Reminiscing, a sanctuary fanfic

Every now and then, Helen walks the halls of her house. No direction, no destination, no purpose other than to walk; to walk, to remember, to relive, to cherish events in the past. To allow herself to feel, as she so rarely does. She'll travel the halls with half seeing eyes, following her train of thought more intently than her path.

The Sanctuary always feels different whenever Helen remembers. The walls vibrate, shimmer, hum. As if her house laughs when she smiles, and cries when she sobs. Almost as if the building is remembering with her, following her memories as she follows its halls. As if joining in, sharing the joy and the pain of Helen's memories while warning others to stay away.

And the rest of the household listens, and heeds those warning. No one dares to disturb her when she remembers, with either their words or physical presence. No one comes near and no one calls. They know that if they need her she'll come running; later, not now.

Because now is about her and her memories.

Helen stared out her office window, over the river, and remembered why she chose this building as her new Head of Operations base. She remembered what had drawn her here, to this particular building and town from thousands of choices around the globe.

She'd grown weary of the turmoil and tribulations of England, she'd outgrown her home. The business deal with parliament and the thinly veiled servitude she had found herself in was unbearable. She was a scientist, a doctor and a researcher. She was not a damage control expert parliament had signed on as a member of staff, nor a collection agency for the lost, or for those the King deemed unwanted.

She'd grown frustrated by the restrictions parliament had put on both her and James' research in the name of 'the Greater Good' so they could 'better serve their King and Country.' She'd grown tired of being at the beck and call of those considered more powerful because of social standings rather than intellect or usefulness. She was fed up with answering to those who's grasp of the universe was so far beneath her own.

So she left James in charge of her Father's Sanctuary, and traveled to all of the most significant areas of Abnormal activity throughout the world. Mumbai, Tokyo and Moscow were all strong candidates, but none pulled at her heart and told her to stay. Until she'd breezed through Old City.

She'd been somewhere in North America, now only vaguely using directions to get from point A to nowhere in particular, when she saw her new home. A giant gothic building particularly dilapidated and obviously abandoned. What most people would have seen as unwelcoming and forbidding, Helen saw as untapped potential. It was certainly big enough for the practical aspects of her research, and once she'd seen the interior she'd been assured it would provide a level of protection and privacy she needed.

But what had solidified that building as Helen's Sanctuary was the river view. Everything else about her choice has been practical, save that.

And as she stared out the window, she only half listened to Will drone on about another psychology conference he was going to miss or something like that. She smiled as the memories washed through her as she took in the view, and the walls began to hum. And Will, being as intelligent as he was, heeded the warning and left the room mid-point.

Helen cast one final look at the river and turned her back to the window to find her office empty. She hadn't realised she was alone again; just as she'd barely realised she had company when Will was still there.

She walked towards her desk, and stopped herself half-way. She knew it was pointless to attempt anything useful; her mind was preoccupied. She knew she was reminiscing and she knew she needed it. So instead of fighting herself as she normally did, she let herself think.

She walked over to the fireplace, gazing at various possessions around the room along the way. She ran a finger along the patterning of the mantel piece as she allowed the photographs above the fire to help her remember; they held her attention more than the relics and specimens that littered her office.

She picked up a photograph, one of James, herself and Elizabeth, and a small smile started to form. The photo was taken in front of the London Sanctuary, just prior to Lizzy's coronation. Helen giggle softly as she remembered the Queen-to-be's face when she learnt of the Sanctuary network and the existence of Abnormals. Her face had lit up like she'd actually found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. "I believe 'priceless' is the word I'm looking for," Helen mused out aloud.

She placed the frame back to its original position, and shifted her gaze to the next frame. It was of her and Allison smiling at their own inside joke, in front of a partially constructed New Delhi Sanctuary. Helen remembered the first time they met. She'd already known what a remarkable thinker Doctor Grant was; she'd followed her work extensively. But what she wasn't prepared for was how beautiful Allison was, how alluring a woman she was. Helen hired her to run the New Delhi Sanctuary because she was convinced by her intellect, reassured by her dedication and her philosophy. Helen took her as a lover because she was captivated by her presence and almost intoxicated by being. Doctor Grant had been a phenomenal woman, and it broke her heart to know she was gone as Helen thought about the events in the Hindu Kush.

Tears gathered in remembrance of her lover and friend, but she refused to let them fall. Instead she took a step over, and cracked a watery smile as Albert stared back at her.

"Strange, wonderful, brilliant man," She had nothing but affection for the man in the photo; but he, like so many other people she'd cared about over the years, was gone.

Wrapped up inside her own thoughts, Helen hugged herself for comfort and walked away from the fire and out of the room.

The Sanctuary hummed as she walked the halls of her home in a mixture of smiles and tears. Every item in the Sanctuary had a story behind it, a memory of a time or person in her past that deserved to be remembered. A painting by an artist in Bordeaux painted over a century ago, a vase from Azerbaijan a past lover gave her, a relic her father brought back from one of his expeditions. Every item had a story and a set of memories to go with it. And for the rest of that day she walked the halls of her home, her arms wrapped around her torso for comfort, reliving her past.

She walked through the labs, the catacombs, the infirmary. Each room held reminders of times gone by, whether they be heartbreaking or happy. Each floor evoked a different reaction; laughter or tears, sometimes both. Helen just walked and remembered and felt; cherishing the breaking down of her walls. Just for now she was allowed to feel, unashamedly and unapologetically feel instead of holding up a mask of professionalism to convince the world.

She walked through the innards of the Sanctuary; through the kitchen and the living habitats, the offices and the now empty wings. She passed by Ashley's room and Henry's room, and remembered when they first chosen their rooms decades ago. She walked up to the north tower and sat, and watched the sun hang lower and lower in the sky. She remembered the lovers she's brought up here, the lovers she'd shared sunsets with. And using those last traces of light, walked back down to the main door to head outside.

As she walked outside she strolled through the gardens. She passed by the tree she had planted the day she had officially began operations at her new Sanctuary, a memorial to the beginning of the Global Sanctuary network.

She kept walking and smiled as memories of Ashley's first steps jumped to mind, remembering the picnic they'd been having at the time. There had been a rather curious pidgeon overlooking their lunch from a few feet away from the blanket, and the Big Guy was about to shoo it away when Ashley had just picked herself up and walked towards it. Of course she feel over after a few shaky strides and the pigeon had flown away, but Helen's heart almost burst with pride at the time.

She walked inside with a smile on her lips and headed to her bedroom. She was exhausted, emotionally drained and she needed sleep. She shut the door behind her, stripped and bypassed a photo of her Father and Ashley taken not even a month ago and a dimple appeared in the corner of her mouth. Helen curled under the blankets, and felt the Sanctuary exhale around her as she drifted out of consciousness.

Having more history under her belt was both a blessing and a curse, but tonight Helen believed it was a blessing.