Summary: Helen is in the dilapidated church section of her Sanctuary thinking about Ashley where John finds her.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary or the song IF I DIE YOUNG

Rating: K

Pairing: Helen and John.

ONE YEAR:

Helen stood in the run down church of her Sanctuary looking at the space where the casket for Ashley had been. The sun cut across the dusty stones in rays. Standing here again, her heart broke into a thousand pieces all over again. Her child, her only reason for being was gone. Even if Helen lived a thousand year she would never believe that Ashley was dead. It was far beyond what her rational mind wanted to believe. To her, Ashley, was only lost and not dead.

If I die young bury me in satin

Lay me down in a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

She had heard those words as she walked down a hall. Those words hadn't hit her until now, until she was standing here. Now the tears were falling silently. It was one year to the day and that year had been pure hell for Helen Magnus. She did as she thought the others would have wanted from her; Helen grieved and she was still grieving. For the others, her colleagues she hid her pain, hid the terrible ache in her soul that screamed for her to leave this home she had with Ashley and move somewhere else. For a horrendous second Helen had actually considered moving, leaving this place and going to another country to live.

"Helen?" John whispered her name. He had been watching her for the last hour just standing staring at nothing. Though, he knew what had once been in the space she was staring at. It had held the empty casket for his daughter; the daughter he had failed. John had told Helen that he didn't regret not being around when Ashley was a child; that was a lie. It was to keep her angry at him, at the Cabal. Helen's anger was the only thing she had had that was keeping her going. Getting her angry at him was simpler than it used to be. 'Too simple' John lamented. He had once been human with a bright future, a future with Helen. Then that night had changed everything. Ashley had paid the price for their curiosity.

Helen wiped away her tears at the gentle tone of John's voice. It was gentler than she would have expected from him lately. When he spoke he always had the edge of restrained violence to him, but not now. Now he sounded almost like his old self. It was confusing her. John was being around, being helpful, and Helen was waiting for the other shoe to drop. She was waiting for John to start killing again and it would give her a reason to hate him. Helen just wished he would make it easy again. All of his trying had her mind running in circles. "What do you want?" she tried not to snap, but her control was thin and ravaged by pain.

John shut down his emotion's, made his tone flat. She was hurting; he could feel it. "You've been in here for an hour. I was concerned." At his sides John clenched his fists. The urge to go to her, to try and offer her the shelter of his arms was too strong. 'Let me know what I can do!' His mind screamed. Here in front of him his love for all eternity was suffering and he didn't know what he could do for her. John stuffed his hands in his pockets; the fingers of his right hand coming into contact with the locket she had given him.

"I didn't ask for your concern," Helen replied; her voice a harsh whisper. It seemed wrong to shout in the dilapidated house of God.

John took two steps closer to her, "That's the thing about concern, you don't have to ask."

She couldn't handle him nice, couldn't handle him on her side. John always toed the line. Yes, he helped her, but it always came with him having an ulterior motive. Hating him was easy. Loving him hurt too much. Everything involving John hurt way too much. "I don't have time for this." Helen made to move past him. John grasped her upped arm.

"You're not the only one still hurting over this." He motioned with his head to the empty space. His daughters casket had been there for months. Now the casket was housed in the catacombs. John had been there last night just sitting until the sun rose. Tonight, more than likely, he would be there again. This time a bottle of wine would be involved. Unlike Tesla he could get well and truly smashed. Tonight he would want to be in a mindless drunk abyss; alone.

"Don't pretend to care John." Helen snarled. "I know you…"

"I lied…" John sighed and released her arm. He always lied to Helen. "I wanted you angry at the time. It seemed to be the only emotion keeping you together." He stepped away choosing to sit down to stare at the same empty space Helen had been. Idly he fiddled with his left ring finger. If things had worked out the way he had planned, then gracing his finger would have been a wedding band. Fate was cruel to them and it was still being cruel. It had taken its anger at them out on their daughter; their only child.

Helen read the pain in his body. He was grieving as she was. How could she have missed it? Easy, she was too busy hating him and hating the Cabal. She missed it because it was all about her pain. All the anger fled her body. Helen dropped gracefully down next to John and took his hand. He gripped her like a drowning man. "I'm sorry I kept her away from you." As a young girl Ashley had asked about her father. Helen had chosen to lie. Telling her daughter about the man she had loved so much had hurt. Again, it was all about Helen's pain.

John clutched at her hand, "I didn't give you a choice. It's my fault our life turned out this way." For well over a century Helen had been blaming him. It made sense to keep to that line of blame. He's lived with it so long the admission just rolled off his tongue.

"No," Helen shook her head, "I've been blaming you for far too long. I'm just as responsible for what you've done as you are. Because of my experiment, you became the killer." She looked at him, "I have regretted it everyday." More tears formed and threatened to fall. This time if she cried she would cry for them.

"One year to the day…" John kept staring at the empty patch of stones. He couldn't look at Helen knowing she had tears in her eyes. What little of him that was left would be crushed beyond repair.

"Yes, John, one year…" Helen echoed back. She gazed at John for a few more seconds. His face was as unreadable as stone. Turning her head so to gazed at the space vacant of the casket. The tears came again just as silently as before. This time she cried not only for Ashley, but for the life she would never know with John. She could still weep for the life they were denied together.