.”

Helen smiled sadly at the tone of his voice. Uncertain and cautious. “You can put it on,” she said softly. She waited a few minutes before asking, “When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know. Talking on the phone seems to be working for us. At least, I hope it is.”

“What is it that you hope to achieve with this?” Helen inquired, getting up from her desk, wandering over to the window. She plucked the man made ruby out from under her shirt, holding it in her hand. His absence was making her heart grow fonder of him day by day.

“Perhaps I’m hoping that when you think of me, it’ll be a smile instead of a grimace. When you hear my voice, you’ll have a warm rush of feeling and it’ll make you happy beyond all reason. I guess, with this little experiment, I’m trying to remind you of all the positive things I could make you feel.”

“You could do all that by actually being with me,” Helen stated. Everything he was trying to do; he was succeeding at. Each time he called; she was thrilled to speak to him even if it was for a few minutes at a time.

“Not while there is still discord within your house. I have no wish to make the situation harder for you. This is what we need.”

 A small knock drew Helen’s attention away from the view outside her window. Kate and Henry were waiting. She motioned for them to give her a few seconds. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“I love you.”

Helen sighed when the line went dead. “He never gives me the chance to respond,” she whispered, looking at her phone.

TBC....

Chapter Text

John woke in his bed, lamenting that he was alone.  He stretched out his right arm wishing Helen was there, warm and still sleeping for him to curl around. The cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was in the pattern of a heartbeat. She’d told him it was what she had set for him, so she knew instantly that it was him. It was only fair of him to do the same. John tapped the green button, waiting for her to speak. They didn’t greet each other with ‘Hi’s’ or “Hello’s’. It was too mundane for them.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Seville, lying in bed,” John answered softly. He closed his eyes, feeling the edges of sleep still clinging to his mind. It helped him to conjure her face, imagining her standing by the window in her office, staring out at the city she had chosen to make her home in. Drawing in a lazy breath, he imagined she was wearing a simple black skirt, stockings, black heels, and a satin blouse of teal. He issued a sigh mixed with a little moan.

“What drew you there?”

“Mmm, nothing really,” John said with a lazy sort of shrug. “I’m getting tired of playing fetch for MI6,” he commented with a little grumble. Then, because his body needed it, he stretched. He pressed his head into the pillow, his back arched, and his arms stretched out.  John groaned loudly as he relaxed his body, returning the phone to his ear.

“God, I miss watching you stretch in the morning.”

“You do, do you?” John asked playfully. He smiled, enjoying hearing that she missed things about him. It was a great stride forward for them that she had said it unprompted.

“I’ve always loved the way your body moves, seeing your muscles tense, admiring the way your back arches…”

John laughed in a low, sensual tone that he imagined had her shivering with delight on the other end of the line. It pleased him to know he could still get her to react to him. “What else do you miss?” he asked.

“I miss waking up in your arms, feeling safe and warm.”

“I woke up wishing you were in bed next to me,” John replied softly. He heard the way she sighed, hearing the smile that came after it. “How are you feeling?” he asked, shifting in bed, placing his left hand under his head.

“I’m feeling as if we need to discuss adding new terms to our arrangement.”

“Is that so? And what terms would you like to add?” John grinned wickedly. Helen’s voice was playful in a way he’d not heard in a long time. He could almost see the naughty glint in her eyes while she prepared to tell him what it was she wanted.

“Would you be amenable to spending two hours with me when you can manage?”

“I think we can try that,” John agreed. “To be respectful of your busy schedule, I’ll call first.”

“Agreed. When we end our conversations, don’t just hang up. Let me respond.”

“In whatever way you’re comfortable with,” John added. He only ended their calls the way he did because he didn’t want to pressure her into saying something she wasn’t ready to say. They were slowly making their way back to one another. “Might I be permitted to call you ‘darling’ again?” he asked.

“It would please me if you did so.”

“I’ve truly missed calling you that,” John replied softly, letting the happiness fill his voice.

“Good. Now, about MI6. If you need a break from them, I have a friend who could use your talents. She works with Doctor’s Without Borders, and she goes into some dangerous places.”

“I am good at getting out of sticky situations,” John said with a little chuckle. “Send me her contact details and I’ll reach out.”

“Her name is Bethany Anwar. She’s a Therianthrope.”

“Noted,” John commented. “How are things between you and Dr. Zimmerman? Have hostilities ceased?” On the other end of the line, he heard Helen take a deep breath and exhale slowly.

“He’s stopped sulking for the most part. We can work, but he’s still not trusting me. Adam really affected him.”

John sat up, rubbing the back of his head, mussing his short cap of dark hair. “Adam got to us all in one way or another. It’s easy to feel sorry for him as Hyde’s victim. That’s what has Will tangled up. He saw Adam as a victim. In the beginning that was the case. Thinking back on it now, not all of what we stopped was Hyde. Adam had a hand in it too.”

“Once his daughter died, there was no going back for him. Hyde had taken greater control and…”

“Became the dominant personality,” John finished.  Since their separation, he’d taken to reading medical journals again – especially those on the mind. He wanted to exercise his intelligence, learning new things, absorbing new ideas.

“I wish I could have helped Adam, but there wasn’t a way to separate him from Hyde. We gave him what mercy we could.”

“I’m sure your Dr. Zimmerman will come to that conclusion soon enough,” John said, trying to give her some measure of hope. “Have you heard from your father?” he asked carefully.

“No, and I don’t expect to. Gregory has never been the best with his communication.”

“What about Praxis? Have you heard if they were displeased by the condition in which we returned Adam?” John asked. He had waited for weeks for her to tell him about the fallout of their final visit.

“I’ve heard nothing from them either. It was as if they expected his corpse rather than a live body.”

“So, that’s another wonder of the world closed to us,” John commented with a little groan of disappointment. The chance to explore a new place had brought such a light to Helen’s eyes that he’d not seen in a long time.

“I have to go, John. Henry needs me.”

“I love you, darling,” John said softly.

“I miss you.”

John ended the call, setting the phone on his chest face down. He breathed out slowly, reminding himself they were making progress. It was time to get up, get changed, and wait for the contact information Helen was going to send him. Until then, he was thinking about the next gift that he was going to send her. It would be intimate and certainly for his eyes only.

TBC....

Chapter Text

Helen hadn’t been able to contact John in nearly a month. He was working with Bethany in some war-torn regions of Africa. She had her people keeping an eye out for them, relaying their location and if they were in trouble back to her. It kept her a little on edge, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. Her people had picked up on her unease. In an effort to keep tensions from rising too high, she gave them all the night off.

Down in the lab, Helen had thought she might try to do a little work. She had turned on the monitors, calling up information on a new intake when John appeared with an unconscious seventy-year-old Bethany in his arms. “What happened?” she asked, going to them immediately.

“We ran afoul of some unsavory types who took exception to the good doctor rendering medical aid to those displaced by all the border wars happening,” John answered. “A bullet grazed her temple, knocking her out.”

“Let’s get her up to the infirmary,” Helen ordered, reaching out to touch John’s right arm. Without any further prompting, they vanished. The moment they appeared, John set her down on the nearest gurney, moving back, letting Helen take a look.

“She’s pretty tough, and spry for her age,” John commented, walking around to the other side. He had seen her face down men younger than her, forcing them to capitulate to her. It had to be her abnormal side, or so he quietly assumed.

“I met her when she was twenty. She wanted to be a doctor, but not one that sat in an office all day. Bethany has been doing this type of work from the moment she graduated,” Helen told him while she cleaned the wound. This graze wouldn’t be enough to keep her down, due in large part to her abnormal nature.

“I couldn’t imagine doing anything else,” Bethany grumbled, waking up. She shooed Helen’s hands away, sitting up. “I’m not dead yet.”

“You keep this up and you will be,” Helen said in a caring manner.

“Where do you find men like him?” Bethany asked, pointing to her companion for the last month. “He’s quick, smart, and pretty good in a fight. Not to mention, easy to look at.”

“If you mean John specifically, I got him in the 1880’s,” Helen stated with a smug smile. “They don’t make them like they used to,” she added with a little sigh.

“Why thank you,” John commented, giving Helen a little wink. He threaded his fingers through his hair, combing the strands back, securing it at the nape of his neck. His hair was at that annoying length that fell below his ears. It was long enough to tie back, but the errant strands wouldn’t stay restrained.

“As for you, you’re staying here until morning,” Helen said to Bethany. There was no need for her to rush off back into danger until she was clear headed. “Your skull has taken a good knock, you need rest.”

Bethany started to get up, but her old body protested. Sinking back into the mattress, she rolled her eyes, saying, “This is at least more comfortable than some of the rickety cots I’ve been sleeping on lately.”

“That’s your fault. I offered to take you to nice hotels to sleep,” John responded, laughing lightly.

“And I told you not to fuss. I roughed it when I was a kid, I roughed it as an adult, and I’ll die roughing it,” Bethany snapped back in a playful manner. She turned her attention back to Helen and said, “You better not let this one go. He stayed in uncomfortable conditions to make sure I didn’t kick it in my sleep.”

Helen rested her hand on Bethany’s shoulder, giving it an affectionate pat. “Get some rest,” she said, moving away from the bed. John fell in step with her as she headed for the door. She already knew Bethany would pretend to rest while she waited to slip out, to make her way back into trouble.

Out in the hall, John kept his hands at his sides, waiting for her to make the first move. “This isn’t how I imagined initiating our first two hours together,” he said softly. “I know I promised to call, but I had no cell service and her sat phone got shot to pieces on my first day with her.”

“John, this is fine,” Helen assured him. “It’s extenuating circumstances. At the very least, you’ll be here till the morning,” she said hopefully.

“Provided I’m not causing trouble by being here,” John replied.

“My people are taking the night off. Henry is in his lab, fiddling with some project completely absorbed. Will has gone to spend the evening with a young lady, and Kate is off doing whatever she does,” Helen informed him, taking a step closer to him. He followed suit, meeting her in the middle of the hall. She reached out, placing her hand on his chest, feeling the press of the synthetic ruby against her palm.

“Well deserved, I would imagine,” John replied lightly, taking another step towards her. He was in her personal space, leaving Helen to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. The light glinted off the silver chain around her neck. He reached up, touching it with the tip of his finger, tracing it until it disappeared under the fabric of her shirt.

“While we have this place to ourselves, I want us to watch one of Ashley’s favorite movies,” Helen said, biting her bottom lip. Neither of them were known to indulge in cinematic entertainment. She wanted to give him a piece of their daughter as well by sharing with him what Ashley had liked.

“I’d like that,” John replied, dropping his hand down to take hers, lacing their fingers together. She gently tugged on his hand, getting him to follow her down the hall. He would follow her anywhere.

Helen brought him to the media room. She left him by the couch and then moved over to the entertainment center, pulling THE MUMMY from the shelf of DVD’s. “I can’t tell you why this was her favorite film,” she said with a little chuckle, inserting the disc into the player. “Whenever she was having a bad day, or needed a laugh, I would find her in here watching it.”

John settled himself in the corner of the couch, his right arm stretched across the back waiting for Helen to come join him. His eyes were on the screen as the main menu started to play. “I can certainly say I’ve never watched this before,” he commented lightly. He was intrigued by it, however.

Helen sat down, immediately curling up against John’s side, resting her head on his chest. His arm came around her, holding her close. “She begged me for weeks to take her to see this in theatres. I couldn’t say no. She was so adorable with each one of her arguments,” she told him, laughing lightly. With the remote in her hand, she hit play.

John remained silent, wearing a small smile, imagining the way Ashely had badgered Helen to take her to see the movie. He didn’t think as he pulled on the chain he wore, lifting the ruby out from under his shirt. Closing his hand around the gem, he started to worry at the chain absentmindedly. His mind conjured a teenage Ashley, stating her case for why she should be taken to see the movie. It brought a little smile to his lips.

“Do you do that often?” Helen asked, watching him fiddle with the chain. She had been caught by the others doing the exact same thing when her mind wandered down memory lane to revisit Ashley.

John glanced at his hand, realizing he’d been caught. “I only do this when I think about her,” he answered softly, slipping the gem back inside his shirt.

“I do it too,” Helen told him softly, stretching her arm over his abdomen, her hand pressing against his side. She turned her attention back to the TV when the first scene flashed on. The sun was bright, bathing the Egyptian city with light.

“Thebes. City of the living. Crown jewel of Pharoah Seti I. Home of Imhotep, Pharaoh’s High Priest. Keeper of the dead. Birthplace of Anck-su-namun, Pharoah’s mistress. No other man was allowed to touch her…”

“As introductions go, that’s not a bad one,” John commented. They watched a doomed love affair result in murder, then suicide, and a failed resurrection. John grimaced at the punishment inflicted upon Imhotep. “Did none of those tattooed chaps think that laying down this curse was a bad idea? Invincibility? Powers beyond imagining? Not one of them had a moment where they thought they should have stopped? At least they have job security.”

Helen turned her face into his chest, chuckling. She was going to watch and enjoy John’s unique commentary. All too soon, she found herself lost in the unfolding tale as the scene shifted to a battle raging outside the city of the dead to see who would claim victory.

“Here comes the hero of the story, I take it,” John remarked. “And there goes his little friend,” he chuckled. The hero stood his ground, taking aim, taking down each rider he aimed at. In the end, he had to retreat. Their position being overrun by the enemy. “Oh, it’s the deserter,” John said with a little laugh. The hero was shouting at him to get inside, not realizing he was going to be left out in the danger. “This is not going to end well,” he muttered.

Helen cuddled closer watching Rick run, dive over a down pillar, and lose his gun. He was running for his life through the ruins, being herded into a dead end, trapped by the statue of Anubis. He scrunched up his face, waiting to be riddled with bullets. The horses reacted to some supernatural force, fleeing, giving Rick a reprieve.

“Oh, okay…” John mumbled when the hero was spared. An ominous voice whispered on the air as he turned, staring at the statue. Sand shot up, forcing him back as the voice grew louder. The hero did as the enemy had done and ran for it. High on a cliff, watching everything, figures clad in black were shown. “I take it they come into play later?”

“Just watch,” Helen replied softly. This reminded her of when they would go to the theatre. John would comment endlessly, offering little sarcastic remarks or observations that had her covering her mouth, trying not to laugh. Lucky for them both they had a private box which afforded him the freedom to chatter away.

The scene shifted, bringing the viewers to Cairo, to the Museum of Antiquity, and inside to the library, where a woman was returning books to their proper place on the top shelf.  “Sacred stones. Sculpture and Aesthetics. Socrates. Seth. Volumes I. Volume II. And Volume III.” Then she came to a book beginning with T and she looked over at the bookcase behind her. “Don’t do it…” John begged, seeing where this was headed. The ladder went straight up, the woman called out for help softly before crashing into the bookcase labeled S. “The most expensive game of dominoes ever…” he said with a slight grimace.

Helen frowned, shaking her head as the shelves continued to fall. “I would not want to clean that up,” she muttered.

"Nor would I,” John remarked in agreement.

“Look at this! Sons of the Pharaohs! Give me frogs! Flies! Locusts! Anything but you! Compared to you, the other plagues were a joy!”

“I am so very sorry. It was an accident.”

“My darling girl, when Ramses destroyed Syria. That was an accident. You are a catastrophe! Look at my library…”

“That’s a tad harsh,” John commented, bringing his hand up, cupping the back of Helen’s head lightly. He absentmindedly played with the strands of her hair while he continued to watch.

“A bit,” Helen agreed with a little nod.

An ominous thud had the heroine moving out of the disaster zone. John tensed, watching her walk into a quiet room with coffins on display. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, but when the mummified corpse popped up, he and Helen both jumped slightly. They shared an embarrassed look and then laughed. “Goes to show how engrossed we’re getting into this movie,” John chuckled.

“Yes, it’s been a long time since I could enjoy something like this,” Helen replied lightly. John hugged her closely. They watched as a map was revealed having been hidden inside an artifact.

“Now, there’s the promise of gold, what could go wrong with that?” John joked when a treasure map came into play, advancing the storyline.

The night slipped by as Helen and John lost themselves in the movie and all too soon the credits were rolling. “Did you enjoy it?” she asked, sitting up, turning to face him. He had his attention on the screen, reading the names that rolled by.

“I did,” John answered honestly. “I can see why this was Ashley’s favorite,” he added softly. It had action, adventure, humor, and a tiny bit of romance. “Thank you for letting me experience it with you.” John took her hand, lifting it to his lips, placing a kiss to her knuckles gently.

Helen freed her hand from his, then surprised him by gripping his wrist and bringing his hand up, pressing his palm to her cheek. “What shall we do now?” she asked, not wanting this evening to come to an end.

“The night seems pleasant enough. Would you care for a stroll around the city?” John offered politely. Being alone with her without a distraction was testing his control. He wanted her with a fierce passion that he’d managed to keep control of.

“I’m sorry?” Helen inquired, unsure if she heard him correctly. “You want to take a walk? Why?”

John sat up, taking his hand from her face, resting his wrist on her knee. He needed some part of him touching her. After one hundred years he was still completely touch starved for her. “I’m trying to be respectful. If I did what I really wanted to do…”

“Kiss me?” Helen supplied.

“Yes, and I wouldn’t stop. I’d take you to bed and I wouldn’t let you leave as I made up for over a hundred years of lonely nights, broken promises,” John replied, his voice strained.

“I wouldn’t say no, John,” Helen told him, giving him the permission she thought he needed.

John squeezed her knee, breathing out slowly. “I need time to reacquaint myself with my sanity, with my desire for you. I need…”

“To know it’s not an illusion,” Helen guessed. She had those days. When they went long periods of time not speaking, she wandered if she made the whole thing up and he was still enslaved to the elemental. Then, she would hear his voice, hear the warmth and love in it, and she knew they were going to be okay.

“Yes,” John said softly and with a tendril of fear that he was still dreaming of a world where he was free, of a second chance between him and Helen. Every moment of freedom he had, he savored. Each conversation they had, no matter the topic, left him happy beyond measure.

Helen stood up, offering him her hand. “Then, sir, I would enjoy taking the night air with you,” she said politely. Perhaps a little courtship couldn’t hurt. She had never known what it would be like to be eager to see him. They had barely spent any time apart during their early days. His time as a killer didn’t count. This was something new between them. They were building a new level of intimacy, of connection.

John rose from the couch, offering Helen his arm. Once they were touching, he teleported them outside the front gates. He looked out at the city with clear eyes and not a predator’s graze surveying his hunting grounds. They walked aimlessly, talking, laughing, and for spans of time not saying anything. At one point, John had draped his arm across Helen’s shoulders, bringing her in against his side. She went willingly, stretching her arm across his lower back, her hand resting on his side, just above the band of his pants. The world and time fell away from them.

Before Helen knew it, the sun was rising as they came around a bend in the walking path of the park. Quietly, they decided to take a bit of respite on a nearby bench watching the dark of night give way to the red hues of morning. Helen stayed close to his side, her temple resting against his cheek. She was going to savor having him with her. Somehow, she sensed, it would be some time before he came back.

John and Helen spent a few more hours in the park, letting the morning slip by. Humans came and went unaware that two immortals were sharing one of the best moments of their lives together. When the world finally intruded by growing too loud, they abandoned the bench, returning to their walk. Once they were in a secluded area, John used his powers, taking them back to the Sanctuary. They arrived in the foyer with a little laugh. “Well, Dr. Magnus, home safe and sound,” he said, taking her hand, bowing to give her a little kiss.

“Thank you, Mr. Druitt,” Helen responded with a broad grin. The easy air of the moment soon vanished when he stepped in close to her. His gaze held hers and the simmering tension they had was coming to the surface. “John,” she breathed out his name with a touch of heat.

“Might I be permitted to kiss your brow?” John asked politely with an edge to his voice. He was testing himself to see if he could keep control.

“Yes,” Helen said, giving him permission.  The moment his lips touched her skin, she gasped in a myriad of emotions – relief, contentment, excitement. They still had that spark between them. With every passing day it grew stronger. 

John stepped back, exhaling softly. “My control is getting better,” he commented lightly. It was tempting enough being close to her, feeling the heat of her.

“Your control has been exemplary,” Helen replied, wishing he had stayed close. She was about to invite him to breakfast when the sound of heels clicking on the stairs drew her attention.

“Dr. Magnus, hi. It’s so good to see you again,” Abby greeted coming down the stairs. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt, but she had to get back to the FBI.

“Hello, Abby, it’s lovely to see you as well,” Helen smiled, sensing John’s demeanor change behind her. She didn’t have to turn around to know he’d straightened his posture, dropped his hands to his sides, and wore a calm, friendly expression. “Was there something I could help you with?” she offered.

“Oh, no, Will and I were having breakfast, then we came back here so I could pick his brain on a few of my cases,” Abby rambled.  She noticed the tall man with dark hair standing behind the doctor, and without hesitation, she held out her hand, introducing herself. “Hi, I’m Abby Corrigan.”

Manners dictated that John reciprocate. He stepped around Helen, taking the young woman’s hand. “Montague John Druitt, charmed to meet you, Ms. Corrigan.” He bowed at the waist out of habit. When he stood up, he released her hand, giving her a polite smile.

“Wow, you’re tall,” Abby muttered with a goofy smirk.

“I get that a lot,” John responded, stepping back next to Helen while keeping his hands at his sides.

“Wait…Druitt…? As… as… as in…” Abby knew her mouth was hanging open. Her brain had started to place the name.

“You’ve already met Nikola Tesla,” John replied with a sigh, sidestepping the connection she was making.

“Seriously?” Abby asked in a shocked manner.

“The very same,” John confirmed with a little grunt.

Abby looked from Magnus to him and then a realization struck her. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Of course not, Ms. Corrigan, our evening was coming to an end,” John answered politely.

“I was going to invite you to breakfast,” Helen said, with a little bit of annoyance.

“Next time, promise,” John replied in a soft voice. He had spied Dr. Zimmerman at the top of the stairs and thought it best to withdraw.

“If Druitt’s here, murder and mayhem are sure to follow,” Will commented, trudging down the steps.

Helen sighed in irritation.

John didn’t let the comment bother him. In this situation, he would be the honorable man and leave. Turning to Helen, he whispered, “I’ll call you later.” Then, before departing, he placed another soft kiss to her brow.

Helen didn’t get the chance to respond. John vanished in the space between heart beats.

“He didn’t leave because of me, did he?” Abby asked awkwardly.

“No, John left to avoid being the object of Will’s ire,” Helen said, barely keeping the anger from her voice. Not trusting the next words out of her mouth, she excused herself, heading up to her office to work. She had honestly thought Will was starting to move beyond Adam Worth and the devastation that was Hyde.

Abby waited for Will to join her and then said, “Whatever you did, fix it.”

“Why do you assume I’m at fault?” Will asked quickly.

“You’re a guy, Will, you’re always going to be in the wrong. Even when you’re right, you’re still wrong,” Abby stated, and then started to move towards the door. “You obviously like working here, and this world agrees with you. Don’t let whatever is happening between you and Magnus ruin that.”

TBC....

Chapter Text

John had collected Bethany, returning her to her clinic, then she discharged him from service. She was going to take it easy – which he didn’t believe – with the promise she would contact him when she had need of him. That left him to return to London, where he found Nikola on his doorstep. The perpetual vagrant was in need of a place to stay for a little while. John knew he would need his head examined, because he gave in, letting Nikola stay with him.

The day was dreary with scattered showers of rain.  John retired to his bathroom, running a hot bath for himself. Once he was settled in the water, he reached for the three fingers of scotch he’d poured for himself. Seconds later, his phone buzzed on the wooden surface. A smile curved his lips, knowing it was Helen.

“Where are you?”

John heard the strain in Helen’s voice. “I’m in London, at home,” he answered gently. “Bethany has politely fired me for the time being,” he added with a little chuckle. “I’ve never been fired before. It’s an interesting experience.” He heard her chuckle over the line. Then, hoping she would hear it, he ran his free hand through the water.

“Was that…?”

“It was,” John confirmed. “I’m indulging in a bath. Today, I am feeling every one of my hundred and fifty years of life,” he replied, leaning his head back, groaning softly.

“You’re one hundred and fifty-two.”

“Oh, God… I am,” John said with a grimace.

“Have you always been this terrible at keeping track of your age?”

“What’s the point? I stopped counting at thirty,” John replied with a laugh. She echoed his amusement with a laugh of her own and he imagined her shaking her head at how ridiculous he sounded. “How are you feeling?” he asked. His ears picked up the sound of her pacing. She was mulling over some problem.

“Restless. Tense. Annoyed. Take your pick.”

“Are you alone?” John inquired. He knew she needed a distraction the same way he did. A few days had passed since their long walk through her city.  The brief encounter with Dr. Zimmerman told him the young man was still stewing in his anger and resentment. There was nothing for him and Helen to do about it. To distract her, he was going to test the limits of his control with this call.

“I’m on the North Tower hiding from everyone.”

“If you were here, what would you do to me?” John asked in a low, sensual voice. He heard her inhale sharply. “Come on, play with me,” he teased.

“Don’t start something you can’t handle.”

“Oh, I can handle you, darling,” John replied, giving her one of his low rumbling growls that he knew had a shiver racing through her body.

“If I was there, I’d get you to close your eyes.”

“Robbing me of one of my senses, I like it,” John responded, leaning his head back, doing as she wanted. “Then what?” he asked. The heat of the water intensified. The sound of his breathing grew louder.

“I’d kiss you softly, teasing the seam of your lips with the tip of my tongue, entreating you to open to me so I might ravish that wicked mouth of yours.”

John licked his lips, nodding his head, falling into the passion stirring in his blood. He could imagine her mouth on his, tempting, teasing him to give into her. The kiss would be everything she was – soft, sweet, powerful, demanding. She would take everything he had to give, and then take some more. He’d give her anything she wanted without reservation.

“After leaving you thoroughly breathless, I would trace the line of your jaw with the back of my index finger.”

John shuddered at her words, nodding, falling into the fantasy. He imagined the barest touch of her skin against his, sending little eddies of pleasure through his body. His right hand gripped the side of the porcelain tub to keep himself from dropping it below the water to take ahold of his rising desire.

“You’d tilt your head to the side, giving me access to your neck, for which I would reward you with the barest touch of my lips to your rapid pulse. I’d tease you with the tip of my tongue until you were incoherent with desire.”

“Oh, God…” John moaned, biting his bottom lip. Her words created an erotic storm of images in his head. His body tensed; a harsh shuddering exhale filled the silence of the bathroom. It took everything he had not to touch himself.

“Would you like to hazard a guess as to where my hand would be?”

“I know where I’d like it to be,” John replied in a husky voice. He imagined her biting her bottom lip while he listened to her little amused chuckle.

*BANG BANG* “Druitt! Quit with the obscene phone call and get out here!”

“Was that Nikola?”

“Unfortunately,” John growled. The sensual moment was fizzling out.

“Why is he at your house?”

“The vagrant showed up, looking pathetic, needing a place to stay, and for some stupid reason, I let him stay here. I need to have my head examined,” John groaned. Helen laughed at him. He could imagine her nearly doubled over, being thoroughly amused by his situation.

“You did this to yourself.”

“I know…” John reticently agreed. “Before I go, there is a special delivery of flowers arriving for you. Then, there should be a box as well waiting for you in your bedroom that you should open tonight.”

“What did you do?”

“It’s my way of showing you I’m thinking about you,” John answered. “I love you, darling.”

“I miss you.”

The call ended. John set his phone on the tray before getting out, wrapping a towel around his waist – tightly. He put on his century old, black satin dressing gown, cinching the sash at the waist. With a controlled yank, he opened the door, glaring at Nikola on the other side. “What?” he asked with a bite.

Nonplused by John’s state, Nikola cleared his throat and said, “You’re out of wine.”

“For this, you interrupted?” John asked with a groan of annoyance. “Part of me wishes I could still kill right now.”

“You don’t mean that,” Nikola quipped, unsure if it was actually true.

John pointed to the stairs, snarling, “Run.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

Helen smiled at her phone, not envying John for the predicament he was in. It helped to cut through the building desire she had started to feel for him. Getting up, she went inside, and returned to her office. She had turned the corner when she saw Kate, holding a vase of what appeared to be red roses. “That man and his timing,” she whispered.

“These are heavy,” Kate grumbled, carrying them quickly over to the table in front of the window seat. She set it down, looking at the strange roses. “What the…? Whatever they are, they smell amazing.”

Helen stood next to her, stunned at what she saw. “They’re supposed to be Tudor Roses,” she answered, leaning in to smell them. The scent was of a freshly cut red rose.

“Those don’t really exist, do they?” Kate asked as she reached out to touch the nearest bud. It felt pretty real to her.

“No,” Helen answered. “Henry VII had the Tudor Rose commissioned for Elizabeth of York to show the merging of the two warring houses, to cement peace, to symbolize unity.”

“Tall, dark, and deadly has got some game,” Kate commented, standing with her hip cocked and her arms crossed over her chest.

“It goes beyond that,” Helen said softly. “This is seduction. Courtship. What you see in front of you is John’s way of having an intimate conversation.”

“You guys talk on the phone all the time, though,” Kate pointed out.

“When John seduces, he does it in every way possible. Actions. Words. Gifts,” Helen explained, understanding the intent behind the roses. “Unless you know the language, you won’t understand what’s being said.”

“So, what’s he saying with this?” Kate wondered.

“He’s saying I’m the only woman he will ever love,” Helen answered. John had a romantic side that ran deep. Henry VII remained faithful to Elizabeth – even after she died. She was the greatest love of his life. John was telling her the same.

“That man is really working hard…” Kate chuckled, thoroughly impressed with the reformed serial killer.

“You’ve never been the object of desire from a man who lived in the Victorian Era,” Helen remarked with a little grin. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be the sole focus of someone intent on seducing her heart, her mind, her soul, and her body.

TBC.....

Chapter Text

Helen had taken some time away from the Sanctuary. She was giving a series of lectures in Hamburg, Germany on abnormal evolution. Today, she had the day free. Her next lecture wasn’t until the early evening. It also served to put space between her and Will while he was sorting out his continued resentment over her handling of Adam.  Turning over in bed, she reached for her phone on the nightstand. She called John, making herself comfortable while she waited for him to answer. The moment he picked up, she asked warmly, “Where are you?”

“I’m in Venice. You sound tired.”

“I suppose I am, yeah,” Helen answered, sighing lightly. “Lately, I feel like all the sand has run out of the hourglass,” she told him. Before the blood, before his corruption by the elemental, she could confide in him her deepest worries.

“Time to turn it over then. Your longevity doesn’t protect you from fatigue. Even you run down from time to time.”

“I’m all alone in my hotel room in Hamburg. Will you come be with me?” Helen asked hopefully. She wanted to be in his arms, to feel the safety and security of his touch as his skin was pressed against hers.

“Take a picture for me.”

Helen moved to her side with her back to the spacious window and the open curtains. She arranged the comforter around her, making sure that her hair was away from her face. Opening the camera, she snapped a quick picture before she had time to over think it. Helen sent it, feeling a thrill of exhilaration run through her. The line went dead as John ended the call.

“Turn over.”

Helen did so, seeing him standing there clad in his telltale black with half of his hair tied back. His powerful presence was always a shock to her system. She sat up, the covers pooling in her lap. Last night she had changed into a simple dark blue satin camisole and matching pajama pants with the intent of trying to settle down, but her mind had refused.

John stripped off his long woolen coat, draping it on the bottom of the bed. He toed off his shoes and started to unbutton his black shirt. In a fluid movement, he slipped out of it, draping it over his jacket, leaving himself clad in only his black trousers.  John lifted the covers, slipping into bed with her, settling himself on his side. “Come here,” he whispered.

Helen slid close to him, sighing the moment her skin touched his. She breathed him in, the scent of cedar and vanilla filling her head. John wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, surrounding him with his presence. They tangled their legs together, making sure every inch of them was pressed together. “This is exactly what I needed.” Slowly, he started to run his hand up and down her back. The world fell away until all there was for her was John.

“Close your eyes and nod off,” John whispered, kissing the top of her head. “I’ll be here, holding you when you wake up.” He had felt the tension in her body the moment he had her in his arms. Lightly, he continued to press kisses to the top of her head, waiting for her to drift off.

Helen wanted to fight off the first wave of sleep that came to claim her. John kept his breathing slow and steady, the heat of his body was seeping into her, relaxing her, helping her to slip into slumber. Each time her eyes closed; they took longer to open back up. She didn’t want to sleep through their time together, but from the safety of his arms, her body didn’t want to do anything else.

John sighed lightly, closing his eyes, focusing all his senses on Helen, feeling the moment she fell asleep. He took his hand away from her back to blindly reach down for the covers, pulling them up to cocoon them in warmth. Shifting slightly, he curled around her, following her into sleep.

A little while later, when Helen woke, she was warm and content as well as completely rested. It was the deepest sleep she had had in a long while. Shifting away slightly, she looked up into his face, seeing it relaxed in sleep. Her movements had him tightening his hold on her, pulling her back in against him. Helen lifted her hand, cupping his cheek, caressing it softly.

John groaned lightly, waking up from the deep, healing sleep he had fallen into. Blinking a few times, his vision cleared, seeing Helen still in his arms. She wore a happy little grin. “How do you feel?” he asked sluggishly.

“Rested,” Helen answered lightly.

“Mmm,” John mumbled, his eyes closing again for a moment, turning over on his back.

Helen moved with him, lying beside him. Her attention shifted over to the clock on the nightstand, seeing it was nearly two in the afternoon. “Dear lord,” she whispered in shock. “John, we slept the entire morning away and two hours of the afternoon,” she said to him.

“Oops,” John joked with a little chuckle.

“John…” Helen drew out his name, nudging him in the side even though she had hours yet before her next lecture was due to start. Today, she would indulge in laying about in bed. Snugging in against his side, she rested her head on his chest. “I loved the roses you sent,” she whispered.

“I’m glad,” John responded. “I met a humanoid abnormal with a gift for botany. He created them as a way of paying me for my services.”

“Services?” Helen asked, leaning up to look down at him.

“This young man was a patient in one of Bethany’s clinics seeking medical treatment. He needed help getting out of the country and I obliged him. He travels to impoverished regions, helping the locals grow crops and such,” John explained.

“He paid you with roses?” Helen inquired, needing clarification.

John looked at her, smirking. “I haven’t dealt with anything as common as money in years,” he answered. “I trade favors when I can.” There were times when only money would suffice, however, and he hated it.

“And the lingerie you left for me?” Helen questioned, trying to keep the smirk off her face. John’s other gift had been a black satin and lace bra with matching garter belt and stockings. She had felt a flush of heat, imagining herself in the intimate wear.

“That gift has a purpose that hinges on what I want to ask you,” John replied giving her a little devilish wink. “Seeing as you have scolded me on numerous occasions for not knowing my age…”

“I don’t scold, I point it out,” Helen clarified. It continued to amaze her how easily he lost track of his own years of life.

“Anyway, I looked at this year’s calendar, and my birthday is coming up in a month,” John continued. “There is a masquerade happening in Venice around the same time at one of the oldest and most exclusive hotels. It has a regency theme to it. Would you accompany me?”

“Is this really what you want to do?” Helen asked, intrigued by the idea of attending such a lavish event with him again.

“I would love to spend my birthday with you, seducing you, finishing out the night taking you to bed,” John answered, giving her a little wicked grin. He had already started to lay the groundwork for the evening’s festivities.

Sidestepping that comment, Helen stated, “I have nothing to wear.” Her heart raced in anticipation of once again sharing a passionate night with John. The hunger that had been awakened or him was her constant companion, though she did all she could to keep it chained, and from interfering in her work.

“You let me take care of it all,” John promised. The months apart, spending time talking on the phone, had helped him to ease back into the life of a sane man. Their desire for each other had never cooled in the intervening century. It had been on a slow simmer at best.

“Then, yes, I’d love to spend your birthday with you,” Helen agreed. There were aspects of her old life in London that she missed. Going out with John was one of them. She was getting the chance to have that back. She’d be a fool to pass on that.

TBC....

Chapter Text

The night and the mission had turned into an unmitigated disaster. Helen had been wounded in the process of freeing a few rare abnormals from black market traffickers. Will had been with her as her back-up. They had managed to escape with the abnormals, but Helen’s arm had been ripped open by a bullet.  She and Kate were in the infirmary, with the young woman getting the supplies needed to clean the wound.

Kate had just come back with everything she needed when she saw the doc’s phone light up, buzzing with Druitt’s incoming call. “Uh… tall, dark, and deadly is calling.”

“It’ll have to wait,” Helen bit out.

“Have you ignored any of his calls?” Kate wondered.

Helen shook her head, knowing this would be the first time and knowing John would be instantly worried about her. “I will call after my arm is bandaged.”

Kate snatched up the phone, connecting the call. “Doc’s phone,” she said, moving back from the bedside.  She already knew she was going to regret this.

“Ms. Freelander, why are you answering Helen’s phone?”

“Kate, no,” Helen hissed out, gripping her right elbow with her left hand. It was all she could do to keep a sharp yelp of pain contained. She didn’t need John to hear any sounds of pain from her.

“Magnus took a hit tonight while out saving some abnormals,” Kate responded, sending a truly apologetic look to her boss.

“Where are you right now?”

“Don’t you dare,” Helen tried again.

“The Sanctuary,” Kate answered.

“More specifically.”

“The infirmary,” Kate responded, wincing from his sharp.

“Put the phone down,” John stated harshly the moment he arrived.

“Jesus Christ!” Kate yelped, jumping away. She quickly did as he said, setting the phone back on the side table next to the bed Magnus was on.

John went immediately to Helen, taking her arm gingerly in his grasp, seeing the jagged gash. “What happened?” he asked, leveling his gaze with hers.

“It was a miscalculation,” Helen told him, trying to minimize the seriousness of the moment.

“A miscalculation? A few inches over and the bullet could have been through your chest,” John said harshly and with fear in his eyes. He took a moment to reign himself in. “I’m taking you to Bethany and then we’re going home to London.” He had started to move closer with the intent of gathering her in his arms.

“We’re staying here, and you can treat my arm,” Helen said in a soothing voice, pushing away the worst of the pain.  He gave her an agonized expression and then nodded, telling her they would stay.

“Who was supposed to be watching your back?” John asked, reaching out to unzip Helen’s mangled leather jacket. Her silence was telling as he helped to divest her of it. “We have tried it your way with time and patience. It’s not working. Now, we’re going to do it mine.” His voice had taken on a distinctive edge of anger that was a holdover from the creature.

“John, this isn’t…” Helen started to say but he interrupted her.

“You’re hurt. Enough is enough,” John stated. He let her see the fear in his eyes for a moment. The door to the infirmary opened and that fear was gone. John was determined to put a stop to this nonsense.

“Magnus, the Big Guy and I got the new guests settled. Do you need…?” Will stopped talking when he realized who else was in the room. The temperature lowered a few degrees from the icy stare he was being given.

“Ms. Freelander, will you be so kind as to apply pressure to Helen’s wound for me?” John asked, glancing at the young woman.

“Yeah, no problem,” Kate said, going over to Magnus. She took a handful of gauze, pressing it over the open wound. She saw the doc about to speak, to try and calm things down. Leaning in, she whispered, “Maybe let him do this. Will’s not exactly listening to any of us.”

“This could get out of hand,” Helen replied.

“Yeah, I think that’s the point,” Kate remarked.

John knew the menacing nature he had from his towering height. He would use that to his advantage, driving the young doctor back a few steps. “You’ve had long enough to stew in your misplaced anger. It’s time for the cold, harsh truth that you seem incapable of accepting,” John stated in a carefully controlled manner. His tone of voice was even, and his words carried a bite to them. “You’re not mad at us,” he said, motioning between him and Helen. “You’re mad at yourself for being taken in by Adam and manipulated by Hyde.”

“That’s crap,” Will snapped back. “You killed a man who had a psychiatric disorder that you ignored! He needed help!”

“How arrogant you are to blame us for missing a diagnosis of a condition that we had no knowledge of back in the 1880’s,” John replied frigidly. “Where do you get off blaming us for that? You want to be angry at someone, be angry at the people of Praxis. They had decades to treat Adam. They didn’t. We showed him mercy where you would have prolonged his suffering. The one thing you can’t seem to make peace with is that Adam could not be saved.”

“Death is the only option for you people, is that it?” Will snarled, using the anger he felt to give him a false sense of courage against Druitt. Self-preservation had him staying out of arms reach.

“You are too young to understand this, but I’m going to try to explain it as simply as possible. Death and mercy are sometimes the same thing.” John took one careful step forward, forcing Will to take a step back. “It’s time you stop acting like a petulant child and accept the fact that you can’t save everyone. You also have to accept that Adam stopped being a victim a long time ago.”

“Why, because you’re the only killer that gets to have a second chance?” Will asked, his words dripping with resentment.

“My second chance was easier to obtain, and I had an energy elemental trapped inside me that made me the vicious monster you can’t stop seeing me as,” John replied. Then, motioning to Helen, he continued, “Because of your resentment, Helen could have lost her life, which is more precious to me than anything. You need to sort yourself out and come to terms with Adam’s end. If you don’t, the next person that gets hurt because of your negligence could wind up dying. Should that happen, you will answer to me. Do you understand?” John asked, seeing Will’s eyes flick to Helen’s with the first hint of true terror in them. Shifting, he put himself between them until Will’s gaze was back on him. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” Will replied quietly.

“Now, get out,” John stated, pointing to the door.

A tense silence settled in the room. Kate felt that the storm had not passed with Will’s departure. They were only in the eye of it.

John cleared his throat. “Ms. Freelander, would you mind leaving us alone. I’ll tend to Helen’s arm myself.” He didn’t turn to look at the young woman or Helen. John was struggling to keep his fear under control.

Helen shared a look with Kate, nodding. She was going to get this over with, knowing she wasn’t in any danger from John. “It’s okay. You can go.”

“Shut the door on your way out,” John ordered, tracking every step Kate took. He waited for the soft click of the door closing.

“John…” Helen started to speak but he held up his hand.

“Do not…” John turned to her. “I could’ve lost you tonight,” he said, his voice trembling. He went to sit on the edge of the bed, letting her see the true depth of torment in his eyes. “If I lose you, who will I have? Tesla? You best off me now if I have to spend the rest of my life with only Nikola as company.”

“I didn’t need you to defend me or our choices to Will,” Helen stated, choosing not to respond to his last comment.

John ran his hand through his hair, combing it back out of his face. “I didn’t need you to defend me to him after we returned from Praxis the first time. Yet, you did. You told me you tore into him pretty thoroughly. Why am I not allowed to repay you in kind? And do not say it’s because you are a woman in charge.” John asked.

“It’s partly that,” Helen replied honestly. “The other part is I’ve always had to defend myself.” Being a woman in the Victorian era had not been easy – even though she was a woman of wealth and status. She had no agency other than what she took for herself. Even at Oxford, she had to rail against the rules simply to attend lectures. Helen had to constantly fight, constantly defend her right to do anything. Then, she got to a point in her life where she stopped defending her choices by doing as she pleased and as her own conscience dictated.

John leaned over, touching his forehead to her left thigh. “I know your independence is important to you and I’ve had to fight against my own instincts to haunt your every step, to keep my eyes on you every hour of the day. If I lose you, I have nothing.”

“After all this time, if you haven’t lost me by now…” Helen said softly, drawing his attention back to her and away from his own tormented feelings.

“The thing I am most afraid of is smothering you,” John admitted softly.

“If you started, you and I would have a proper row,” Helen stated. She reached out to him, cupping his face with her left hand.

“I know,” John whispered, nodding, knowing she would have no problem in putting him in his place. “I meant what I said. Enough was enough. If I had to be the one to give him a verbal slap in the face, so be it.”

“Except, that wasn’t a slap. It was a punch,” Helen replied. That earned her a ghost of a smile from him. It dulled the fear still in his eyes. “Will you tend to my arm now, it’s starting to hurt,” she said softly, adding a little grimace.

“Wouldn’t you prefer if I took you to Bethany and let her treat you?” John asked. His medical skills were rusty in the strongest sense of the word. “Then, I could take you to London, where I would gladly wait on you hand and foot,” he offered, hoping it was tempting enough for her not to resist.

“John, you spent a month with her, I’m certain you picked up a thing or two,” Helen said and then groaned a little. It was small of her, and manipulative – she knew. John hated to see her in pain and would always want to do anything to make it better.  

“Very well,” John whispered, standing, shedding his coat. Everything he needed was already on a rolling table. He picked up the pair of gloves, putting them on before touching her wound. “It looks like it’s already started to heal,” he said in a comforting manner. “I’ll have to cut the sleeve off before I start.” Focusing on the task in front of him, he picked up the scissors, taking them to the ruined cotton.

“All you have to do is clean it out and bandage it, my body will take care of the rest,” Helen replied, watching him carefully cutting her shirt. He was meticulous – as always.

John nodded, turning to reach for the hydrogen peroxide and saline solution. He poured some into the little plastic basin and then filled it with gauze. His hand was trembling as he picked up the soaked gauze.

Helen watched him diligently clean her wound. She hissed here and there in discomfort. The mixture bubbled up pink, running down her arm. “See, you learned more than you realized,” she whispered. He didn’t say anything as he cleaned it away, covering the wound with dry gauze. Then, he wrapped the thicker bandage around it, keeping it covered and dry. He tore off two pieces of tape, securing the end in place.

“All tended to,” John replied lightly with the worst of his dear having faded. He stripped off the gloves, putting them in the little basin with the bloody gauze.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Helen asked as he started to move away.

“Am I?” John responded, at a loss for what he could have missed.

Helen motioned to her arm, saying, “Aren’t you going to kiss it and make it better?”

John closed his eyes, smiling lightly, and sighing in shocked disbelief. She always had the power to catch him off guard. Moving back to the side of the bed, John leaned over, pressing his lips lightly to the fresh bandage. He pulled back, giving her a shy, boyish grin and then asked, “Better?”

“Much,” Helen answered lightly.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” John asked. “You have to rest that arm until it’s healed.” The smile he wore was one of pure satisfaction.

“No, John…” Helen warned him.

“Yes, Helen,” John responded slyly.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Helen frowned.

“I’ve waited for this for one hundred years. If I had to endure wearing a sling for two miserable days, you can do the same,” John replied. He would hold his ground until she relented.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day found Helen moving about her lab with only one hand. John had argued with her well into the morning hours until she gave in. Her right arm rested in the sling, letting the torn flesh from the bullet wound mend without being taxed from movement. After winning, John had to excuse himself, leaving her, trusting that she would keep her arm immobilized. So far, she had held true to her word.

Will watched Magnus from across the room. After the cold confrontation with Druitt last night, he had to admit to himself that he was being unfair. He had tried calling Abby to vent to her, but her phone was off. She would only tell him he got the verbal beat down he was asking for. Then, before he could talk himself into turning around, he strode across the room. “Uhh… Magnus are you busy?”

“I’m trying to remember how to manage with only one good hand at the moment,” Helen said in jest, turning around. Will’s eyes took in the sight of her in a sling. “Don’t be too alarmed over this. It’s John’s little payback. After all, I made him wear one in 1908.” She smiled to herself, recalling the way he grimaced. It wasn’t unlike her reaction last night.

“I’m sorry about the way I’ve been acting lately,” Will said, looking down at the tips of his shoes. “You and Druitt have a connection and… you guys had a kid, I mean… of course you’d save him,” he trailed off, feeling foolish now.

Helen closed the distance between them. Nodding her head, she said, “It’s not simply our connection or Ashley that made me choose John. Part of me felt responsible for his actions. It was my experiment that did this, that took him away from me. He became vulnerable to that creature and then was blamed for what it had him do. He accepts responsibility for everything he’s done. I needed to make that right for us both.” She closed her eyes, reaching for the chain that she never took off. She held the vampire’s tear in the palm of her hand, closing her fingers around it.

“Love makes you do crazy things,” Will muttered.

Helen nodded in agreement. “I knew you had the hope that I would do something to help Adam,” she said softly.

“We won’t know,” Will muttered.

“A merciful death was the only way out for him and the only way to stop Hyde’s madness,” Helen responded. “You offered him friendship, which was something he’d not had in a long time.”

“I’m still trying to come to terms with it all,” Will confessed, finally looking at Magnus.

“I understand,” Helen replied. “Whether physically or verbally, John punches hard,” she added with a little apologetic shrug.

“And he’s still scary,” Will responded with a little shudder.

“It’s his height,” Helen replied.

“Yeah…” Will agreed.

“We’re going to be okay,” Helen said. “Work through whatever you need to.”

Will had started to turn and leave, but curiosity got the better of him. “Why do you choose Druitt time and again?”

Helen sighed, taking a moment before she answered. “The simple answer is its attraction, reaction, desire, need, hunger, aggravation, starvation, contentment. Yet, at the same time, it’s not simple for us,” she tried to explain. Then, she asked him, “Have you ever met someone who made you better, made you know yourself in a way you never expected? Have you had someone who you could talk to without saying a word? John can aggravate me one moment and then make smile the next.”

“You know that’s not healthy, right?” Will remarked.

“For you, perhaps. Love is not a one size fits all type of emotion. It’s not simply all the good things. Love endures because of conflict and resolution. In all my years of life, I’ve never met anyone who can fire my soul the way John can.” Helen shook her head, knowing that her answers fell short of what she truly felt for John. For this, words truly fell short. “Eventually, you’ll understand that love is maddening and wonderful and it will drive you crazy.”

TBC....

Chapter Text

Helen and John had only had a few scattered conversations here and there. Each day brought her closer to his birthday and she was eager for it. There had been a whirlwind of activity in the Sanctuary, keeping Helen busy, just as she liked it. Before she knew it, John’s birthday arrived. There was an eager anticipation racing through her at the prospect of seeing him, of seeing what he had planned for the evening while they were in Venice. John had said the theme was the Regency Era. Memories from their time hunting for Worth entered her mind. The ball they attended played out in vivid detail. It had been quite some time since Helen had last worn any sort of gown. The prospect thrilled her, if she was being honest.

Helen sat in her office, tending to a few last-minute details. She had already done her hair in a simple bun, letting little whisps of hair fall free around her face, and fixed her bangs. Her make-up was the usual dusting of black eyeshadow and eye liner, while her lips were tinted with a pale red lip gloss. Then, Helen dressed as she normally would have for a normal day, except for what she wore underneath. She had put on the lingerie John had sent her. At first, she wasn’t going to wear them, but as she looked at them, she couldn’t deny how much she wanted to try them on.

Helen reached down, running her hand down her left calf, enjoying the feel of the shear black stocking against her skin. One thing she could say about John is he knew what she would look good in and what would be comfortable for her. Her phone buzzed seconds later. Snatching it up, she answered, “Where are you?”

“Answer the door.”

The line went dead and then three strong knocks sounded in the silence. Helen set the phone back on her desk, crossing the expanse of her office, opening the door to the right of the right of the fireplace. The sight that greeted her eyes stole her breath away. He stood before her a vestige of his youth – if he’d been born in the early eighteen hundreds.  John wore knee high black boots with black breeches tucked into the top, hugging his long legs. The waistband of his pants was hidden by the hem of his double-breasted vest of black and adorned with intricate silver vine work that matched the frock coat gracing his strong shoulders. Slowly she lifted her gaze seeing the hint of a satin shirt the color of dark smoke playing against the paleness of his skin. Finally, her eyes rested on his face, seeing his hair down, framing his face. The dark strands made his eyes seem impossibly blue. She said nothing as she continued to hold his gaze.

John took one small step forward, closing the distance between him and Helen. There was barely an inch of space between them as she tilted her head back slightly, maintaining his intense stare. “Am I pleasing to the eye?” he asked in a low voice, tinged with a hint of sensual promise.  John wanted to place his hands on her hips, to pull her close, and ravish her tempting lips.

“I think you’ll do,” Helen responded in a cheeky manner. It sparked a bit of rueful delight in his eyes. She lifted her right hand, cupping his left cheek. He started to angle his head with the intent of kissing her, but at the last second stopped. Respectfully, he took a step back. Her hand fell from his face as she watched him bring himself under control. “You can kiss me,” she said softly.

“There will be plenty of that tonight, I assure you,” John promised. He had the evening planned already and he didn’t want to skip ahead.

“I still have nothing to wear,” Helen reminded him. She would give him control tonight, knowing it was important to him.

“Everything you need is in your bedroom,” John answered, taking a second to let his eyes rove over her in return. He could tell she was wearing a few of his gifts. “Being the gentleman that I am, I will wait for you in the foyer.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

John had taken a moment to put on his mask for the night. It was black lace dusted with light pearlescent paint.  He had his left hand pressed against the small of his back while he watched the three mortals who were standing around with their mouths practically agape. “Why are you three gawking at me?” he asked.

“Well, I’m nosey, and I don’t have anything better to do,” Kate stated unabashedly.

“Nothing better? In an organization this size?” John questioned suspiciously.

“Not a thing,” Kate replied. “The world is at peace today. Go figure….”

“You and the doc going on a date, or something?” Henry asked, looking up from his tablet. He was in the middle of working on a systems upgrade for the servers.

“Or something,” John replied with a little smirk, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his right ear. “We’re attending a masquerade party in Venice,” he said, taking pity on the trio, satisfying their rabid curiosity. He conveniently left out that today was his birthday.

“This seems like an awful lot of effort for a date,” Will commented, trying not to sound as if he were irritated.

John kept silent, offering the young man a neutral expression. Since the night he’d taken matters into his own hands, the situation between Helen and Dr. Zimmerman had gotten better. He took a testing step towards the young man. He didn’t back up. “In time you will learn that the right woman is worth any amount of effort, and you’ll think nothing about it,” he whispered.

“Are you intimidating my people?”

John turned his attention to the top of the stairs and immediately his demeanor changed. “Not at all. It’s a friendly discourse,” he answered, moving away without a second glance to the trio. He waited at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at her wearing the midnight blue dress adorned with the same intricate silver vine work to match the silver satin of the gloves that went up to her forearms. Everything else fell from the forefront of his mind as he marveled at the way Helen glided down the stairs towards him. When she was close enough, he held out his hand to her.

Helen rested her fingers against his palm, pausing on the second to last step. She breathed in slowly, watching as he leaned in, kissing her knuckles chastely. “I have not dressed like this in over a century,” she whispered as John drew her the rest of the way down the stairs. “I forgot how good it could feel to wear a gown, to get dressed up and attend a party.” Helen moved in close, looking up into his eyes, smiling from ear to ear. It felt like the early days of their romance.

“You rob me of my senses and my ability to articulate how dazzling you are,” John praised, smiling as broadly as she was.

“And you, sir, are as handsome as the day I met you,” Helen replied, eager for their evening to begin. “Will you help me with my mask?” she asked, giving him a coquettish smile, holding up the black lace.

“Of course,” John replied, taking it, moving to stand behind her. She settled it on her face, holding it until he tied it in place. Lightly, he drew the tips of his fingers down the back of her neck.

“Thank you, Mr. Druitt,” Helen said softly, barely keeping a sigh of desire contained. His light touch was already adding to the simmering intensity of the moment.

“You are most welcome, Dr. Magnus,” John replied sweetly, holding her gaze, feeling happier than he’d been in over a hundred years. He gently took her hand, his thumb resting over her right ring and pinkie fingers. She curled her index finger around his, giving him a little squeeze. It was her way of saying she was ready to go. Without a word, John used his powers, spiriting them away from the Sanctuary.

“Okay, bye then,” Kate muttered, scoffing at their departure. She nudged Henry in the shoulder, motioning with her head that they should head off.

Will was the only one to remain, staring at the space Magnus and Druitt had occupied. While they had been distracted by each other, he had taken the opportunity to snap a few pictures of them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

John arrived on a small balcony off the main ballroom. Helen moved to his side, linking her arm with his, breathing out carefully. He leaned over, whispering, “Are you nervous, darling?”  John made sure his voice was low and sensual, knowing the tone would make her shiver.

Helen bit her bottom lip, feeling the way her stomach fluttered in response to him. “No, but I am worried we are crashing a party,” she answered, looking up at him.

“We’re not, I promise,” John assured her. “I was invited and free to bring a date. Did you think I’d bring Nikola over you?” he teased.

“He wouldn’t look half as good in this dress as I do,” Helen stated in a haughty manner.

“Well…” John played. The look of utter indignation had him laughing. “You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever seen,” he said softly and with love in his voice. John took a moment to touch his brow against the side of her head, taking a slow, deep breath. He needed to be surrounded by her.

“Are we going to stand out here all night?” Helen asked softly, gaining his gaze once more. The sexual tension grew in intensity the longer they stared at each other. “We could always skip to the end,” she suggested in a quick gasp.

“Oh no, I’m going to take my time and draw this night out,” John promised, licking his bottom lip before biting it suggestively. With that lingering between them, he guided her towards the balcony door acting as if they had only stepped out to take the evening air.

Helen moved in closer to John’s side, hugging his upper left arm. Her mind started to wander, imagining what John had planned for this evening. She had lost some of the youthful enjoyment of being surprised, of having the night unfold while she was having fun. Tonight, she promised, she would enjoy all the evening had to offer.

The doors opened, allowing John and Helen inside the grand ballroom. To set the stage, the room was lit by thousands of candles. It was as if they had stepped back in time. Music filled the room, weaving in through the gaps of the conversations happening all over the room.  Guests flitted about, standing in small huddles, laughing and drinking. All of them were in bright colors that made the interior feel like spring was right around the corner. He and Helen were the only ones dressed in darker tones owing to their Victorian ways. John guided them towards the fringes of the room, walking around, letting everyone stare at them, wondering who they could be.

“We’re being observed,” Helen said, leaning close, making it seem as if she were whispering something amusing. It didn’t escape her notice that they had garnered attention from the moment they walked in.

“I noticed,” John replied, wearing a little mischievous smirk. “They’re wondering who we are, what we are, and how we came to be here tonight. Could we be multi-millionaires? Are we old money? Do we own the world? Did we bribe our way in here?”

“And who are we tonight?” Helen asked when John brought them to a halt near a corner, making it seem as if they were sharing some wicked little secret with each other.  

“You are who you have always been. Dr. Helen Magnus,” John answered. He lifted his gaze, surveying the room, searching the faces for any that were familiar.

“What about you?” Helen inquired, drawing his attention back to her. His eyes had a playful glint in them that she knew could turn wickedly sensual if the mood struck him.

“I am Montague John Druitt, the man lucky enough to be on your arm,” John answered with a little purr to his voice. The little rumble drew a soft moan from her.

“Still a menace,” Helen teased. She gave his arm an affectionate squeeze to soften the blow of her playful rebuke.

“Only to you,” John replied softly. “Tonight, let’s get out of our heads. Let’s have fun, and not worry about what’s going to happen later,” he bargained. He would whisk her away to the room he had reserved soon enough. His body craved her with a fierce hunger that would no longer be denied after tonight.

“We used to enjoy evenings like this, didn’t we?” Helen asked with a little giggle.

“Do you remember that séance we attended?” John asked, resuming their little circuit of the room.

“God, yes. Nigel was such a scoundrel that night!” Helen quietly exclaimed, hiding her face against John’s arm to muffle her laughter. That night, she and John had attended a private party where a world-renowned psychic was to conduct a séance. All through the performance, John had looked rather pleased with himself while Nigel moved objects around and banged the table at odd intervals. At one point, she had to kick John to keep him from laughing. “Don’t think I don’t know that it was your idea for Nigel to do all that,” she added.

“James didn’t want to go and be the outspoken skeptic. Nikola wouldn’t be caught dead at a séance. Nigel was the only other one who was up for a bit of fun,” John explained, rather pleased with himself for how the evening had turned out. “I know you were enjoying the spectacle,” he remarked, having seen the way she had tried to keep the amusement from her eyes that night.

Helen sighed, nodding, giving into him on that point. She had enjoyed the evening with Nigel milling about, pretending to be various ghosts summoned from the other side. They lapsed into silence, continuing to skirt the edges of the room. Helen leaned her cheek against his arm, falling back into the old familiarity. She and John had had an active social life. It had been an aspect of her life she had missed when his affliction tore them apart.

John came to a stop, seeing the man he’d been searching the room for. The host for the evening and the one responsible for John’s invitation. “What do you know about a man named Nasim Akhtar?” he asked softly.

Helen pulled John to a stop, letting him see the shock in her eyes. “He’s one of the biggest benefactors to the abnormal world. How do you know him?” she questioned, careful to keep her demeanor relaxed.

“I came to make his acquaintance though Bethany,” John explained lightly, bringing Helen back in close against his side to continue their tour of the massive ballroom. “She, apparently, has been lifelong friends with Nasim’s grandmother. When Nasim was kidnapped, she wanted him returned quickly, and thus got Bethany involved, who in turn came to me knowing I might be useful.”

“Which is how you secured an invitation to this lavish affair,” Helen supplied, shaking her head.

“He wanted to pay me,” John said in a conspiratorial tone. “Can you imagine?” he joked.

“You prefer favors,” Helen stated knowingly.

“Tonight was fortuitous, and I thought you’d might like to meet him, if you haven’t already,” John offered, searching the crowd for the host.

“Sad to say, I haven’t had the chance,” Helen lamented.

“Then, let us pay our respects,” John stated, lightly laughing at the annoyed glance she gave him. All too soon, he knew it faded to one of enjoyment. John finally spotted the man of the hour, seeing him surrounded by a gaggle of ladies. Nasim was tall, blessed with handsome eastern features giving him a regal bearing. He was holding a mask done in gold and silver, playing against his dark featured, accented with white feathers. The entourage were all swooning over him in one way or another. John shook his head, chuckling. It reminded him of the old days when many women of society were on the hunt for a rich husband.

Helen saw the ghost of remembrance cross John’s face. “What?” she asked, squeezing the crook of his elbow.

“I’m recalling all the young women who were hunting for husbands during the social affairs we used to attend,” John answered with a little grin.

“Yes, more than a few had their eyes on you, like I wasn’t even on your arm,” Helen replied with a touch of old resentment.

“Clearly, they made zero impression on me,” John responded. “I was already with the woman I wanted to be with for eternity,” he continued, whispering the last little bit in her ear.

“That was why I was never angry,” Helen informed him, giving his arm another little squeeze. When she was with John, no one could compare to having his attention on her. Even after over a century, his touch still thrilled her.

Nasim turned his attention to the pair coming his way. From the height of the gentleman, he knew it could be only one man. “Excuse me,” he said politely, and without looking at the woman who had been flirting shamelessly with him. “I was wondering if you were going to make it, John,” he called out in a welcoming manner.

“A gentleman always arrives when his lady is ready,” John replied, his attention on Helen. “Allow me to introduce you to Dr. Helen Magnus.”

Helen held out his right hand for a handshake. “Mr. Akhtar, it’s a pleasure,” she said with a gentle smile that she used for meeting new people.

“Dr. Magnus, I’ve heard tales of you,” Nasim replied, taking her hand, giving her a professional shake. It didn’t escape his notice that John watched him carefully. “Nana Bethany talks about you as if you were larger than life,” he continued speaking, withdrawing his hand.

“Nana Bethany?” Helen chucked. “I’ve not heard her referred to like that before,” she replied, shaking her head, smiling warmly.

“I’ll never be able to think of her any other way. She and my grandmother go way back, and she is a fine judge of character,” Nasim informed them both. “It’s why I trusted this man when he showed up,” he said turning the topic to his rescue.

“Did you hear that?” John joked.

“You have character? Who knew?” Helen replied in jest, flashing him a wicked little smirk.

“Darling,” John said, drawing out the endearment. Helen laughed, giving him a little wink to show she was playing.

“How long have you two been together?” Nasim inquired, seeing the ease between them that covered the tension.

“Only a hundred years into eternity,” John replied easily with a secretive smile.

“I like that,” Nasim remarked with an appreciative nod. Then, from across the room, one of his guests caught his eye, waving him over. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to play dutiful host.” He gave them both a nod, then moved off into the crowd.

As the night wore on, mirth and merriment filled the ballroom. Helen had gotten swept up in a conversation with a few women in the medical field. John had removed himself from her side, choosing to watch her from across the room.  Every once in a while, she would hear snippets of his laughter and it made her shiver in anticipation. Helen managed to lose herself in the conversation again, delighting in the intellectual discourse.

John kept his eyes on Helen, listening for her voice and her laughter.  When the gentlemen he had been engaged in conversation with wandered away, he started to stalk around the room. He could see she was aware that he was drawing closer. A rueful smile curved his lips when he heard the tone the conversation between the ladies had taken.

“You’ve garnered some attention, Dr. Magnus.”

“Yes, from the most dangerous predator out there. My lover.”

“He’s attractive.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll develop an ego.”

John came to stand behind Helen, leaning close to her left ear, whispering, “My ego won’t swell from hearing I’m attractive.” Lightly, he placed his left hand on her left side, sliding it over the satin of her dress to cup her hip as he shifted over to stand on her right side.

 “No, but something else might,” Helen remarked impishly.

“Do tell,” John joked, casting a wolfish grin to the small circle Helen had found herself in.

Helen turned her head, angling it back slightly to look up into his eyes – playful and shining with barely concealed desire. She placed her right hand over his left. While they held one another’s gaze, he turned his hand over, their palms pressing together, fingers grasping lightly. “You’ve caught me, now what will you do with me?” she asked.

“I’ll not have you home before midnight, not before I’ve had my way with you,” John replied, giving her a sly smile, echoing words she had said to him. Then, turning his attention to the little group she had formed, he said, “Ladies, I’m going to steal her away.” Without waiting for their consent, he guided Helen towards the doors.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Helen felt the tension rise between her and John as he guided them towards the elevators that would take them up to the room he’d reserved for them tonight. He had his hand resting against the small of her back, his fingers digging in lightly. Helen gasped lightly, biting her bottom lip. The desire that had been a low simmer for months flared to life.

John pressed the button, calling for the lift. He moved to stand behind Helen, catching her gaze in the polished brass of the doors. “Are you excited?” he asked in a low rumbling purr near her ear. She swallowed hard, holding his focus. John could see her cheeks flushed with color under the lace of her mask, and he ached to press his lips there to feel the heat of her blush.

“You are a bad man, John Druitt,” Helen said with a lust filled chuckle, leaning back against him. The look he gave her was one of aroused amusement. He wasn’t the only one who could tease effectively. She inhaled a shaky breath when his palm resting against her stomach, keeping her back pressed against his chest.

“I plan to leave you breathless and writhing in ecstasy,” John promised, nipping the outside of her right ear. Teasingly, he slid his hand down, resting it under her navel, feeling a hint of her muscles trembling in eager anticipation. A little bell dinged, and the doors parted, allowing them into the car.

Helen felt her heart racing when she stepped into the lift. John selected the top floor – of course. He moved in close to her, using his presence to press her up against the mirrored wall. Her lips parted, her breathing coming harder. She unabashedly looked at his lips, eager to have them on her.

John placed his left hand on her right hip, sliding it down over the satin of her dress. He stopped just above her knee, curling his fingers into the fabric drawing it up. Teasingly, he cocked his head to the side and asked, “Are you afraid of getting caught?” He shifted his hand to the inside of her thigh, sliding it up.

“Should I be?” Helen asked breathlessly. John’s nimble fingers dipped under the edge of her underwear, giving her a little teasing stroke. She brought her hands up to his chest, digging her fingers into his jacket, pulling him closer. Her brow touched his chin, feeling the wicked smile on his lips. “John…” she moaned his name, knowing the effect it would have on him.

John bit his bottom lip, moaning in response. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his finger finding her intimate entrance, thrusting inside. Her hips moved and her inner muscles tightened on him. She tugged on his coat, panting slightly. John gave her another little thrust, forcing her thighs to clench on his hand. A second later, the elevator car came to a halt, the doors opening on a floor that wasn’t the one he selected. Acting quickly John turned them, removing his hand, seeing the evidence of her arousal on his finger.  While he had her attention, he stuck it in his mouth, closing his lips around it. Moments later, the doors closed, and they were alone.

Helen leaned back against the wall, her attention on him, watching the way he slowly drew his finger out of his mouth. She couldn’t help but swallow hard at the pure look of male satisfaction in his eyes. John angled his head, taking her lips passionately. She gasped, opening her mouth for him, tasting herself on his tongue. It made her moan again, draping her arms over his shoulders.

John leaned into her, keeping her pinned between his body and the wall. He set his hands on her shoulders, sliding them down her arms until he could take her hands in his. As he broke the kiss, he lifted her hands above her head, pinning them to the wall. “You are a wicked delight, woman,” he whispered sensually.

Helen shifted against him, bringing her knee up, rubbing against the firm evidence of his desire for her. It earned her a dark, rumbling growl from him. She was going to let him have his way with her. It was his birthday, after all. Though, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take a little bit here and there to remind him that she also desired to play. “You drive me out of my senses,” she replied with a little purr.

“Then we both shall be out of minds,” John replied, pressing a kiss to her brow.

*~*~*~*~*

Helen stood in the suite, taking in the romantic setting. John stood behind her, careful to keep a little space between them. He had taken great care to set the scene with candlelight and roses. Champagne waited in an ice bucket with a bowl of strawberries on a table next to two crystal flutes. “And here I thought this was your birthday,” she commented slyly, glancing at him over her shoulder. She took a moment to slip off her shoes, nudging them under the table.

John closed the small distance between them, his hands resting lightly on her hips. “Giving you pleasure is what I want to do tonight. Shouldn’t I get to celebrate in whatever way I want?” he asked darkly, dropping a little heated kiss to the crook of her neck. She sighed, leaning back against him.

Helen turned to John, slipping her hands under his coat, pushing it off his shoulders. He took it off, draping it over the armrest of the nearest sitting chair. “You were right. Nothing teases the imagination quite like the old fashions,” she whispered seductively, reaching up to pull free the tie looped around his collar. Taking the long piece of black silk from his neck, watching as it fluttered to the floor. While he stayed still, she opened the button at the hollow of his throat, seeing the way he swallowed hard. His passions were rising. Helen dropped her hands down, freeing each button slowly while under his heated stare.

John stared at her, enjoying the way she worked free the silver buttons, easing the stiff hold the vest had on him. He leaned in close, breathing in the scent of her, letting it fill his head and muddy his mind. She stripped the vest from his body, casting it to the floor. He laughed at her momentary flash of impatience. Angling his head, he captured her lips, kissing her deeply. Her hands rested on his chest, fingers digging in as she moaned into his mouth.

Helen dropped her hands down to the band of John’s pants with the intention of yanking free his shirt, needing to take it off him. His hands wrapped around her wrists, holding her arms out. He broke the kiss, growling for her, taking a step back towards the bed. “I would like to get you out of these clothes,” she said wickedly.

“Patience is its own reward,” John taunted.

“You are going to kill me with patience,” Helen replied with a little frown.

“I’ll allow you to take one more thing off of me,” John said, letting her hands go. “Choose wisely,” he added.

Helen made a grand show of thinking about it, then she made her choice. Her fingers curled into the hem of his shirt, tugging it from the band of his pants. She could see the choice surprised him. “I want you out of these clothes,” Helen stated again.

“Not what I would’ve gone with,” John replied, chuckling.

“I like you in the mask,” Helen whispered sensually, wagging her brows suggestively.

John pulled off the shirt, leaving his torso bare for her ravenous gaze. Helen’s hand touched his left side where he’d once taken a bullet for her and James. He loved having her attention on him, looking at him as if it were the first time he was getting naked for her. She took her time touching him, caressing his skin, letting him see the pleasure she derived from it. He brought his hand up, cupping her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks lightly. “My turn,” John whispered. He reached behind her, taking hold of the small tab of the zipper for her dress. Pulling it down, he watched the shoulders of the dress loosen, giving him the first glimpse of the strap of her bra.

Helen shuddered when John’s fingers brushed her back, parting the dress. His hands came up to her shoulders, sliding the garment down her arms. He held her gaze, the fires of desire leaping between them. The dress dropped to the floor without much notice by Helen. His eyes ran up and down her body, taking in every little detail in the candlelight. She bit her bottom lip when he ran the back of his fingers down her abdomen, brushing his knuckles along the band of the black lace garter belt. Then his hand slipped further down, and she moaned.

John loved the flush that had come to her cheeks. “Will you surrender yourself to me tonight?” he asked sensually. Withdrawing his hand, he waited for her to answer.

“It seems I already have,” Helen responded, motioning to her current state of undress.

John drew the back of his right index finger down her stomach lightly. “Let me have full command of your body,” he bargained. “I’ll take the best care of it.” He could see the decision in her eyes. She’d already made up her mind.

Helen reached up, pulling the ties free of her mask. She dropped it on the table before moving away, heading for the bed. Stretching out across the gold satin comforter, Helen looked at John, waiting for him. There was a fluttering inside her, watching him stride towards her with a large, ripe strawberry in his grasp.

John braced his right knee on the bed between her thighs, leaning over Helen, holding the tip of the berry to her lips. “Bite,” he said sensually. Her lips parted, accepting the rounded tip into her mouth. She took a little bite all while her eyes remained on his, the fire of desire leaping between them. Lightly, he traced the fruit down the center of her chest, leaving a little trail of juice that he quickly cleaned away with his tongue.

Helen pressed her head back into the bed, feeling tendrils of pleasure pulse between her thighs. The tip of his tongue licked and teased her skin the further down he moved. He stopped above her navel. She felt the weight of his gaze. Lifting her head, she looked at him, waiting for more. With a wicked grin on his sensuous lips, he dipped his head down nipping and kissing her skin. Helen draped her arms above her head, her fingers digging into the covers. She was breathing harder and harder as her ecstasy rose higher and higher.

John took a bite, moaning in appreciation of the taste of Helen the fruit carried on its flesh that mixed with the tartness it already had. While she continued to watch him, he set the freshly bitten into fruit against her body, a little above her left hip. He gave her a wolfish grin before dipping his head down to kiss that juice covered patch. John sucked, making sure to leave his mark on her. Pulling back, he confessed, “This is one of my favorite spots on your body.”

“What’s another?” Helen inquired in a near breathless gasp, watching him finish eating the piece of fruit. John started to reach for the clip of the garter belt to remove her stockings. She stopped him, giving him a wicked smile. “Leave them on,” she said. John gave her a skeptical look. Helen hooked her thumbs in the band of her underwear, pulling it down.

“Naughty,” John growled appreciatively.

“It is your birthday. You should have a special treat,” Helen replied lifting her hips a little.

John got off the bed, eagerness riding him. He curled his fingers in the band of her underwear, sliding them down her legs. Once he had them off her, he tossed it over his shoulder with a flourish. His eyes never left hers, showing her the depth of his hunger for her. He licked his lips as if he were a starving man seeing his next meal.

Helen knew the power of that look. John gripped her behind the knees, pulling her to the edge of the bed, wringing a gasp from her. He knelt down, draping her right knee over his shoulder. She pressed her head back, closing her eyes. John kissed the inside of her thigh moments before he gave her a little nip. When that first teasing lick came, Helen’s hips bucked, and she moaned. His arm came across her hips, holding her down. “John…” she moaned his name, digging her heel into his back.

John knew he would become drunk on the taste of her mingling with the tart strawberry still lingering on his palate. He drew his tongue up, the tip finding that little bundle of her nerves, slowly ramping her pleasure back up. Her hips followed the movement of his tongue and he had to apply a bit more strength to keep her still. He took his time tasting her.

The pulses of pleasure that raced through Helen had her head turning from side to side. John’s talented tongue worked her thoroughly.  She felt him tease her entrance, the tip dipping inside, stoking the fires of her desire.  Her body was burning with need that only he could satisfy. The torment of his tongue was nearly enough to make her come undone in his arms. She pushed her head back into the bed, her back arching with need. Her moans filled the room, echoing off the walls.

John knew his hunger for her would be fierce. He sated his thirst for her body, every taste bud of his tongue branded with Helen’s flavor. The passion raced through his blood, hardening him, demanding that he be buried inside her. Taking her knee from over his shoulder, he had her wrap it around his waist. He kissed, nipped, and licked his way back up her body until he reached her lips. John infused her with all the longing that had been building up these past months that they’d been apart.

Helen wrapped her arms around him, losing herself in the moment. She rolled them, putting him under her, changing the angle of the kiss. Her hips moved, riding against the firmness of him. He let her ravish him as their mutual desire raged between them. He let her reach down to frantically yank the buttons of his breeches, freeing him from the confining fabric. She was about to reach for him when her wrapped his fingers around her wrists, stopping her. Helen was left to gaze deeply into John’s eyes, seeing the vivid blue of them. The love she always carried for him filled her heart, making it beat once again for him alone.

John brought Helen’s hands up, having her rest them on his shoulders. He skimmed the back of his fingers down her sides, making her shudder and moan in frustration. A little wicked chuckle escaped him. “Still so impatient,” he scolded in a velvety voice, but he had decided to give her what she wanted. It was what he wanted as well, after months of denying himself the sweet pleasure of her body. Gripping the back of her thighs, John stood up to carry her across the room.

Helen groaned, biting her bottom lip when her back touched the wall. She didn’t get the chance to catch her breath as he thrust up, entering her swiftly. Her arms clutched at him, nails digging deep into the hard muscles of his back. “Oh God!” she cried out. He rolled his hips, driving deeper inside her with long, slow surges. Her desire burned through her like a raging fire. It wouldn’t be too much longer before her release would take her. She clung to him, blindly searching for his lips, needing his kiss, needing the dizzying taste of him muddying her mind.

John’s body had been starved for hers or months. This was different from the tawdry night they spent together before their foray into Hollow Earth. There was a renewed sense of wanting, of needing between them. The moment he had her, he knew he wasn’t going to last very long.  She was pure pleasure. Each thrust into her, brought him closer to that blinding orgasm that was building, that was waiting to break and spread like wildfire through his veins. John’s body took over, driving into her in shorter, sharper thrusts. They were almost there.

“Right there….” Helen moaned, tightening her hold on him. Her orgasm started to take her, the pleasure racing through her at the same time she felt John’s powers take them back to the bed. The moment her body touched the mattress, he surged into her with vigor, seeking to follow her over the edge of ecstasy. Helen’s mind went blank as she shuddered under the weight of him. Her back arched, her head pressing into the mattress, milking every ounce of pleasure she could get in the moment.

John sank into her one more time, feeling the surge of his release. His body went taut as he came. He hid his face against the side of her neck, his lips giving her soft kisses in between little panting breaths. It took him a moment to regain some semblance of conscious thought, to hold himself above her, seeing the residual bliss playing out on her face. Seconds later, her eyes fluttered open. Leaning down, being drawn to the pleasure of her lips, John kissed her in a lazy manner.

Helen brought her hands up, cupping John’s face, kissing him back. When their lips parted, she chuckled lightly, slipping her hands to the back of his head, pulling free the ties of his mask. She didn’t need him to keep wearing it. Casting it aside, she smiled up at him, enjoying having him against her. Idly, she traced the scar, following it across his cheek. He turned his head, kissing the heel of her hand. “Happy birthday,” she whispered, giving him a soft smile, tinged with a hint of exhaustion.

John shifted to his back, bringing Helen over him while keeping them joined. “I believe this one will help remind me of my true age,” he joked, dropping his hands down to give her thighs a generous, appreciative squeeze. “We do have some hours to go before midnight, giving you time to have your way with me,” he offered.

Helen set her hands on his chest, digging her fingers into the muscles. She leaned down, kissing him this time, moaning into his mouth. For right now, she wanted to savor this moment with him, enjoying the glow of their lovemaking. Sensing what she wanted, they shifted to lie on their sides, gazing at each other.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A little while later, John was out on the terrace, wearing only a towel secured around his hips. The night was waning with dawn on the horizon. A slight breeze whispered around him, chilling the droplets of water falling from the strands of his hair to his skin. With the night still quiet, he could hear Helen turning off the water of the shower they had shared. He closed his eyes, imagining her toweling off, tending to her hair, seeing her skin with a delicate pink hue from the heat of the water.

Helen had picked up John’s shirt, slipping it on, securing only a few buttons. She wasn’t sure if she was going to be taking it off again. Stepping out onto the terrace, she went over to stand next to John, popping a green grape into her mouth. After their passionate exertions, she found herself slightly hungry. She could see him in profile, wearing a little smirk while his eyes were closed. “What wickedness is running through your head?” she asked lightly.

“I was merely listening to you finishing up in the shower,” John answered, glancing at her. He drew her in front of him, dropping his hands down to grip the back of her thighs, perching her on the edge of the wide terrace railing.  She gripped his sides with her knees.

Helen plucked a grape from the vine, holding it up to his lips. When he tried to capture it between his lips, she moved her hand back, giving him a playful grin. She put it between her teeth, daring him again. This time, she didn’t move. He bit into the fruit as he kissed her. Helen leaned her head back, chewing, smiling, and moaning in delight. “Mmm, that’s delicious.”

“I do love the taste of a crisp, tart grape,” John commented, plucking another one off the vine, popping it in his mouth.

Helen glanced over her shoulder, seeing the first red of the dawn lighting the sky. “Seems your birthday celebration has come to an end,” she remarked, looking back at him.

“And I am now one hundred and fifty-three,” John chuckled. “Shall I take you home?”

“Will you stay?” Helen asked.

John wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her from the edge, setting her on her feet. “We can talk about it,” he replied.

Helen rolled her eyes. She should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

TBC....

Chapter Text

2 MONTHS LATER:

Since celebrating John’s birthday, he and Helen had negotiated for one night a week at her Sanctuary and then one night a week spent at his residence in London. It was a taste of domesticity that they had barely begun to enjoy the first time they were planning their lives together. One morning in John’s home, in his bed, Helen had woken feeling rested in a way she hadn’t felt in over a century. Then, she noticed an increase in her fatigue, some minor lower back pain. At first, she chalked it up to overwork and her recent intimate exertions with John.

Helen was in the lab with Henry, listening to him as he gave her the rundown of the logistics of a crate that had gone missing before it arrived at the Sanctuary. She pinched the bridge of her nose, having not heard a word that her clever tech had said.

“Doc, you okay?” Henry asked, suddenly concerned. It was often that the head of the Sanctuary was distracted. The last time she was like this, she was poisoned with radiation sickness.

“I probably haven’t eaten enough today,” Helen answered with a little chuckle.

“Kate and I can track the crate,” Henry offered, wanting to put Magnus at ease. “It’s just a little leg work, I mean, we can do this,” he added sheepishly.

“I trust you two to get the job done,” Helen responded warmly. There was a little knot of unease inside her that the fatigue she was feeling was potentially something else. The bottom dropped out of her stomach as her mind whispered, ‘What if I’m pregnant?’

“Doc?” Henry saw the color drain from her face.

“Track the crate, Henry. We need to get those abnormals here before too much longer,” Helen covered. She patted the young man on the shoulder and then headed out of his lab. While the others were seeing to various day to day operations, she went to the infirmary to draw a vial of her blood, so she could do a pregnancy test. It hadn’t been an issue until John came back into her life. She’d been so caught up in reconnecting with him that she hadn’t been careful when they shared the same bed. For being 159 years old, she was acting like an idiot.

For two agonizing hours while the test was running, Helen was terrified she was with child. When it finished, she read the results and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The fear wasn’t in potentially having another child with John, it was in what could happen to that child. Her wounds over losing Ashley were still too raw. She couldn’t contemplate bringing another little soul into the world that she could potentially one day lose.

Helen printed off the results and then deleted any evidence that she had run the test on herself.  She folded the paper up, slipping it into her pocket. John had to know what she suspected, it was only fair. Before she picked up her phone, she placed her hand flat on her abdomen, admitting to herself that she felt a small tendril of disappointment over not carrying John’s child. They had made a beautiful baby once.

Picking up the cell, Helen called up John’s number. Initiating the call, she waited for him to answer. She started to feel nervous, wondering what she should say. Then came the moment she wondered if she should say anything at all. Helen had the urge to hang up when the call connected. Automatically, she asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m at home, looking at a few old projects we thought about doing when we were the five.”

“I need you to come get me,” Helen said quickly before she could back out. She had made a promise to herself that she would tell John the truth, no matter what it was. They had fostered open and honest communication these last few months with their phone calls, and she wanted that to continue. It helped her to know him better than she had before.

“Tell me where you are.”

Helen winced when she heard the note of concern in his voice. She hadn’t meant to worry him. “I’m in my office.” The line went dead, and she felt him arrive before she turned to see him. John was dressed in attire they would deem casual. Dress shoes, black slacks, and a deep purple loose-fitting button up shirt. He had his hair tied half back out of his face and a look of concern in his eyes.

“And did you have some particular destination in mind?” John asked, trying to keep his tone light despite the worry racing through him. She walked around her desk, crossed the room to him, and immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, pillowing her head on his chest. He brought his right hand up, cupping the back of her head while he wrapped his left arm across her back. The worry he was feeling turned up a few degrees.

“I want you to take me home,” Helen answered, tightening her arms on him. She felt the way he tensed in confusion. “Take me home to London,” she clarified.

John knew something was wrong. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, honoring her request. Using his abilities he took them to his residence. When they appeared in the study, she loosened her grip on him, extricating herself from his arms. He dropped his arms to his sides, waiting.

Helen pulled the test results out of her pocket, handing it to him. Without a word, he accepted the printout, reading over it, letting the confusion show on his face.

“Why am I looking at a blood test?” John asked, looking at her.

“It’s mine,” Helen responded, her voice nearly shaking.

“Yes, but why am I looking at it?” John asked again.

“I’m not pregnant,” Helen replied in a rush. She was battling nerves and renewed sense of terror and heartache.

“You thought you might be?” John inquired carefully, not sure if he should react to the emotions flying across her face. The bottom had dropped out of his stomach when he looked over the results. Terror raced through him for a split second, thinking they had created another child. Knowing that she wasn’t pregnant had him very relieved – as bad as the thought was.

“That thought scared me,” Helen admitted, looking down at the floor, uncertain if she was ready to look into his eyes to see what he was feeling.

“And now?” John asked, careful to keep his tone neutral, lest his relief enrage her.  

“I’m relieved,” Helen said, unknowingly echoing his own sentiments.

“Alright,” John whispered, nodding his head. He set the test results on the nearby desk. Carefully, he perched on the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest, breathing out slowly.

“What about you? How do you feel about this?” Helen asked, her voice trembling. Worry raced through her that he might have actually wanted her to be carrying his child.

John dropped his hands, gripping the edge of the desk. “Relieved,” he muttered as he closed his eyes, lowering his head.

“Tell me honestly, don’t just repeat what I’ve said,” Helen snapped.

“Are you kidding? Am I not allowed to be in agreement with you?” John replied heatedly.

“Tell me how you feel,” Helen demanded, her voice rising in volume.

“Damnit, woman! I am relieved,” John roared, surging to his feet. He angrily rubbed at the back of his head, taking a moment to calm himself down. Nothing would be gained by yelling at each other. “Why are we arguing?’ he wondered, looking at her.

Helen’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know…” she said with a weary sigh.

John held out his hand to her, silently asking her to take it. He could see the debate in her eyes as he waited for her to come to him. They had grown by leaps and bounds, returning to the couple they had been before the Ripper rose to sew its chaos.

Helen didn’t want to hold herself apart from him. She went to him, taking his hand, lacing their fingers together. The warmth of his skin against her felt calming. “So… we’re both relieved?” she asked, looking down at their hands.

“For different reasons, I think,” John responded, tugging her back in against his chest, resting his chin atop her head. There was a small couch facing the fireplace. He guided her over to it, getting her to sit. John left her there, heading for a small cabinet where he kept a decanter of barrel aged highland whiskey. Before he thought better of it, he poured two glasses.

Helen sat back on the antique sofa, accepting the crystal tumbler John offered her. He clinked the bottom of his against the one in her hand. She didn’t think twice about lifting it to her lips, taking a sip of the alcohol. It burned on its way down her throat.

John knocked back the two fingers of whiskey, hissing at the burn. Haphazardly, he left his glass atop the mantle, and then turned to Helen. She was nursing her drink, and he knew she had no intention of finishing it. The silence was stretching out and getting tenser by the second. One of them had to say something.

Helen took another sip – a little liquid courage. “Why are you relieved?” she asked quietly, needing to hear his answer. He sucked in a sharp breath, turning, to brace his hands on the mantle.

“I don’t deserve to father another child,” John answered, guilt coloring his words. “I’ve killed far too many people, and I failed the daughter we already had. None of that gives me the right to be a father again.” He gripped the edge of the mantle, his knuckles turning white. That was the easy, expected answer. In truth, being a father terrified him to the bone. Everything he’d said to Helen during their search for Ashley had been designed to keep her at a distance, to prick at her, and to keep her from seeing how much having their child taken had affected him. “Your turn. Why are you relieved?” he asked, his voice was rough with the effort to keep his emotions under control.

Helen could hear the notes of his deception. He was saying what he thought she wanted to hear. It didn’t change the fact, she owed him an answer as well. “For two hours I was afraid that you and I had created another unique little soul that I would fall in love with. I started to panic over the future, over what would happen to another of our children. Would they be taken? Would they be used…?” Her voice started to shake as she spoke. “You say you failed our daughter. No. My hubris brought the ire of the Cabal down on us.” Guilt was insidious. “Everything that happen to Ashley was my fault!”

That confession pricked at John’s protective instincts. Turning, he went to her, crouching down in front of her. “No, you hate me, you blame me for Ashley. Not yourself. I failed. I didn’t do what had to be done to get her back for you.” He reached up, cupping her face. The torment was too much for him to bear. “We can play this twisted blame game until we’re blue in the face for the next hundred years. The Cabal had planned this for decades, longer… We were too caught up to see what was really happening.”

Helen slid to the edge of the sofa, cupping his face in return, pressing her brow to his. “We need to be more careful,” she said. He was right about slinging blame. It would do nothing but hurt them. “Our pain and our guilt are still too close to the surface.” She feared that any child they could have would be born under the weight of sadness.

“At least we agree I’m not fit to father a child,” John said in a moderately self-deprecating fashion.

“I don’t agree with that,” Helen responded. “You would have been a loving father to Ashley had life turned out differently.” That’s what they were getting caught up on. What if. What could have been. There were remnants of who they had been in their early days. John had had a deceptively lazy air about him, able to project ease with any situation. It covered the intent way he paid attention to everyone around him. The quiet scrutiny was still there without the mask of playful languid ease. Being bound to that creature had changed him more than they wanted to admit. Before the disaster of White Chapel, he would have taken to being a father, and a husband. Now, he was almost afraid of what that could mean.

“Hmm…” John muttered, dropping his hands to stand up. He went back to the fireplace, picked up his glass so he could pour himself another two fingers of whiskey. After he was released from the grip of that creature, he realized what could have happened when he and Helen had their tumble between the sheets. He had thought to take care of it medically, but something always stopped him. Their bodies had a certain amount of regenerative capabilities. There was a small concern that if he sterilized himself, it would only be a temporary measure.

“I want you to know I’m not afraid of having your children, it’s the fear of what the world might do to them,” Helen clarified, hoping it would get him to look at her. He replaced the stopper in the decanter, lifting the glass to his lips.  The amber liquid disappeared into his mouth. John swallowed harshly, hissing afterwards. She would wait until he was ready to keep talking. One thing she knew about him was he couldn’t be rushed when he wasn’t ready.

John cleared his throat, setting the glass on the silver tray atop the cabinet. “Shall we take an early evening stroll while we have the light? The air might do us some good,” he offered, finally turning to her. Helen wore a soft, careful expression while her eyes remained sad.

“I only wanted to be honest with you, John,” Helen said softly, holding his gaze.

“That I appreciate,” John assured her. “Might we set this topic aside for a while? It has pricked at a few old wounds for us both.”

For once Helen didn’t argue, didn’t try to press the issue until it was resolved. She simply gave him what he wanted. Rising from the sofa, she offered him her hand as he had done a little while ago. He took her hand, grasping it like it were his lifeline to sanity, to stability.

*~*~*~*~*

John and Helen had walked the streets in silence, holding each other close, letting their minds churn and analyze the conversation they had both endured. It hadn’t driven them apart. It had turned them introspective. Their stroll had taken them near Parliament and Big Ben, where the ancient clock tolled the midnight hour. Stopping with the massive building in the background, John took Helen’s hand, asking, “Shall I take you home? Your people must know you’re missing by now.”

“I’d rather stay with you tonight,” Helen responded, giving his hand a little squeeze. She had a need to be held by him, to be surrounded by the scent of him, and have the safety of his arms around her. “If my people need me, they’ll call,” she added.

John looked around to make sure they were unobserved as he pulled Helen against his chest. The fingers of his left hand laced with her right, giving her a return squeeze. Cupping the back of her head with his right hand, he used his powers to take them to his home.

Helen didn’t even blink when they appeared in the front hall of John’s rowhouse. She stepped back, shedding the borrowed coat from her shoulders. It had been the one he’d worn on their trip to Bhalasaam. She handed it to him, letting him hang it up in the closet next to his long woolen coat.

Silently, John took her hand, leading her up the stairs towards the master suite. They entered the bedroom with Helen going over to the dresser that had been cleared out for her to keep some of her clothes in. Last week, they hadn’t slept. They had dug up some old experiments from their days at Oxford to try. It had been fun to be back in the lab with John, working with him alone. Tonight, all she wanted was to be held.

They changed in relative silence. Helen heard him take a seat on the edge of the bed. When she turned around to look at him, he had his forearms resting on his knees and his head was lowered. She went to him without a second thought. “Are you angry with me?” she asked softly.

John sat up, placing his hands on her hips. “I’m not angry,” he assured her. “I don’t enjoy being caught off guard.” The last thing he had expected was for her to tell him she thought she was pregnant.

“That wasn’t my intention. I only wanted to be honest,” Helen responded, repeating her earlier comment. “If I was pregnant, there wouldn’t be any way I could hide it from you this time.” She leaned down, pressing a light kiss to his furrowed brow.

John wrapped his arms around Helen’s waist, tumbling her to the bed. She laughed, her legs draping over his side as he rested his head on her chest. “I’m sorry I panicked,” he whispered.

“You were not alone in that,” Helen replied. “I did my fair share of panicking as well.” She stroked the back of his head.

“We certainly have to be more careful,” John repeated her earlier words in a light tone of agreement. Neither of them were ready to be responsible for a child. He certainly wasn’t. It was enough he had to be responsible for himself.

“Yes, we do,” Helen replied with a little half moan half sigh.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Once the ease had returned between them, John and Helen had curled up in bed, talking through their fears and promising to revisit the topic of a child when they were emotionally ready for it. Perhaps in a hundred years. They laughed, even though they were serious about the time frame. Then they lapsed into a comfortable silence, giving each other gentle, comforting touches that soothed the both of them.

John felt the soft tendril of sleep loosen on him as a peculiar buzzing broke through the blackness. He knew the weight of Helen at his side, her head resting on his chest, and her arm across his stomach. An annoyed groan rumbled in his chest as he shifted, blindly searching for the source. On the bedside table, his hand touched Helen’s cellphone, feeling the buzzing against his palm. He picked it up, fumbling for a moment, trying to initiate the call. With his eyes barely open, he managed to get the call to connect. Putting the phone to his ear, he asked in a slurred tone, “Hello.”

“Druitt?”

“Dr. Zimmerman, what do you want?” John asked, his voice rough with a desire to go back to sleep. Responding to the tension, Helen grumbled in her sleep, shifting closer to him.

“I need to talk to Magnus. It’s important.”

John dropped his head back against the pillow with a grunt of annoyance. His brain was waking up by the second. He lowered his arm, so it dangled over the side of the bed.  “Helen, your protégé is on the phone,” he mumbled.

Helen groaned. She was half awake already. In a futile attempt to go deeper into unconsciousness, she rolled over and away from John. He shifted with her, spooning up behind her, bringing the phone up to her ear. Helen groaned again, asking, “What’s happening?”

“Were you sleeping?”

“It’s the middle of the night, it’s what people do,” Helen grumbled, not wanting her brain to wake up.

“You don’t.”

“Will, if you don’t tell me what you want, I’m hanging up,” Helen threatened.

“Oh, do, please hang up,” John snarled, and then hid his head under his pillow. He draped his free arm over top the black satin case, adding a little pressure, hoping to drown out the conversation.

Helen sighed, sitting up, turning, so leaned back against John’s side waiting for Will to start talking. “Ten seconds, Will,” she prodded verbally.

“There’s someone here to talk to you. Gregory sent them.”

“Gregory?” Helen questioned.

John reacted to the tone of her voice. Pulling the pillow off his head, he looked at her. Helen held her hand up, halting any of his questions. He rested his left hand against her back while he waited.

“Something’s happened in Hollow Earth, and it has to do with Adam Worth.”

Helen tensed. Behind her, John reacted to it. She placed her free hand on his chest, giving him a little soothing pat, and telling him to wait. “We’ll be there shortly, Will,” she said, ending the call.

“Dare I ask?” John shifted a little.

“My father has sent a messenger from Praxis. They’ll only talk to me,” Helen fibbed.

“Alright,” John groaned, shaking his head.

SANCTUARY:

Will milled about the foyer, keeping his eyes on the denizen from Praxis. His experience with Fallon was still present in his memory. It grated against his nerves that she was here now, at the behest of Gregory and nothing else. She was nervous, guilty, and questioning her recent choices. Will was waiting impatiently for Magnus and Druitt to show up.

Fallon was out of choices. Gregory had caught her reviving Adam after he’d been delivered to Praxis. If she didn’t want to be punished, then he had told her to report to him everything Worth was doing. She had little choice but to do as Gregory wanted. When things grew out of her control, the elder Magnus sent her topside, and right to Helen Magnus.

“We didn’t keep you waiting long, did we?” John asked when he and Helen appeared. She waited a few seconds before she unlinked her arm from his.

Helen stepped away from John. “You’re who my father sent?” she questioned, shaking her head.

“He cajoled me,” Fallon clarified.

John stayed back out of the way, watching the potential drama unfold in front of him. He watched the way the young woman shifted back and forth from foot to foot. “Blackmailed more like, if your guilty expression and nervous swaying is anything to go by,” he tossed out.

“Gregory didn’t give me a choice,” Fallon defended heatedly.

“How does Adam Worth figure into it?” Will asked, trying to move this along.

“We delivered Worth to you as a corpse. What have you done?” John snapped.

Helen turned, holding her hand up, telling him to dial his anger back. “Let me handle this,” she said softly. His gaze linked with hers and she showed him how furious she was in this moment, but she was keeping a lid on it.

“Of course,” John nodded. There was something he needed to do. “I won’t be far away should you need me,” he said, keeping his voice low, but his eyes were on the woman. Helen gave him a look of agreement before moving away, to be the sympathetic one. John lingered a moment, watching Helen’s back. Then, while he still could, he walked away to do something he should have done a while ago.

Moving through the familiar halls of the Sanctuary, John made his way to the cathedral. It had been one hundred and fifty years since the last time he’d set foot in a church of any kind. He hesitated on the threshold, his foot held up, waiting for divine wrath to smite him. When he stepped over, nothing terrible happened to him. Snidely, he thought his father would be disappointed.

John took every step carefully, mindful of where he was headed. Nerves fluttered in his stomach, guilt tore at him the closer he drew to the white sandstone maker set in the wall for Ashley.  He skirted the metal and glass that covered the hole, giving him a glimpse into the lab below.

John stopped by the first pew, his hand gripping the backrest to keep him on his feet. The wave of sorrow that slammed into him was unexpected. He could feel a residual imprint of the pain Helen had to have been feeling on the day she buried an empty casket. It was all he could do to move around the aged carved wood to have a seat before his knees buckled. He rested his forearms on his knees, lowering his head, taking a few calming breaths.

Sitting up, gripping the seat of the bench, John forced his head up, forced himself to look at the grave marker. His heart stopped seeing her name carved in gothic letters. Grief pulled him from the bench, and over towards the marker. “I should have been with your mother the day she laid your memory to rest. Instead, where was I? I was off feeding my compulsion, committing more sins, painting my hands with more blood.” He sighed harshly, voicing the regret he couldn’t even say to Helen. “I apologize for all my sins, but two. I don’t regret fathering you before your mother and I were married. I certainly don’t regret the revenge I took on your captors.”

John stepped back, reaching for the synthetic ruby under his shirt. He held the man made gem in his hand. Once he started talking, he found he didn’t want to stop, even though he knew there was nothing under the marker. Not even ashes. “Your mother is convinced had I not been so afflicted with my murderous compulsion; I would’ve been a loving father. Maybe I would’ve been. Or maybe, I would’ve turned out like my own father. Cold. Distant. Uninterested in his own children.”

Wandering back to the bench, John sat and sighed. “Though, that doesn’t sound right. Had I been fortunate to remain with your mother, I would have found my way after a few missteps,” he said softly and with a chuckle. “It makes me wonder if you’d be happy that Helen and I are finding our way back to each other.” He took a moment to smile sadly to himself. “Your voice is still in my head, telling me to act like your father. I wish you knew how hard I tried after you were taken… and after you…died.”

John sighed heavily, sitting back, keeping his eyes on the sandstone. He strayed into quiet contemplation, letting the old serenity of the cathedral ease away any of his sorrow. For that to happen, he’d have to sit in the same place for the next thousand years. He knew this bout of melancholy for what it was. It was a dangerous spiral, traipsing down a road that never would be traveled.

“I didn’t think you’d be in here,” Helen stated, drawing his attention. She hadn’t set foot in here since the memorial. It sent ripples of sadness through her as she sat down next to him.

“It was long overdue,” John replied. He draped his right arm across her shoulders, bringing her in against his side. “Our little panic had me realizing I needed to do this, no matter how it might wound me.”

“The one and only time I set foot in here was when I closed the casket,” Helen said to him, her voice trembling.

John pressed a kiss to Helen’s brow. As much as he didn’t want to, he asked, “Is Adam Worth alive?”

“It appears so. Fallon revived him herself,” Helen answered, leaning fully against him.

John held his tongue. This was no place to sling insults, not with their daughter’s grave so close by.  Removing his arm, he stood up, offering his hand to her. Even he knew to show respect in a place dedicated to a higher power. He laced their fingers together, heading out. Once they were out in the hall, John let go of her hand, crossing his arms over his chest. “What has that little twit done?”

“Adam had her believing that he would help her overthrow the ruling class of Praxis and give power to the disenfranchised,” Helen explained, shaking her head. “He made alliances with several different tribes down there after his resurrection.”

“She is delusional if she ever thought Adam would care,” John growled.

“I can’t speak to her motivations,” Helen replied, shaking off his irritation.

John heaved a huge, irritated and resigned sigh. “We have to go back to Praxis, don’t we?”

“Adam started out as our problem,” Helen said, skirting around his question.

“We’ve already killed him twice. Once out of duty. Once out of mercy. I think it’s time Praxis pick up the slack.” John leaned back against the wall, glowering at the floor.

“I won’t argue with you over it,” Helen stated, showing she agreed with him regarding Adam.  “You know we have to stop him. It’s even more imperative now that he’s managed to unlock time travel,” she whispered, taking a step closer to him.

“What if we can’t?” John asked, raising his head to look at her. Time had shown that Adam was adept at sowing his chaos and escaping death.

“Then, we try and negate the damage…” Helen suggested.

“And Praxis will owe us, should we succeed,” John grumbled.

“You think we’ll fail?” Helen asked, reaching out to him, tugging on his shirt.

“When you and I work together, there’s nothing we can’t do,” John answered, giving her a little smile. Somehow, Adam Worth had found a way to interfere in their lives, yet again.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Helen said sweetly, knowing she was getting her way. For her benefit, he rolled his eyes while wearing the ghost of a smile. They headed to their respective rooms to change into

*~*~*~*~*~*

“Absolutely not,” John snapped, pointing at the turncoat who had offered her services as a guide through the network of tunnels in Hollow Earth.

“I can take you right to Adam’s lab where he’s built his time machine,” Fallon responded defiantly. “He plans to use a device to open a rift that will allow him to go back in time.”

“Your services wouldn’t be required had you not revived that diminutive madman in the first place,” John accused her heatedly.

As much as Helen enjoyed watching John make valid points, they didn’t have the luxury of time. They needed to get to Adam before he did something catastrophic. “We’ll take her with us,” she decided, drawing the annoyed, shocked expression from John.

“Seeing as I am the only way we are getting to Praxis, I decline to take her along,” John argued. He stared Helen down, daring her to continue to fight him on this.

“We don’t have the luxury of searching the entirety of Hollow Earth for where Worth has concealed himself. She knows the quickest way to get there,” Helen stated, feeling time running out for them.

“She could lead us into a trap, Helen,” John stressed, casting a suspicious sidelong glance at the turncoat in their midst.

“Why would I do that?” Fallon asked, anger in her tone.

John rounded on her. “Individuals in your situation look for any out they can get. You are quite literally trapped between a rock and a hard place. You’d think nothing of betraying us to save yourself.”

“You have no idea the position I was in,” Fallon argued.

“Oh, please…” John scoffed. “I’ve been blackmailed before, and I did what I could to get out from under the blackmailer’s thumb. No matter what you tell yourself, your situation is not unique.”

“None of this changes the fact she can get us to Adam quickly,” Helen stated, drawing attention back to her. John’s eyes had gone dark, showing the anger he was feeling.

John leveled his gaze with Fallon. “You make one wrong move…”

“And you’ll kill me?” Fallon asked snidely, interrupting his threat.

“No, she’ll shoot you,” John responded, indicating the gun Helen had in the holster on her right thigh. They were both wearing the clothes they had worn during the final assault from the Cabal – the night they lost Ashley. While he kept his eyes on Fallon, he offered his arm to Helen. She linked hers with his radiating smugness at getting him to capitulate to her. John resisted the smirk he could feel tugging at his lips. Helen always knew he would give into her. Reaching out, he took Fallon’s upper arm in his grip, and then teleported out.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The three of them had appeared in the supply tunnels on the outskirts of the city. John kept a safe distance between them and Fallon. There was a tension inside him that he couldn’t explain, and until he could, he was going to keep Helen close. He kept his gaze tracking back and forth through the tunnel they were walking through.

Helen leaned in close, whispering, “You’re keeping a healthy distance between us and her.”

“I hate this place,” John grumbled.

“Is that why you’re giving off the feeling of being a tiger pacing its cage?” Helen asked, hoping the comparison would get him to look at her. She could tell what he was really feeling when she looked into his eyes.

“It feels wrong down here,” John answered cryptically.

“What’s wrong?” Helen was instantly on alert. He didn’t answer her. Instead, he kept his suspicious gaze centered on the area ahead of Fallon. “John, you’re an adult, use your words, please,” she prodded, nudging him.

“It’s hard to describe,” John started to say. “The air… it feels…dead,” he said, pausing, searching for the most adequate words to describe the complexity of what he was feeling. “When we were here the first time, I had this sense we were walking towards a bustling civilization. I could even tell we were being watched. Now, I feel none of that.”

“Like a thrum of life?” Helen asked cautiously, unsure if their conversation was being overheard or not. He had to have some way to sense the energy of others when he teleported into an populated area.

John nodded. “This world feels dead,” he responded quietly. Then, he placed his hand on her arm, putting a little more distance between them and Fallon. “We’re not headed towards the city,” he whispered.

“I noticed that too,” Helen replied. “We’ll let it play out for now. Adam wouldn’t have his lab that close and run the risk of someone stumbling upon it and thwarting his plans.”

They walked quietly, letting the feeling of the dead city surround them. Eventually, their guilt-ridden guide turned them down a narrow tunnel that had a slight incline. Helen and John shared a curious glance, but neither asked where the path would lead.

Fallon was taking a circuitous route to where Adam had constructed his lab. She needed to see for herself what the price of her alliance with Worth had truly cost. Her unwilling travel companions hadn’t questioned where she was taking them. They hadn’t objected to the small detour. Somehow, they sensed what she was yet unwilling to believe. Her world was gone. The tunnel opened up onto an overlook that would have had the perfect view of the sprawling city below. That wasn’t the sight to greet Fallon’s eyes. A small, shuddering gasp of disbelief and pain slipped from her.

Helen stepped up next to the young woman, seeing the devastation Adam had wrought. The hidden metropolis was utterly destroyed, looking as if a nuclear bomb had been detonated. It was the effect of the time travel device that Adam had created. She turned her head, seeing Jon standing be her right side. “We’re already too late,” she muttered.

“It’s only too late if we’re dead,” John responded quietly. Then, he looked to Fallon. “Are we close?” His tone was clipped, but with an edge of sympathy. She hadn’t expected to lose everything. It was something he understood, as much as he may not want to.

Fallon nodded; her eyes riveted on the destruction below. She didn’t trust herself to speak and risk the scathing rebuke from the former Jack the Ripper. It was evident that she had chosen the wrong person to have faith in to facilitate change.

Helen had no words that would make the situation better. She stepped up beside Fallon, laying a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. A small shudder ran through the young woman moments before she stepped away. She glanced at John. He shrugged, shaking his head. They were on borrowed time. Fallon didn’t need to be reminded of why they were there.

*~*~*~*~*~*

John split his attention between Helen and Fallon. Quietly, their despondent guide took them to their intended destination. He and Helen stopped short of entering a chamber that had been outfitted with technology that appeared cobbled together to form some contraption that had allowed Adam Worth the ability to travel back in time. “This looks like something out of Mary Shelley’s FRANKENSTEIN,” he whispered.

“Yes, the only thing missing is the patchwork corpse waiting to be brought back to life,” Helen agreed. The equipment, though advanced by their standards, looked like a mad scientist’s laboratory.  

“There could be one stashed here somewhere,” John muttered.

“Robbing graves was not something Adam was known to do,” Helen reminded him. He gave her a skeptical look.

John moved into the room, mindful of the danger they could be facing. Adam was a wily one. He could have left a trap behind. For once the honed predatory senses that creature cultivated in him were working to his advantage. There was nothing that threatened them for the moment.

Fallon couldn’t believe the factions had destroyed everything. She moved to the nearest console, leaning heavily against it. Gregory had made her tell him every detail of what Adam was planning. She listened. She learned. And Adam still managed to conceal his true plans from her. It made her wonder if Gregory had found information from another source that he wasn’t confiding in her. Fallon had used to be in a place of trust, only to fall so far from grace that she hardly recognized her circumstances.

Helen watched John prowl around the cavern. There was something pricking at his senses. She could tell from the set of his shoulders and the way he kept his arms at his side. He was ready to fight. The next thing she knew, the lights were flickering. She shared a look with John, both of them confused as to what it meant.

“Are you simply going to sit there and mope?” John asked, turning his attention on Fallon. She had a part to play in the demise of her civilization when she aligned herself with Adam. Now she was suffering the consequences of her blind devotion to a lunatic.

“There’s nothing to be done, it’s too late,” Fallon said, looking away.

“Oh, so you’re not even going to try and fix what you helped to break?” John asked with an edge of heat. “Look around you! Because you sided with a monster, everything you know is gone. This damage is on you,” he accused.

“Because you’re such an expert?” Fallon shot back.

“If you two are going to argue, go somewhere else,” Helen cut in, glaring at the both of them. Fallon she could do without. She wanted John’s attention focused on the problem at hand, not in berating some young woman.

“We’re going to do all we can to stop Adam, and you’re just sitting here… taking up space,” John pointed out.

Another power surge hit, drawing their attention.

Helen looked at John, silently asking him if he had concluded the same thing. His nod was all the confirmation she needed. “Come help me set up,” she said to him, motioning him over. Setting the pack on the console in front of her, she opened it and removed her laptop.

“Do we think the destruction of the city is causing these surges?” John asked, reaching for the computer, making it look like he accidentally covered her hand with his. He tapped his real question to her. “Adam?”

Helen removed her hand from under his, lightly patting the crook of his left arm, while tilting her head to the left. The gestures meant possibly. “We’ll tap into these consoles to find out what Adam was doing,” she said out loud decisively.

Quietly, they worked. Trading places every once in a while. After getting the computers to interface with the Praxian technology, John began to study the power consumption. Somehow, Adam was drawing huge amounts of it. Tapping Helen on the arm, he motioned for her to look at the screen. “The drain looks localized to this area of the underground,” he whispered, in case Adam was lurking. “All of this looks to be drawing on the geothermal power that the city uses.”

“That means he’s close by. We have to force him out into the open somehow,” Helen replied without looking at John.

“Maybe I can interrupt the power he’s using…” John said, trailing off, looking around the room. The metal cylinders had power cables hooked into them. He left her side, going to them, giving them a good once over. The creature wasn’t inside him anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t absorb energy.

“John, we have no way of knowing what that will do,” Helen advised cautiously. Her heart beat rapidly out of fear for him. “This could do damage to your body, it could have a catastrophic effect on your powers….”

“We have to force him to come to us before he can implement his plan. This is a way to do that,” John replied as he yanked a cable free. They shared a look while he pulled the second one from his place.

Helen stepped in close to him before he could attempt this insanity. “Don’t destroy this body, do you hear me. I’m not done with it yet,” she whispered, giving him a stern expression.

John nodding, then gave her a look that said she should step back. He concentrated on drawing the energy into his body. Electricity zipped in and out of his cells, giving him the sense of painful power surging through him. A few more seconds. He was going to hold out that long.

Helen looked around, searching for Adam to make his appearance. She hadn’t been prepared for him to simply appear. He looked shocked at first, and then smug when Helen raised her gun, pointing it at him, pulling the trigger. The bullet impacted the stone behind him. And then he disappeared. “He’s out of phase,” she said in shock turning to John. One good thing about that was he couldn’t attack them.

John let go of the cables, breathing harder. “I was not expecting that,” he commented. His whole body tingled with the energy that raced through his cells. It made him feel more powerful than he had in a long time.

Helen shook her head, dropping her arm, returning her gun to the holster. Going to John, she placed the pad of her index and middle fingers against his pule point, checking his heart rate. Despite what he’d done, his heart rate was only slightly elevated. “Adam has some sort of device with him. It must be how he intends to open his time rift,” she said. She looked around for Fallon, not surprised to see she’d slipped away.

“Do you think you can disrupt the flow of power keeping him out of phase?” John asked. His body was still tingling.

Helen looked over, seeing the console was damaged. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s overloaded.”

John leaned heavily on the metal cylinder to his right. “Give me a few minutes before I syphon more power and bring him back out into the open,” he replied, exhaling heavily.

“We can find another way,” Helen immediately said.

John smirked. “You’ve said that before,” he reminded her sadly.

“And you didn’t give me time to find it. You leapt in…” Helen started to berate him. He took that creature back into his body, returning to the murderous enslavement without even letting her think of a way to save them.

“Helen, the one constant of our relationship is that I put your life ahead of anyone else, including myself. When I took that creature back, it was the right thing to do because you had no time before we all would’ve been killed,” John interrupted her, keeping his voice calm and warm. “And you have no time now. I can do this.”

Helen looked away from him. John was giving her the same damn expression he had moments before he left, taking the creature back into his body once more. He was calm and resolved to do something dangerous while wearing that little smile of his. “Why are you always trying to die on me?” she asked, looking at him again.

“Who says I’m going to die?” John responded.

“You don’t have that elemental to feed the energy to,” Helen stated.

“I can convert my body to pure energy. If anything, this will make my powers stronger and more accurate,” John replied completely pulling that answer out of thin air without any proof to back it up. “We don’t have time to argue. I’m going to syphon as much power as I have to, so you can stop Adam.” He took hold of the cables again, steeling himself for the flood of power that was about to course through his body.

Helen turned to the wall where Adam would be drawn back into phase. She couldn’t watch him put his life at risk. Hearing his grunts and groans of distress were bad enough. Stopping Worth was the priority. Helen pulled her gun and waited.

Adam was pulled back enough to be seen. “Johnny I always knew you were crazy, but I didn’t think you were this crazy.”

Helen ignored John laughing behind her. It was an echo of the madman he’d been. “Adam, stop this.”

“Afraid I can’t,” Adam replied, shrugging in an arrogant fashion. “I’m doing what I have to so my daughter will live. I’m doing the one thing you couldn’t be bothered to do.”

“Countless people could die if you do this,” Helen urged, trying to reason with him.

“I don’t care about other people. I care about my daughter. Perhaps, if you cared enough about your own…” Adam started to spew venomously. The console beeped and the stolen power source lit up. The time rift opened behind him. “Time and tide and all that.” He picked up a couple of cases and disappeared back to 1898.

John dropped to his knees, panting, his body feeling like it would tear itself apart and vanish at the slightest thought.  “Get after him…Helen…” he panted. She spared him a look, conveying so much. He nodded. “I’ll see you at the Sanctuary.” It was a promise he intended to keep.

Helen went, forcing herself not to look back.

The moment the rift closed; John only had a second to react. He should have known Adam would rig it to explode. There was only a second to use his power to dematerialize his body and survive the worst of the blast. He didn’t know if it would work, but he had to try.

TBC....

Chapter Text

“John…”

John distantly heard the voice that always echoed in his mind. Awareness was coming back to him. He coughed, forcing a shockwave of pain to radiate through him. Another cough came, followed by a fit of wheezing.

“John, I need you to open your eyes.”

“He…l…en….” John could barely speak. He felt as if he had a mill stone pressing down on his chest.

“You have to look at me. Come on now.”

John tried again, tried to make his eye lids raise. Everything hurt. The simple act of opening his eyes seemed too monumental for him to accomplish. There was a blackness clawing at his mind, drawing him down, wanting to keep him unconscious.

“No, no, no…. You have to stay with me. Please, open your eyes.”

John could hear the worry. “I’m so tired…” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. All he wanted to do was rest for a little while.

“I know you are, but if you don’t wake up, if you don’t get out of here, then you can’t get the treatment you need.”

“It… hurts…” John wasn’t unaccustomed to pain. He was having a hard time finding his way through this level of pain. Every molecule of his body was in agony. The mere thought of moving hurt.

“You have a reservoir of strength. You need to draw on it.”

The confidence, the certainty in her voice gave John a flash of strength to open his eyes. He groaned as soft amber light cut across his vision. Having had them closed for who knows how long, any source of light stung. Another cough pricked his lungs, threatening to send another cascade of pain through him. The only thing that kept him moderately still was the sight of Helen smiling down on him. “How are you here?”

“I’m not really here, though, am I?”

“A figment…” John whispered. He must have a concussion severe enough for him to hallucinate.

“You must need me to motivate you.”

John looked up at Helen, her long fall of blonde hair in a riot of curls falling over her left shoulder and tied with a black tie. The dress he wore was the same as she had been in when they had gone to see Twelfth Night and he proposed to her. “No better motivation….” He tried to make a flippant remark, but the cough he’d been fighting crippled him for the moment.

“I’m trying to help, but you’re not making it easy.”

“Forgive me not rising to attention. I did survive a powerful explosion,” John replied, realizing he was ridiculous for conversing with a figment as a result from potential brain damage.

“You’ve always had a strong will to survive, despite the multiple times you’ve tried let your life end.”

“Something told me I still hope,” John replied, the discomfort in his lung easing for the moment.

“You never listen when I say there is always another way.”

“Tell me, my dear doctor, what is my other way out of this?” John asked lightly.

“Getting up would be a good start.”

“You’re in my head. Can’t you tell me something I want to hear?” John groaned, gritting his teeth when another thrum of pain came.

“Something like, ‘Oh, John, you’re a big strong man. You make me weak in the knees’?”

“That was uncalled for,” John groused, but with a smile and a chuckle.

“It got you to smile.”

“Which I’m sure was your true intent,” John replied. As the moments went by, more and more feeling returned to him. He lifted his head a fraction, seeing that he wasn’t pinned by any debris. Teleporting had helped him not die in the explosion, but the concussive force hadn’t missed him even in a dematerialized state.

“It used to be so easy for you to smile. When you did, my heart would flutter. There was a warmth in it that touched my soul.”

“And then came the dark days,” John muttered sadly. He placed his hands on the ground, pushing himself up. His arms shook with the effort, and he remained lying on his back. It caused a quick shockwave of pain to race through him.

“The dark days weren’t all that there were.”

“Over one hundred years of them. We weren’t…” John started to argue, and then stopped himself.

“We weren’t human long enough to negate the pain of loss.”

“It was my fault. I let that creature…” John trailed off, fighting the agony, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

“Stop blaming yourself. It happened. There is no taking it back. All you can do is move on.”

“Are you trying to provoke me?” John grunted.

“Is it working?”

John couldn’t resist the smile at the sound of her amusement. “Yes,” he answered silently. The smile she gave him warmed his heart – even if it was merely a remembrance from a figment of his mind.

“Good. Now, get up, and get yourself out of here. You have a promise to keep.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

John had managed to get himself out of the ruins of Adam’s lab. Doggedly, each stop had gotten harder and harder, his breathing labored, and his desire to keep going was waning. His figment had kept him company the entire time, and the conversations had come and gone when he’d fallen into sour contemplation. Each time he tried to blame himself, she immediately put a stop to it. The manifestation of Helen tried to engage him in light joking, with some clever teasing, and some wicked comments all designed to lift his spirits, to keep him focused on getting out.

John leaned against the stone wall, grunting in pain. “I need to take a minute,” he mumbled, his breathing getting shallow. It felt like he had shards of glass cutting into his lungs from the inside. His ribs were in agony, having felt like he’d been nearly crushed by a giant boa constrictor.

“You can’t stop. John, you’re so close to the surface and getting out of here.”

“I am walking to my death. Any further and I’m going to collapse,” John replied through gritted teeth. He was surprised he was still on his feet. His muscles were shaking and the bones in his body could shatter if he stepped wrong.

“A few moments to rest, and not a second longer.”

“So stern with me,” John muttered, chuckling lightly. He leaned his temple against the cold stone, closing his eyes, focusing on slowing his breathing.

“Someone has to keep you in line.”

“Nobody does it better…” John replied, sighing lightly. He didn’t know if he could make it out far enough away from the lode stone to teleport. There mere thought of using his powers made his body ache from head to toe. Through it all, he could feel her staring at him.

“Did I ruin your life?”

John’s eyes flew open, his head turning to her, triggering a small surge of pain through his battered body. “Why would you ask that?”

“I am a figment of your mind, so feel free to speak with absolute candor. Did I ruin your life?”

John closed his eyes; his first instinct was to proclaim that she ruined nothing. “After the confrontation that night that ended with me receiving a bullet to the face, the rage was uncontrollable. In my fits, I blamed you and James. I blamed the blood. I blamed my own inability to tell you no. I had no true concept of what I was giving up to follow you into the unknown.” He fell silent, pressing his temple against the rock, inducing a minute amount of pain. “We all wanted to impress you with our boldness, hoping it matched yours.”

“You were already bold enough for me.”

“And I ended up deranged,” John commented dryly with sadness coloring each word.

“Not anymore. The elemental is gone and you’re free from its influence.”

“The damage is done, though,” John responded sadly.

“Damage that can be repaired in time.”

John sighed at the hope in her voice. It was an echo of the traitorous emotion that still lived inside him. “At least one of us is looking on the bright side.” She had – still was – been the symbol of his hope. Even on his darkest days, his mind would conjure her face to bring him some measure of comfort.

“Now, here’s some cold reality for you. If you don’t get moving, you’re going to die down here.”

“Still wondering if you ruined my life?” John asked, pushing himself away from the wall with a grunt of effort. He trudged along, each step getting harder and harder. The pain that dogged him was getting worse. His comment from earlier might not have been an exaggeration. He might very well be walking to his death.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Helen had a crisis to keep her mind occupied. The Hollow Earth tribes had been relocated to a safe haven with an undisclosed location. For right now, hostilities had ceased, and a détente had been reached. Now, she was free to worry about John. With every hour that went by she grew more concerned that he wasn’t coming back. She’d taken the long way back after stopping Adam. This time for good.

Will hadn’t had a moment to stop and think. The last time he saw Magnus, she and Druitt were leaving with Fallon. An hour (or that’s what it felt like to him) went by, then Magnus came back. Alone. She was different. Older almost. “You don’t look relieved,” he said, watching her staring at the big monitors in the lab. “We just stopped the world from going to hell in a handbasket.”

“For now,” Helen sighed. “Humans have the uncanny ability to repeat the same mistakes over and over again,” she added sourly.  The added century had tempered her optimistic outlook on life. She had spent it making plans, fixing small events where she could, and worrying about John. The worry inside her grew as she wondered where he was.

“I’m sure Druitt will be back soon,” Will commented, seeing the tension in Magnus. He was guessing the direction her mind had taken.

Helen didn’t react, didn’t turn around. “John is capable of looking after himself,” she replied, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Almost immediately, a feeling came over her, a sense of awareness. It drew her from the lab with Will following behind her. Without needing to know where she was going, she followed the feeling, letting it guide her to her intended destination. The metaphysical pull brought her to the other cathedral where she saw a body lying on the stone floor outside the doors. She knew it was John.

Helen didn’t wait for Will. She crossed the short distance to him, kneeling down next to him. Carefully, she turned him over, putting him on his back, and feeling for his pulse. For one tense, scary moment, she didn’t feel anything. Then relief washed through her when a faint beat registered against the pad of her fingers. Helen exhaled a shaky sigh. She cupped his face, her thumb gently rubbing back and forth. “John…” she called to him softly. He didn’t look like he was breathing, but he had a heartbeat.

“Magnus, I’m going to go find the Big Guy to help get Druitt to the infirmary,” Will said. She looked at him, nodded sharply, and then turned her attention back to injured man on the floor. There was no need to stay, to see if she was going to tell him to bring anything. He headed off, leaving her to tend to the former psycho.

Helen waited until she couldn’t hear Will’s footsteps. From inside the pocket of her black vest, she pulled out a syringe. It had her blood in it. Helen turned his head to the side, exposing the side of his neck, finding the vein. She inserted the needle, pressing the plunger down. “Hang on, John. I’m going to fix you up,” she whispered, leaning down, pressing her brow to his left cheek. This injection would tide him over until she could properly assess his injuries and decide if she needed to use the last two syringes on him.

FIVE DAYS LATER:

Helen couldn’t believe the amount of damage that had been done to John’s body. The scans indicated microfractures on all of his bones, lacerations to his organs, and his right lung had been partially deflated. It was a wonder how he survived at all. Then again, this was John; he knew how to survive. She was thankful for this uncanny ability.

Helen had kept John sedated to let his body heal from her blood flowing through his veins. She had stayed with him as much as she could, sitting next to him, holding his hand, waiting for his body to recover. During the long hours, she would tell him about having to live the century over again. She would tell him about the hard nights where she missed having him with her, missed talking to him.

On the fifth afternoon, Helen was reading Kate’s status update as she helped to relocate the Hollow Earth tribes. Earlier that morning, she had forgone giving him the next dose of a sedative. The worst of the damage had been healed with her blood. She had kept that to herself, injecting him during the night when the Sanctuary slumbered. There wouldn’t be anything that would keep her from mending his broken body.

Helen set aside the tablet on the bedside cart before moving her chair closer to the bed. Looking at John, it had been a long time since she had seen him as vulnerable as he was. She got up to sit on the edge of the infirmary bed, taking his right hand gently between hers, resting it in her lap. “To think, our most recent scare had been whether I was pregnant or not,” Helen muttered, wishing he’d wake up. “Seeing you like this breaks my heart,” she added softly. Adam Worth had tried to do his worst, but ultimately, he was defeated. She had been especially motivated to put Worth in the ground.

Helen knew, sooner or later, she was going to have to leave him and return to the day to day running of the Sanctuary. The tribes from Hollow Earth were mollified for now, but it wouldn’t last long. She had almost let go of his head when she felt his fingers twitch. Her attention went to his face. “John?” There was a tremor of hope in her voice that he was going to wake up any moment. She moved closer, her right hand cupping his left cheek.

Through the blackness of oblivion, John heard Helen’s voice pulling him up, bringing back awareness. Distantly, he was aware of a groan rumbling in his chest. Then came the pain – lesser now. It wasn’t impossible for him to open his eyes, to blink and clear his vision. Slowly, her angelic face swam into view. “Deja vu…” he mumbled, his throat felt raw, his mouth dry.

Helen couldn’t keep her little chuckle muffled, dropping her hand from his face, resting it on his chest. Even after escaping almost certain death, he had the strength to make a joke. “You have got to stop ending up in one of these beds,” she scolded with a soft smile. “How’s your pain?”

“My chest feels as if I had the entirety of Stonehenge placed on it,” John answered in a low voice. During his trek through Hollow Earth, he had found it harder and harder to breathe.

“The x-rays showed that your ribs looked as if you’d gone ten rounds with a very angry gorilla,” Helen replied.

“Note to self, don’t fight King Kong,” John quipped, trying to laugh, but gasped instead.

“Your left lung was partially deflated, you had microfractures on all your bones, and you had…” Helen started ticking off his injuries.

“A concussion,” John interrupted, knowing it was how he hallucinated Helen from the night he proposed to her in 1888.

“No, it was a brain bleed,” Helen informed. She didn’t know how he made it out with all those injuries, but then again, that was John. He was a man who could do the impossible.  “There was too much damage for your body to heal on its own.”

John could hear what she wasn’t saying. “You used your blood on me again,” he said, not sure how he should feel at the moment. It was either her blood or a slow, painful death. “Good thing you did. I’m not ready to die,” he added, looking at her. Each step he’d taken down there had been hard, almost impossible, but he kept at it.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Helen replied, offering him a small smile. His words meant more to her than she would ever be able to accurately express. The last century for him had been marked by madness, depression, disappointment, and terror. During that time, he’d courted his demise many times and somehow always managed to keep from destroying himself – whether with drugs or by other means. Helen got up, leaned over him to press a kiss to his brow. “I’ll come check on you later,” she said lightly.

*~*~*~*~*

John had given it another hour. He was already bored lying in the hospital bed, looking up at the ceiling, his mind turning in circles over nothing and more nothing. The IV he had was in the bend of his left arm where he made quick work of disconnecting it from the line, then carefully pulling the rest of it from his arm. He laid there, nearly panting from the shear exhaustion of that little bit of work. For a moment, he second guessed his choice about getting up.

John stayed where he was, taking stock of his body, feeling the aches and the pains. He felt every second of his one hundred and fifty-three years of life. There were aches in bones he didn’t ever realize he had. His hair even hurt and didn’t think that was possible. Even as he contemplated staying where he was, his mind wasn’t having it. It wanted him to get up, get dressed, and prove he didn’t need rest anymore.

John forced himself to sit up, groaning. His body was protesting loudly. It wasn’t enough to break his mental resolve to get up, to get moving.  Gritting his teeth practically until they cracked, John turned, setting his feet on the stone floor. He planted his hands on the edge of the bed, using it to push himself up. Once he was standing, he swayed, nearly falling back to the bed. He stretched out his right arm, pressing his hand against the wall, steadying himself. There was no way he was going to be able to hobble his way to his room and not fall on his face.

John closed his eyes, concentrating on the unique feeling of his powers. The blast he survived hadn’t cut him off from his abilities. Today he was thankful for that. It had been some time since he needed to think about his intended destination. He pictured his room in his mind, bringing every detail clearly to the forefront. When he was ready, he let his abnormal gifts take him where he wanted to go.

When John appeared in the room he’d taken as his in the Sanctuary, his legs gave out. He dropped to the floor, chest pressing against the side of the bed, and his forehead resting on the edge. John was going to need a moment before he tried pulling himself up. A small voice in the back of his mind that suspiciously sounded like Helen whispered, ‘Brilliant, John…’

“Yeah, yeah…” John grumbled, responding to it, even though it made him look like a lunatic. At least he was alone.

*~*~*~*~*~*

It was near to midnight before Helen was able to circle around to the Infirmary to check on John. To her dismay, he wasn’t there. However, she wasn’t shocked. She knew the moment he woke up, he was going to be up and moving even though his body wasn’t ready for it. Fortunately for her, she knew where to check for him next.  She made her way towards his bedroom. Once she was in front of his door, she knocked lightly as she opened it. He was there, on the bed, curled up wearing loose fitting black cotton pants and a white t-shirt.

The one thing that kept Helen from trying to drag him back to the infirmary was all her blood running through his vein, healing him faster than had he been left on his own. She went over to the bed, slipping out of her heels before stretching out next to him. Helen shifted over onto her right side, tucking her right hand up under her chin as she reached out with her left to brush some of his hair out of his face. John looked peaceful in sleep.  And this was sleep rather than drug induced unconsciousness.

Helen hadn’t imagined living through that century again, to come back to John nearly dead at her feet from injuries he sustained helping her to stop Worth. Again.  At least she knew Adam wasn’t going to rise from the dead to torment them. Scooting closer to him, she drew his right arm over her waist as she rested her head on his left arm. She would watch over him until he was ready to wake again. It was hard to see John like this, so weak and recovering. He was always so physically imposing, exuding power and strength with a hint of unrestrained violence. And yet, the last part, before the blood, had been an act. His gentleness with her knew no bounds.

“I can feel you staring,” John mumbled, coming up from the depths of unconsciousness. His fingers curled lightly into the fabric of her shirt.

“You should’ve stayed in the infirmary,” Helen said, softly scolding him.

“Those beds aren’t comfortable,” John groaned, shifting closer. His body was moving easier now. She was all the comfort he needed while his injuries mended.

“It’s easier for me to monitor you if you’re in there,” Helen replied.

“You can monitor me right here,” John shot back.

Helen shook her head. “Always trying to keep me in bed,” she joked, but the air turned sorrowful in a matter of seconds. She studied his face, his eyes still closed, seeing his lip turning down in a frown. He could descend into melancholy faster than anyone she knew.

“Did I ruin your life?” John asked, echoing the question the figment of Helen had asked him. He couldn’t get the question out of his head.

“You’ve done many things to me,” Helen began. “You’ve destroyed my heart, turned my life upside down, scared me, infuriated me, but not once did I think you’ve ruined my life. I had Ashley. She wouldn’t have been the headstrong, brave, bold young woman she was if you hadn’t been her father.”

John rolled over to his back, his eyes closed, emotion gripping his throat. Ashley was the one soul in the world that had bound them together, no matter the conflict between them. Her ghost held them together. It all came back around to their daughter.

Helen could see he was sliding deeper into that blackness. “When you’ve healed and regained your strength, you and I are going home,” she stated, making sure he heard the utter certainty in her voice. There had been time to rectify a few mistakes and write a few wrongs of the past.

John turned his head to the side, looking at her. “Home?” That one word still had the power to stop his heart.

“Yes, home, to London. It never stopped being that for us,” Helen responded with complete confidence.

THE NEXT DAY:

Mid-morning found John on the north tower, having used his powers to move about rather than try to trust his legs to carry him the distance. He was perched on the edge, looking out over the water that lay between Helen’s Sanctuary and the city beyond. This was where she had chosen to raise their daughter, to give her a life free from him and his malicious presence. It had its appeal, he supposed. Nothing could compare to London for him, however.  He was eager to return to the familiar streets, the hustle and bustle of the people, and the sounds that were engrained on his memory.

“I’m going to put a tracker on you if you don’t stay where I put you,” Helen called out, laughing lightly. He was causing her an inordinate amount of worry by teleporting all over her Sanctuary at a moment’s notice.

“I wanted some air, and I wanted to see something other than the stone walls of my bedroom,” John replied easily, turning his head to look at her. She was dressed in a black dress shirt, matching skirt, hose, and black heels. Her hair was swept up into a bun, with riotous whisps framing her face. Sluggishly, he held out his hand to her, hoping she would come to him.

Helen sighed dramatically but gave him a soft smile. She crossed to him, standing just out of reach. “Do I have to tie you to the bed to get you to rest?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him, scolding him with her expression.

“I would be lying if I didn’t say that the prospect of bondage wasn’t the lease bit thrilling, but don’t start something you can’t handle,” John playfully threatened, leaning his head back, resting it against the stone that supported his back.

“Oh, I can handle you,” Helen promised. Taking a few steps closer, she ran the back of her fingers down his cheek softly. “You’d rather convalesce at home, wouldn’t you?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not to say your Sanctuary doesn’t have a restorative air about it,” John answered diplomatically. He would rather be within the walls of his home, in his bed, letting the comfort and peace ease him.

“You were nearly dead six days ago; do you think you have the strength to get us to London?” Helen asked honestly.

“Us? I would be fine on my own. You have obligations to this place, and to…” John started to give her an out, but Helen covered his mouth with her hand.

“If you’re determined to go home, then we’ll go.” Helen wasn’t thrilled with the early departure, but when John wanted to do something, he did it.

John pulled her hand from his mouth, showing her a soft smile. “If you’re with me, then I’ll be doubly motivated to make it safely to London,” he responded. Taking a moment, he prepared himself to stand. The tests she had run on him that morning confirmed his injuries had healed. His bones were still showing a few minute fractures, but they would heal in time.

“I have no doubt,” Helen replied, giving him a little trusting smirk. He wouldn’t gamble with her life. Eventually, she was going to have to admit she trusted his judgment where his power and capabilities were concerned.

John pushed himself up, swaying slightly. “Being mortal is inconvenient,” he grumbled. She stepped in close to him, her hands resting on his waist. Then, leaning in, she pressed her brow to the center of his chest. John rested his hands on her shoulders, placing a kiss to the top of her head. He closed his eyes, envisioning the front entry hall of his row house.

“Your longevity has been restored,” Helen replied with a little chuckle. “It’s your stamina that will take a bit of time to return.”

"Be nice to me,” John playful growled. He concentrated again, then sent a silent prayer out into the universe that he made it safely inside his home in London. Seconds later, his power whisked them away. When he felt solid ground under his feet, John opened his eyes, sighing in relief that he’d made it safely with Helen.

Pulling back, Helen whispered, “I knew you could do it.” She would have liked to have waited for a few more days before coming back to London, however. There was a secret she was keeping from those at the Sanctuary that she couldn’t keep from John.

John looked at Helen, seeing a strange expression cross her face. He brought his hands up, cupping her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks gently. “What is it?” he asked softly.

“Mom! I thought you weren’t going to be back for a few more days?!”

John heard a voice he thought he never would hear again. His hands dropped from Helen’s face, using his left to reach behind him, searching for the wall to keep himself standing. He leaned back against the wall, the bottom dropping out of his stomach. “Is that…?”

“We failed to save our daughter the first time. I wasn’t going to fail again,” Helen stated in a passionate whisper. She reached out to him, placing her hand over his heart. He covered it with his, gripping her for dear life as the world shifted beneath his feet.

John leaned his head back against the wall, a wave of complicated emotions washing through him.  The door at the end of the hall that separated the kitchen from the front of the row house opened, drawing his attention. Ashley stood there – living and breathing as if she had never sacrificed herself for her mother. “Oh, God…” he exhaled, nearly in disbelief. He wondered if his eyes and his sanity were betraying him. “Tell me this is real, Helen, and not my mind playing tricks on me,” he pleaded softly, turning a pained gaze on her.

Ashley moved before she had time to consciously think about it. She used the powers she inherited from her father, and was appearing at his side, her hand on his upper arm. He froze under her touch. “It really is me,” she said, unsure if he would believe her. She spent the last few months trying to catch a glimpse of her illustrious father, putting her skills as a hunter to the test. The man was just as hard to catch being sane as he was when he was a lunatic.

“If I’m still in that damn bed, unconscious, and this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up,” John said softly, his voice trembling. Slowly, he lifted his right hand, touching the tips of his fingers to Ashley’s cheek. She felt real. She felt alive.

“It’s not a dream, dad,” Ashley stated, angling her head, leaning a little further into his touch.

John’s heart about stopped. He gripped Ashley’s chin lightly, seeing the sincerity in her eyes when she called him ‘dad’. That was how she saw him even after all the terrible things he’d done. “I’m going to need a minute,” he whispered, dropping his hand, looking at Helen. Sweetly, he kissed Helen’s brow, and then moved to the stairs.

Ashley moved in close to her mother’s side, watching her father go upstairs. Once they heard a door close, she asked quietly, “Was this too soon?”

“No, your father has the right to know you’re alive,” Helen answered, placing her hand on Ashley’s back, running it up and down her daughter’s back in a soothing gesture. “Undoubtedly, he’s going to remind me of the conversation we had a few days ago about springing things on him.” She chuckled at that. It had been a few days for him, but two lifetimes for her.

“What’re you going to do?” Ashley asked, perplexed by her mother’s ease.

“I’m not going to do anything. You are,” Helen stated. Before her daughter could protest, she continued on. “I’ve mended your father’s body, but you are the one who can finish mending his soul. Both of us were alone in our grief over losing you. Your father turned his rage towards the Cabal, and I pushed him to do it, then blamed him for the blood he spilled. I accused him of only staying, of fighting to bring you back because of ego and pride. You need to see him as the sane man he is, not the killer he was.”

“While I’m doing this, where will you be?” Ashley asked, stepping away, putting her hands on her hips.

“I’ll be at the Sanctuary. My presence will be missed; John’s won’t. I know you want to go with me, but I have to keep you hidden for a little while longer,” Helen explained, knowing this was a source of contention between both of them.

“I know…” Ashley groaned, rolling her eyes. She hadn’t counted on being left alone with her father this soon. At the very least, she thought her mom would stay a bit longer to be a buffer between them.

“Aren’t you the one who said he should spend quality time with you that didn’t involve kidnapping?” Helen asked with a smug smirk.

“You know…I knew that was going to come back and bite me,” Ashley remarked, shaking her head at her mother. She knew they couldn’t stay together. The Sanctuary needed its leader and Helen Magnus still had work to do if she was going to implement her plan to move the network underground.

*~*~*~*~*

John had retreated to an upstairs sitting room where he and James had spent many an evening locked in heated debates – or heated embraces during their younger days. He stared out the window, seeing the sun sink lower and lower over the city that he still called home. His mind was reeling from the fact his daughter was alive. John should’ve known better. Helen wouldn’t have missed her chance to save Ashley.

The sound of distant gunfire drew John’s attention away from the window. He pushed himself up from the chair, leaving the sitting room to go in search of the sound. Down the hall to his right had once been a parlor. Poking his head inside, he saw a TV set up, and THE MUMMY was playing. “Six days and already my house has changed,” John commented, stepping into the room, gaining his daughter’s attention from the couch.

“Yeah, about that…” Ashley started to explain, but he waved off her words, coming around the plush leather sofa. She started to reach for the remote to turn it off when he sat down, his eyes on the screen. “You watch movies?” she asked, a little dumbfounded by that. It seemed a little too low brow for a man known to frequent the theatre.

“A few months ago, your mother and I watched this together,” John said, watching the end of the gun fight on the river barge. Both sides stopped shooting when the flames grew too substantial, and self-preservation won out. “It was her way of helping me get to know you better. She said this was your favorite film.”

“Did you like it?” Ashley asked. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of thing, honestly.”

“Honestly, it’s not. Your mother and I were known to frequent the theatre for our entertainment. This was not the sort of activity I thought I would be able to sit through,” John answered earnestly. “I was pleasantly surprised by how well I enjoyed the film.”

“It is good, isn’t it?” Ashley asked, smirking in satisfaction. She glanced at her father, seeing the grin on his face. He agreed with her. They settled down to watch the rest of the movie – and she threw him more than a few annoyed glances when he started making sarcastic comments.

TBC....

Chapter Text

Over the course of the next few weeks, Helen and John had reverted back to their phone conversations, but with the added twist of their daughter adding her colorful comments in the background. It warmed her heart to know they were getting along in a way she hadn’t imagined. Pulling out her phone, she called John, having a few minutes to herself before she and Will had to leave. The line rang a couple of times before connecting. “Where are you?” she asked with a smile.

“Ashley, what did I say?”

“Don’t bite the bartender.”

“Manners, my dear, matter.”  

“But I’m hungry…”  

“We’ll find you someone better to eat later.”

“She better not be feeding on anyone,” Helen stated harshly, mindful to keep her voice down.

“Can we find a Scandinavian guy for me to feed on this time?”

Helen growled making John laugh that dark rumbling laugh that conveyed his amusement. In the background, she heard a door open and then close. “Montague John Druitt, so help me God if you are allowing our…”

“Helen…. It’s only an act. Do you think I’m that irresponsible with our daughter’s impulse control? Besides, I already know she doesn’t crave blood like a vampire. The amount of coffee she consumes is a bit worrying though.”

“It’s like Nikola and his wine,” Helen replied keeping a bit of a bite to her words. “Why, might I ask, are you tormenting some poor human?”

“He has some information MI6 wants. I’ve been politely asked to obtain it. Ashley was going stir crazy at the house, so, I brought her along.”

“If you want to get quick answers, dangle him from the top of Big Ben,” Helen responded, in a lighter tone this time. There weren’t any cameras there to capture Ashley’s image. In the background there was a crash.

“He better be alive when I get back in there!”

“He tripped.”

“You pushed him, you mean.”

“No!”

It was bad of her, but Helen couldn’t help but smile at the byplay between father and daughter. Before she knew it, she was chuckling at them. “I wish I was there with you two,” she whispered.   

“We’ll be together soon, darling. If you need to get away, you have only to ask.”

“Tempting, but I have business to attend to. I will have to deal with you later over this outing you have her on,” Helen playfully threatened.

“Are you going to threaten to tie me to the bed again?”  

“Gross!”  

“Then stop listening to what your mother and I talk about.”

“Not likely to happen with my hearing.”

“I suggest cotton balls.”

Helen laughed out loud this time. “Listening to the pair of you does my heart good.”

“Glad we could be of service.”

Helen smirked. “If you really wanted to be of service, you should come here and kiss me,” she taunted.

“Well, perhaps if you’re good, and you get all your work done, I’ll come visit you at bedtime.”

“Eww!”

“How do you think you got here?”

“Fairy dust and a wish!”

“Your grasp of biology troubles me!”

Helen busted out laughing. “Now I really wish I was there,” she lamented, issuing a sigh. Movement at the office door drew her attention. Will was there, waiting for her. “Unfortunately, I have to go.” Then, before she stopped herself, she whispered, “I love you.”

“I thought I’d have to wait a bit longer before you said that.”

“I couldn’t keep it from you any longer,” Helen responded, getting up, taking the strap of her briefcase in hand, settling it on her shoulder as she walked out of her office.

“You know this already, I love you, darling.”

The line went dead. Helen smiled, putting her cell in her pocket. She and Will walked down the stairs, heading for the front door where the car was waiting for them.

“Everything okay with Druitt?” Will asked.

“Perfectly fine,” Helen answered with a smile. She had her family, and soon she would be with them. No matter what life was going to through at her, she held tight to John’s promise that they would be together soon.

THE END