Water to the Sea

by Aromene

Helen Magnus had never planned on marrying.

Dislaimer: Owned by people who are not me, which is a good thing because they do it so much better than I do.

AN: I have concluded that almost everyone that writes for this fandom, or at least for The Five, has their own version of the history. I think this is okay, because none of them, including canon, line up with actual history. It's sort of refreshing to play in a fandom that contradicts itself.

Helen Magnus had never planned on marrying. After her mother's untimely death, Helen had lacked what society called 'a proper female influence'. It was commonly believed that her father, who had ever indulged her passion even while his wife Patricia was alive, gave in to them completely after her death. As a child, Helen had found her interest in the sciences, a subject matter not considered suitable for a proper lady.

It was unsurprising that, some scant years later, Helen would be the one to pressure her father into revealing the secrets of his work to her. She was a young woman, of marriageable age, a kind demeanour – though terribly outspoken – and no interest whatsoever in anything suitable. But after the initial shock of discover had worn off – a matter of mere moments – Helen's intellect had become integral to Gregory's work. She had needed no guiding in her pursuits, or help to find the right path. Gregory was content to let her work as she willed as she pushed the boundaries of science further still.

It was unsurprising that Helen announced, in the Spring of 1882, that she would be attending Oxford in the Autumn. There was no allowance for females amongst the student population of the university, but there were a handful of young women from families with too much money and not enough sense that were permitted to audit classes. For most, this meant subjects such as the Classics or languages. Helen would be the first women to attend for the sciences.

Helen arrived in Oxford in the Autumn of that year to the bedsit her father had found for her. It was a house run by an older woman – a self-declared spinster herself – and for the use of the wives of students or professors who were members of the Oxford populace. Helen's presence threw something of a wrench in the workings of the household and the gentle constitutions of the ladies therein housed, but Helen was not overly bothered by their whispered conversations or the looks they threw her direction. She was there to study at Oxford and determined to use the time given to her to make something of herself and continue the teachings of her father.

Helen met James in the winter of 1883. He was a quiet man, too young to be a recent addition to the university's staff, but yet too old to be a recent student either. She was not at all surprised to find that he already had his doctorate in medicine and was simply pursuing others avenues of research at the best university in the country. He was well-spoken and well educated and Helen was taken to him almost immediately. For his part, James Watson was not at all put out by a woman in his classes. He found her manner pleasing and her intellect a match for his own, as the other students' were not. Though there was no interest on behalf of either party for anything other than a casual friendship, they were a great help to each other in class as well as out. More often as not the two could be found in the library of an evening, in full view of the library's staff and sitting across the table from each other, engrossed in this book or that; this question or that answer.

They passed a pleasant winter together until the unexpected arrival of the foreigner, Nikola Tesla, into the science department. James met the man first, as they shared a floor in the graduate wing of Exeter College. He was not at all taken with the Serb, at first, though there was no doubt as to the man's intellect. In his own country Tesla was already a man few others in the academics could touch. He had the air of ego around him, which impressed Helen none at all, but Nikola was nothing if not complimentary to her, apparently much less affronted by her sex than most other students.

It was some months before they could stand to work in the same lab space, an area on the almost abandoned top floor of Christchurch that James had commandeered for his use – though no one at the College likely had the faintest idea of what that use was. He was well liked by his professors and considered an older and responsible student. As such he had nearly full access to most of the university's services, for whatever purposes. The lab space meant an area where they could work alone and unwatched and 'test the bounds of science' as Helen would say with a smile.

It was in the Autumn of 1884 that they met John and Nigel. Montague John Druitt was a new addition to the university. In a league entirely different from theirs, he was still an intelligent student who preferred to listen rather than question. He and Nigel were both mathematics students and had – the others learned later – gotten off on rather a bad footing with each other rather early on. Very little happened in Oxford without the vast majority of the school hearing about it. Though the Colleges were spread out and the departments segregated, the rumour mill – such as it was – could spread news faster than anything else at the time. And the students, despite their better training, had rather a passion for the subject. As such, the disagreements in the maths department at Christchurch would have soon reached the university at large, but as Helen, James and Nikola spent most of their time there, it reached them sooner than most. The three were introduced to John and Nigel on the afternoon of a rather headed argument in the quad and in open view of everyone, including their lab's window.

Helen had found the exchange childish and uninteresting, but Nikola kept more than half an ear out to the developments in maths, his interest lying primarily there and in physics, and he had already heard more than one conversation amongst the staff of the new trouble makers that had recently taken up residence.

James found it amusing, which only disgusted Helen more. It was unsurprising when the two debaters were invited round to the lab the next day, though Helen was never entirely certain whether it was James or Nikola who was responsible for the invite. In any case, a scant half hour with the two gentlemen drastically changed Helen's view of their behaviour. She found both to be suitably intelligent, though Nigel was the better spoken of the two despite his heritage. Indeed, within the first few minutes he had already corrected one of James' equations written on the board to one side of the room. James was both impressed and put out by the correction, but Helen decided that perhaps more assistance in their work would not go amiss and there was no reason to think that the two men would not be of use.

They proved of use indeed. Within months the five of them had surpassed the previous year's work and had delved even deeper into areas that had held Helen's interest since her days working in her father's shadow. She wrote to him almost constantly, about this question or this subject matter. Gregory wrote back when and where he could, though he was often travelling in those days about his work and the time between letters could be upwards of a month or two. He never came to visit, believing perhaps that he would be an intrusion or – as Helen more suspected – he simply did not have the time for her as he once had. But their work progressed suitably without him.

It was the winter of 1885 when Helen began a project of her own. At first, not even James was aware of it, as she more than believed it would end in failure and preferred to suffer through such on her own. The Abnormal species sanguine vampiris was not unknown to her. During the time she had worked with her father, she had come upon the species referenced many times in his books and writings. Gregory had not much detail on the race, beyond that they were believed to be extinct. He was not altogether convinced of this fact, Helen could tell, and admitted to attempting on more than one occasion to find some trace of them still living somewhere in the world. Helen had no notion that he had ever found anything, but she had never quite been able to let the matter go. They were almost the epitome of the Abnormals. The knowledge that could be gained by studying them or even a sample of blood might even go so far as to cure disease or advance the human race. It was not a matter she could simply let go.

Helen knew better than to ask for Gregory's assistance in the matter. He had ever cautioned her in her research that there were some lines that were not meant to be crossed and would only lead to suffering, instead of victory. Helen had pushed the bounds as far as she could under his guidance and at Oxford was able to push them still further. But the thought of what one might do with even a vial of vampire blood was a thought that kept her up many nights in the quiet of the bedsit in which she still lived.

It had not taken nearly so long as Helen might have supposed to follow her assumption. Clearly, Gregory had known more than a little about the not quite extinct race of vampires hidden away. Though it came at a great cost, Helen was able to track down through means that no lady of any standing in England would ever hope to even know about, a small sample of blood. It was not much; barely enough to make a proper study of, but it was still such a magnificent find.

The others had not necessarily agreed. James was intrigued, but cautious as he was in all things. Nigel was mostly indifferent on the subject and quiet willing to go along with whatever the others decided. He had been a large help in their work, but had never been the one to draw them on seeking the answers hidden behind the veil of mystery that was science. Nikola was entirely on Helen's side, which was unsurprising. She had long known that where she was concerned Nikola has never thought entirely clearly.

It was John who most surprised her. Helen had known for some time that he thought perhaps more of her than was strictly proper for a gentleman to a lady he was not courting, but Helen had let it go. John was kind and helpful and she made very certain that they were never left entirely alone. Still, the core of her being that was made up of her independence had begun to wonder on more than one occasion if, perchance, it was not too late to try that other adventure in life. John was not at all interested in experiments on vampire blood and made his thoughts more than clear. They border finely on forbidding her to continue, which only incites her fury further. It takes three days and James no inconsiderable negotiating talents before John can finally be brought around to the idea, with the provision that they will be experimenting only with theories and nothing living.

They were cautious, as Helen knew they must be. The five of them had always remained secretive in their independent studies, but now they are more so. It was obvious that their very attempt to remain secretive leads, in fact, to others supposing they are up to something of note. Nigel is questioned on more than one occasion by his professors, as he is probably considered the easiest target and the most likely to rat them out, but Nigel is actually the least likely. It is John they are all concerned with, but as the months pass and the experiments continue, no evidence is found my the lecturers at Oxford that might lead to their expulsion or at least the loss of the lab space.

In the Autumn, another problem arises. This one has a very specific name. Adam Worth is not a new student at the university, but he has been quiet and unassuming since his arrival and only James knows him by name. He is not a resident at either Exeter or Christchurch, but one of the smaller colleges with less note and it is some time before the others are even aware of his existence, much less how meddlesome he might become. None of them are amused by his fervent questions or the fact that he is always shadowing them at the Bodleian or in class. Helen finds it endearing that he is so driven and an annoyance that he may interrupt their plans at any time.

It is October when he finally barges into the lab one day during a very delicate experiment and the others, even if not Helen, decide that this must be done with. How it is left to Helen to deliver the news, she is never quite certain except that perhaps it will sound softer coming from a woman. She glares at John for this pronouncement and departs in search of Adam. He has not wandered far and she is less shocked than she should be to find him defacing the outer wall of the quad. She is, however, horrified to catch a glimpse of the formula he is working on. Though toxins are not her area, in that James is the master, she has enough of an understanding to know that this is one. If she was not certain of the correctness of the group's decision before she left the lab, she is certain now.

But she cannot help to wonder if perhaps they haven't made a rather large fumble in their decision none the less. Adam is quiet for the next few months and sometime over the winter he vanishes completely from the university, though no one is certain as to where he has gone. He is no longer registered as a student when spring arrives and in any case, 'The Five' as they have taken to calling themselves as a joke, have other things on their mind.

It is, of course, Helen's idea to make a serum from the blood that might be injected. Again she comes up against a stone wall with most of the others, but none of them truly believe there is much harm in experiments on rats and such, which John is not even fond of. Sadly, at first, many of the subjects die and even Helen begins to seriously consider the merit of what they have undertaken and even more the wisdom of the thoughts that flit about in the back of her mind while she works. But the serum progresses and by the spring of 1886 the rats are not only living, but many seem to be thriving.

Helen hears from her father that season, for the first time all winter, to discover he has been in South America for the season and made many important discoveries. Helen is pleased for him, but her other thoughts must flow onto the paper as she writes him back, because after a carefully worded response her father appears in Oxford one evening demanding to know what she is working on. Helen manipulates the truth so far as she may, but Gregory is in no way an unobservant man and he has raised her well. Helen is only surprised to be left with the blood sample at the end of it, with strict promises that she will not pursue her desire to use it on anything other than sewer rats.

It is the first time Helen ever lies to her father.

In May she perfects a serum that she is entirely positive will cause no more harm to her than it did to the rats, which survived, at least. She and James argue about it for days and John won't even talk to her when he discovers her next experiment she intends to be herself. Nikola goes so far as to even offer himself as the first subject, a fact which cements her belief that he has long held feelings for her which she will never reciprocate. It takes all of Helen Magnus' knowledge, wisdom and determination to bring them around to her way of thinking, but they have ever been four men following one woman's hidden passion and in the end they bow to her as she knows they will. Nikola still argues until the day of the experiment that he will go first and even as he sits at her side with the needle in hand Helen knows that even the slightest hesitation on her part will result in him injecting himself. But this experiment is hers and hers alone and she will let no other potentially suffer for her failings.

After the initial feeling of ice coursing through her veins subsides, she must admit that there is no noticeable change. A few days later a sample of her blood under a microscope shows no change. Even a month later the only noticeable difference is that, perhaps, her white cells have increased in number. The others sigh noticeably in relief when James makes this declaration. Nikola is the next in line and then the others after him and although his reaction is similar, at first, over the coming weeks the changes are more noticeable. His very nature – always bordering on confrontational – becomes worse until the night James appears at the door of the bedsit demanding to see her. He has never dared to approach the house in anything other than the full light of day and never in any way that might be considered inappropriate. The old woman that runs the house is roused from bed in the dark, followed by Helen and after a hushed conversation between her and James, Helen throws on the first dress she can lay hands on and rushes from the house in the rain, James at her side. The consequences of this action will resound the next day, no doubt, but Helen is too concerned to care.

Nikola is in a wretched state when James sneaks her back into the hallways of Exeter and to his room. He is shaking and feverish and a hurried look at a blood sample through the microscope James keeps in his own rooms shows that his very blood has changed. In fact, it looks remarkably the same as that of the vampire blood still hidden in the lab. Helen and James remain with Nikola the rest of the night and by morning he seems improved, if not recovered. James himself has noticed no obvious change in his own physical state, for which Helen is thankful.

In the morning the group gathers in the lab once more to run what tests they can with the equipment they have. Nigel's blood also shows changes that were not there the week before and John finally admits to feeling unwell. For the first time in her life Helen feels something bordering on the edge of stark terror over what she has done. In the last experiments none of the rats showed reactions such as these, though their blood work was changed.

The next weeks bring no relief. Nikola gets worse before he gets better, though the nights are the worst and James takes to sitting with him most of the time, though there is little he can do. As such, it is from James she first hears of Nikola's strangest behaviour. Two weeks later he attacks James one night as the man is all but asleep and in the morning a careful examination finds two small punctures in James' neck and no memory of it in Nikola's mind. The same morning Nigel appears in the lab to announce that he might have some news of interest all his own, and then, in front of four shocked faces he disappears into thin air, his clothing finding the floor. He reappears only a moment later, fully nude and Helen is so enticed by what it all means that she forgets entirely to be horrified that he is standing in front of her without clothing. James hurries to bundle the man's coat over him and Nigel blushes and slinks off into the corner behind a bookcase to redress.

There is much discussion after this. James has still noticed only little things. He admits that a problem with had been stumping him for some months finally made sense to him the week before and that his ability to read – which has always been fast – has reached a record speed. Nikola congratulates them all in his characteristic sarcasm and proceeds to faint dead away on the floor.

When they rouse him several minutes later he awakens in an instant, teeth elongated, nails in sharp points many inches too long, his eyes gone black as a monster's and the question of what happened to James' neck is answered. Nikola is more horrified by it all then Helen might have thought and insists on being tied up each night before bed for the next month, until James grows tired of it and simply refuses. He cautions that Nikola will have to learn to adapt to what he has become sooner or later and it might as well be sooner. Nikola feels no compulsion for blood and is still enjoying food and wine as much as he ever did, though the wine certainly affects him less now. Helen is still horrified at her part in all of it, but is more relieved that she can say that although it is clear from Nikola's blood that he has taken on all the characteristics genetically of a vampire, the blood thirsty desire seems to be lacking. And very soon, it is John she is more concerned with.

John, who appears in her room one night out of thin air, but not as Nigel does. In a flash of light, he is there with her as he has only been once before and then in broad daylight with James at his side and the landlady watching on for propriety's sake. Helen is unable to ask what is going on before he has grabbed her hand and whiskered her away and then they are standing in the warm summer air on a hill outside the town, a place they have come before on picnics, but never alone.

'John, whatever –' she starts, but he has leaned down before she can pull away and he cuts her off with a kiss that leaves her breathless. John has never kissed her before; never done more than hold her hand, but she realises that she has longed for this.

'I wanted to be certain, before I showed you. Isn't it wonderful Helen? I may go wherever I please! It seems, so long as I have been there before. I may only travel with a destination in mind. But think of the places we could visit, Helen!'

He is remarkably excited for a man that has just shown her he can travel through the spaces of the world in the blink of an eye. There was no prior knowledge of this gift, but considering at what cost Nikola now lives, perhaps this is just as exciting as John considers it to be.

He returns her directly to her room, with no one the wiser and vanishes with a smile on his face that promises more. He is still the proper gentleman, but his new discovery allows them more freedom then they would otherwise have had as a courting couple. The others seem almost relieved to learn of this new development, both the appearance of John's ability and the relationship that arrives hard on its heels. Helen is caught in the middle of a whirlwind of travel and romance. John has been to a good many places around Britain and even one memorable spring spent in France. He takes her to every place he has ever been and then back again once more, wishing it were further.

It is Christmas that year when he surprises her quite suddenly. He appears in her room early one morning, three days before the holiday, and insists she pack clothing suitable for a warmer climate and be ready to leave immediately. Helen, unsure what he is proposing or rather how, does as he asks because she has learned to love the smile he sends her whenever she chooses to follow along with his plans. In a whirl of light they are standing on the bluffs above a turquoise sea and the air is a good deal warmer than the cold dampness of Oxford in wintertime.

'Where are we, John?' she asks.

He turns her around to see the rolling hills behind her; the farmland and tiny villas and the larger village in the distance, the architecture clearly Mediterranean.

'I promised to take you to Italy, did I not?' he inquires of her and Helen is so surprised at how he has accomplished this that she forgets anything else except kissing him. She expects a proposal that weekend, but none is forthcoming and when they return to the rainy cold of Oxford the following week, she finds that she does not at all mind. She is thirty-six and long passed an age where propriety matters. If she does not marry John, there is unlikely to ever be another and she is already now old enough that children hardly matter to her, though in the back of her mind the continued perfection in her cells suggests that her age in years is less important now.

John is the last to show any symptoms, but a few months later he takes ill, which in itself is unusual. Helen spends a night away from the bedsit to tend to him, but he is worse in the morning and no amount of tests or discussion between her and James reveals a reason as to why. It is days before there is any notion in the blood that something is wrong and Helen soon realises that John's very cells seem to by dying, as if he is aging rapidly. They try what they might, but John continues to worsen and Helen becomes beside herself. She writes in terror to her father, divulging her broken promise and the trouble they have.

Gregory does not condemn her when he appears in Oxford three days later. He reads the notes she and James have kept and examines John himself, but cannot give a better explanation. Helen is beside herself with worry, though John – in his moments of lucidity – continues to tell her it is not her fault; that he chose this as the others did. Gregory remains in Oxford for three days before he takes Helen to the side and explains that there is nothing he can do; no sudden theory that would help. He does not suggest that she has brought this on herself, though the idea hangs between them as they talk. Helen is more than upset; certain her father was their last hope and now that too is gone. Before he leaves, Gregory asks for what is left of the sample of vampire blood. At any other time, his daughter might have argued greatly with him on the subject and the usurpation of research, but Helen is distraught enough that she leads him to the lab in Christchurch and gives up the blood without any word against.

'It will be safest, I think, to ensure this does not fall into the wrong hands. We have seen now what it is capable of.' He softens his look towards her. 'I am sorry for it, Helen.' She is left standing there in the empty lab wherein all of this had started, bereft of seemingly everything she holds dear.

It is James who makes the suggestion. All of the tests Helen has been able to run on her own body suggest that the only consequence of the injection she took has been that her cells are able to reproduce at an alarming rate; so quickly, in fact, that they maintain a constant rate, replacing dying cells with good ones. There has been much advancement in transfusions over the decade; James himself has done a great deal of work on the subject. He suggests that her own blood, distilled down to its purest form, may be of help to John. At the least, he does not believe it will cause any harm. Helen is just desperate enough to make the attempt.

And it does seem to help. Within days John is more alert than he has been in weeks and not long after the fever that has plagued him finally breaks. The test show that his own cells have normalised and soon there is no evidence of the destruction the vampire blood has caused. John is relieved; James is even more so and Helen is beside herself in joy.

It takes a few more weeks before John has regained his strength, but once he can manage well enough again he invites her out to the opera. The night is pleasant for early spring and the undertaking is so very proper that Helen spends the night more amused than attentive. When John helps her into the carriage at the end of the evening she finds that she is entirely at peace with herself and with the relationship that has continued, even despite John's illness. She is not at all surprised to discover that this night has been a thank you on his behalf; mere pence in payment compared with saving his life. She is more surprised by the ring; it is a beautiful band and much greater than she thought John able to afford, considering his work has been scattered at best during their years at Oxford. Still, he has finally asked her and she is more than willing to accept. To think, all those years she spent believing she would never marry!

In the months that follow, Helen is left to organise a meagre wedding, not due so much to the lack of funds as the lack of guests. Her father seems pleased to hear of the engagement, though he is less than pleased to hear of the reason behind why the proposed groom is suddenly recovered. Gregory relents to attending the event, small though it will be and with a location yet to be chosen. He is all the family Helen really has left and she is more than grateful that – even if he has not forgiven her for the experiments with the blood or lying to him about such – he will be there.

In the summer Helen officially informs the university that she will be leaving. John has not been a registered student there since the previous Autumn and since she has never actually been registered, the announcement is for politeness' sake. Helen knows that Oxford will not be sorry to see her go. They haven't seen much of Nigel for some months, literally and figuratively. With Helen's departure, 'The Five' slowly dissolve away, much as they formed. Nikola announces that he is departing for America and although some part of Helen is sorry to see him leave, she thinks it for the better with the upcoming wedding.

James takes a position at the Royal London Hospital in Whitechapel. Helen and John speak of moving to the area after they are wed, which will hopefully be soon, though propriety advises an engagement of at least a year and Helen would rather marry in the summer months. Another year hardly matters, when they have both waited so long. John is not overly fond of London, however, and suggests perhaps they look further afield, somewhere where he might put his previous skills as a barrister to use. Helen cares little, so long as she is able to continue her own work, even if it is within the confines of her own house. At least for a time, that may do. Her father has spoken in his letters in recent years of the idea of a safe house for the Abnormals he assists. Their own house in London is by no means large enough for it, but there is property enough for sale in the city, if one cares little for the state of it. It seems to Helen a marvellous idea and something that she may wish to pursue at some point, after she and John have had some years together. They deserve that much.

In late Autumn, John surprises her with the purchase of a cottage in northern Kent. Not so far as to make travel to London arduous, at least by regular means, but near a town in need of a barrister. It is not an overly large cottage, but it will suit their needs for the time and Helen is simply joyous to remove herself from the bedsit in Oxford and any possibility of returning to her father's house. They are not yet wed, she and John, and it is not proper that they should live together, but Helen cares very little for what others think now and John even less. They pretend to be husband and wife in public, anyways, and as the leaves turn and fall and winter approaches no one in the town of Sevenoaks seems any the wiser. In the spring Helen begins serious planning of the wedding, but continues to find reason to put it off. The town believes the barrister and his eccentric wife to be well and truly married, and Gregory holds no such notions about marriage certificates, and James simply doesn't care. There is no one else that needs worrying about and so the spring passes in summer without a ceremony and Helen decides she doesn't care. John announces in August that he is going to London for a few days to inquire as to work. Helen does not understand why, except that the small cottage in the quiet village is unlike anything either of them has known and that John has perhaps bored himself already. Helen finds it pleasant enough, but she is also not adverse to the idea of returning to London. There would be friends, few as they are, there and her father as well and perhaps the Sanctuary, as her father's letters have taken to calling it. He has found an old manor house, in some disrepair in the southwest of the city that will suit and he has been busy organising the renovations needed and gathering what staff he might from his many travels. He and Helen are not the only scientists in the world who focus on Abnormals, but they are few and far between and such an undertaking will take time.

When John returns from his trip he seems suddenly distant from her. The feeling does not last long and things quickly return to normal, but he promises nothing is amiss and Helen cannot help but wonder otherwise. John has not been prone to hopping places without her knowing about it, at least after the first short while before he shared his secret with her. Suddenly, however, she finds that he has disappeared at the strangest times and misses work more than once. In a small town such things do not go unnoticed and it is not the sort of attention Helen wants to attract. After the third night in which he vanishes after they have retired for the evening and she wakes in the middle of the night to find him gone, Helen becomes worried. Perhaps he is taking ill again or something else has developed. She confronts him about it in the morning, and for the first time she can honestly saying he is lying directly to her. And she does not know why. He begins to act different as well and his temper, which has always been quick to fray, but never with her, breaks more often than not. Helen worries, because she is good at that and because she nearly lost him once and does not wish to do so again. There are no physical signs that he has taken ill again, simply the personality change, and that worries her even more because she does not know what to do or how to help. The mind is not her area of expertise.

She writes to James, who admits in his letter to seeing John in London in early September, on a day she knows he should have been at work but was not, and he agrees that something is wrong but not what. It is not until the season changes to Autumn in late September that Helen awakens one night before dawn when John crawls back into bed with her. She knows he has been gone again, but tonight she can smell liquor on his breath and smoke in his hair and something else, a smell she knows too well from her work; the scent of blood.

In the morning there are no stains on the bed sheets and she is left to wonder. John is in a particularly horrid mood that morning. But Helen will not allow any man of her acquaintance to lie outright to her and she is worried enough that perhaps he has taken up a drinking habit or worse that she confronts him. He manages - barely – to stop from striking her, but Helen has had enough. By the afternoon she is in London, only to find her father away. James, however, is more than willing to lend an ear. He spends half his time at the new Sanctuary besides and he is her oldest friend. He listens and comforts in his own way and tells her about his work to take her mind off of it. His work, lately, is less than pleasant, with the murders in Whitechapel a prime area of topic. James has been involved in the investigation; one of many, many doctors and investigators assigned to the case. James is in the middle of explaining that there have been murders as far as Edinburgh in the last month, but that the police are ignoring the evidence because no man being could travel back and forth so much with the current transportation system. Especially since some murders happened within hours or a day of each other. The murder the night before is the most gruesome, James explains to her. Helen is listening out of politeness and distraction, though it is really the last topic she wishes to hear. James finally leaves to his work, assured that she is in somewhat better spirits then when she arrived, and promising to return to the Sanctuary for supper.

Helen is left to wander the still empty halls; there are only a few Abnormals in residence and just as few staff. James introduced them when she first arrived, but they have happily ignored her for the afternoon, though in a way that shows they are dedicated to their job and would prefer to be left to their work. Helen finds the library in the late afternoon. It is already full of books, many of which she recognises from her father's collection at home. On the study table, clearly her father's work space, is the day's paper, the front headline of which read 'Another Murder in Whitechapel' in bold type. Helen can't stop herself from reading the article, gory as it is. It is just as James had said. And if the other city murders were to be related, there was some sort of murderous group of villains on the loose, preying on unfortunate women, whatever their circumstances in life. It was an awful thing to consider.

James returns not much later, which at least saves Helen from her ponderings. He is happy to find a spare room for her to remain, unwilling as she is to return to an empty house while her father is away and quite a bit more unwilling to return to Kent at any point. If John wishes to see her he might come to enquire as to her forgiveness, though she is little inclined to give it at that moment. Helen will not tolerate a man prone to violence and what she cannot understand is that John had never been such.

James and she consult on the matter into the night and conclude that John will need to be contacted and tests run once more to determine if this is some sort of unfortunate side effect of the blood again. John, however, proves rather difficult to find for the next few days. Apparently he has been avoiding Helen, worried as to what she might do when they next speak, but at the end of the week he appears at the Sanctuary in quite a state. He looks as if he had not slept in days when Helen opens to door to admit him. James has already left for work at the hospital, but there are other staff about and Helen feels safe enough to admit him into the entry way. He is in a right state to be sure and her heart involuntarily softens a step at that.

'Helen', he urges in the same voice that usual brings her to her knees. No, she refuses to accept anything from him except an apology. Then they would speak of what would happen next.

'I will have an apology from you, John Druitt, before aught else. I will not tolerate a man who cares to strike at me, nor one who lies about his whereabouts at all hours of the day and night.'

He looks remorseful at that, at least. 'I fear, Helen, that it is worse than you know. Still,' he sighs as if in great effort. 'You have the apology, at the least for raising my hand to you. I do not condone such actions and I will forever live with the knowledge of what I nearly did. I did lie to you, I could not think how to...I have not been well,' he sighs again and now Helen realises that it is a noise of pain.

'John, please, come into the drawing room. You are certainly not well, I agree. I will call James back from the hospital if you would prefer, but there are some tests we must administer, to see what is happening. I fear this is the blood all over again.'

'I think so, yes,' he breaths but does not come at her motion. 'I think, Helen that I had best leave you for now.'

'John, let me help you,' she reaches to him and he recoils immediately.

'No, I think I had best go,' he repeats and before she can say another word he disappears out the door, hurrying down the drive to the road before she can so much as shout after him.

James finds her still weeping when he returns that evening, suitably unimpressed with his inability to have solved the murder cases yet. He has come to dearly rely on his increased intellect since the blood injection, and for the first time it is failing him.

'What has he down now?' is the first question passed his lips when he finds Helen in the library.

'Oh, James, I fear the worst,' she says and surrenders to his arms. He is slightly put out by this, not used to dealing with crying women and especially a weeping Helen. Once she has cried herself out and straightened her appearance somewhat, accepting the handkerchief he offers, he promises they will uncover the truth and do whatever they can in the matter to help John.

Reports the next day that came by telegraph from Manchester announce a double murder of two prostitutes, brutally killed and disembowelled. Helen begins to fear the worst is still to come, but James has not made the connection, and certainly he is more likely to uncover the killer or killers than she. Helen clings to that faint hope a few days more, until she has compiled the reports from all of the murders, back to the beginning of August and uncovered seven distinct cases, all remarkably similar, though only two of which are in London and all on nights, at least until mid-September, where John has been absent from the house in Kent.

And with the two the night after he had turned up on the Sanctuary threshold, Helen is in no doubt as to who is committing the murders. How James does not see it she does not know and Helen cannot bear the thought of telling him. They are friends, he and John, and to learn that the man he has most hunted is almost as a brother to him...Helen cannot do so, not until she has confronted John first.

Whitechapel is not an overly large place, in the grand scheme of London. It is not a place suitable for a single lady of standing to be, even in daylight, but Helen uses the excuse of visiting James at the hospital to convince the carriage driver to take her there. He may drop her in front of the hospital, but Helen does not remain there. She has a notion that John must be hiding somewhere in the borough, otherwise there would be little reason for him to have returned here for the second murder the night before she had left Kent. Some inquiries into the right and wrong places yield that a man matching John's description has been seen on more than one night in the last few months and that the prostitutes, when Helen can bring herself to talk to them, are indeed aware of 'Mr. Druitt'. Clearly he is frequenting the area, as well as others in other cities. Helen is shocked to the core even further than the idea that her fiancé is murdering, but that he has also been with other women, and brothel women, behind her back.

It takes some days of searching, in the hours when James is gone from the Sanctuary and she is certain he will not return and catch her, before she comes near to finding John. On an afternoon at the end of the month one of the loitering women says she's seen him but an hour before, gone off with 'Jane' and gives her a vague location three streets over. John is no longer there, but Jane is, though quite put out to find the missus is looking for him. She is eager enough with information for a coin, however, and Helen learns that John can be found every few days with one of the women in Whitechapel.

That night Helen takes advantage of James being called to the hospital for an emergency and takes a carriage to Whitechapel to prowl the alleyways. It is not the safe thing to do, but it is necessary. She is well dressed, though not expensively and carries little money with her. And she has James' revolver tucked in the pocket of her skirts just in case. She has no notion of what she will do when she finally finds John, only that she needs to find him. There is a reason why this is happening now; either the vampire blood is turning against him as it had Nikola or something in her own blood that has affected his is changing him. In either case, this whole affair is very much Helen's responsibility. She cannot give this to James to do. Nor the police, even; it must be her that ends it, for John's sake and the love she still bears him. And also the child she is certain is growing inside of her. She has not been certain; there is little noticeable evidence, except that she has missed her last cycle and has for the last week been feeling somewhat off in colour. Both could be accounted for through the worry over John, but Helen has never suffered from either womanly complaint in all her adult years. She would have thought she was well passed such an age as to worry about such things, but apparently not. She will need confirmation, of course and James can easily give that to her, but not yet. She needs to deal with John first, and then she will worry about their child, if there is one to worry about.

Two more days pass before she finds him. It is just passed the turn of the clock on the last night of the month when one of the women on the corner of Church remarks to her that she's seen 'Mr. Druitt' about not long before. Helen thanks her and moves on; haunting the alleyways and streets of Whitechapel, the very last place a woman should be alone.

She glimpses him suddenly. He is headed north up Osborn and she follows as silently as she can. He seems uninterested in his surroundings and the few other men about at this time of night in this area of London. He turns off at a side street further up and Helen follows, keeping to the shadows. There's the click of heels on stone in the distance and a woman greets two men further down the street before heading towards her. John has stepped to the side, into his own shadows as if to hide from her but as she draws level he steps out to surprise her. She is indeed surprised, but also well acquainted with him and Helen suppresses a shudder.

He is going to kill her, right here in front of Helen's eyes and she cannot allow that to happen. She draws the revolver stolen from James and steps into the light. 'John, this ends here.'

He is less surprised to see her than she might have wished. But he is not the man she knows; this one is confident of his position and demeaning as well, and plain hurtful. It is not John.

Helen only wants to make certain the girl is able to leave with her body intact, but John has other plans and Helen stands there; she wants to fire, wants to end this and she simply cannot bring herself to now that it has come to it.

'Your power is driving you mad John. I can help.'

John looks almost saddened. 'My power is all I have left.' And perhaps he is right.

She raises the revolver, preparing herself to end it. 'Let her go,' she demands one more time, because she must.

'As the lady wishes,' he smiles and it is over so quickly Helen can only stand shaking for a moment, knowing she has missed her one chance to stop him. And now there is another murder to add to her conscience.

James is pacing the parlour wrought with worry when she returns near dawn.

'Helen, wherever have you been?'

'I found him, James, and I sincerely wish I had not.'

He comes to her and takes her by the arms, forcing her to look at him. 'What has happened, Helen?'

'Have you not figured it out yet, James?' she asks, with a laugh barely concealing hysteria.

'What? The murders; is that what you speak of?'

The tears are already forming in her eyes, threatening to run down her face. 'Yes, the murders, James! How have you not realised that it's John?'

His eyes go wide in shock and then in understanding and then narrow in hatred at himself and at John. Helen rides the wave of emotion with him, too exhausted to think or act or speak.

'You went after him tonight, didn't you? Helen, of all the...' he trails off as he looks at her again. 'Of course, forgive me. Did you find him?' This last is asked almost hesitantly.

'Yes. He...oh God, James, he's gone. He's not John anymore. And he killed...they've already found the body; I was nearly caught at the scene myself. And James –' she stops suddenly, realising that what she is about to tell him is too much. He has had the shock of a lifetime tonight and he does not need this as well, but she cannot contain herself any longer, not after the events of the night.

'I'm with child, James.'

He sighs heavily, though she cannot pinpoint the emotion. 'Oh, Helen,' he whispers and draws her close as he has never done before. The betrayal runs deep in both of them and Helen is desperate for comfort. There is no one else to give it and a small part of her is quite glad that James is able.

After a time he draws back. 'You must rest; the stress of the night is the last thing you need. To bed, immediately. I must contact the police at once.'

'James,' she stops him. 'It's too late tonight. In the morning, but there will be little help in it. He will not be caught again.'

'I suppose not, but they must be made aware. It will wait until sunrise. You must rest now, though, for your own sake if not for the child's.' Helen nods silently and allows him to lead her upstairs to her room. She allows him to undress her down to her underclothes, removing the tight corset that she has left looser than she normally would, just in case. There is nothing more than clinical detachment in his movements. 'Rest,' he pleads with her as he tucks her into bed and leaves her. Through the dark curtains of her bedroom window Helen can just see the first trace of dawn.

The days that follow pass in a blur. Helen hides herself away in the Sanctuary while James deals with the police and the questions, though they both know it is something of a lost cause. Even were they to corner John in an alley, he could escape easily enough. The news of the second murder that night is of no surprise to either of them. The days pass and then the weeks and no other word is heard, either in London or without of another case. Helen allows herself a small sigh of relief that that means it may be over. She begins to contemplate her own future and the child within her. James has already declared he will support whatever decision she makes, but she hasn't made one yet, though she knows time is running out. It has been more than a month now, at the least.

It is the middle of October, and there is a lull, both in the investigation and in the imminent return of Helen's father, by which she receives word. She concludes that there is no more time to be wasted on considering. But as she could not aim the gun closer than John's arm, nor can she bear the thought of killing this child. It is as much a part of her as John and there is always the very real chance the child will be touched by neither of their abnormalities.

She explains all of this to James, who is supportive as always. 'You understand, then, what you ask?' he inquires at the end.

Helen is well aware of what it will take to keep the child but not bring it to term, not now at least. The procedure might very well result in the embryo's death anyways, if not hers should something go wrong, but she wants this or maybe even needs this, and so James agrees.

When her father returns a week later the Sanctuary is running as normal, Helen is recovered, if not emotionally, at least physically, and Gregory is none the wiser, at least on that subject. Helen must painstakingly reiterate everything to him that has happened in the last months while Gregory listens quietly. At the end he simply takes her in his arms and holds her as he used to do when she was young and her mother was still alive.

The murder in November throws Helen once more sideways, but her father remains at the Sanctuary and James is ever nearby if needed. She learns, slowly, to adjust and to throw herself into the work her father's creation allows. Gregory is more than pleased to allow his daughter and James to assist in running the new haven and expanding it as they will. It is work they feel they can all be proud of.

On a night when Gregory is absent and she and James are enjoying a relaxing talk in the library, Adam Worth walks back into their lives, unexpectedly and very unwelcome. He is the memory of another time and place and not ones that Helen wishes to dwell on. But what he asks is sincere enough and tugs at the emotions she has buried since she made her decision about the pregnancy. But her emotions run even deeper when she realises they cannot help. She tries, because she cannot help herself, despite James assertions that they should leave, but in the end she fails. It is a hard blow to swallow after everything that has happened. She goes over the results for days afterwards, convinced they missed something. James worries for her mental state at first, but eventually she admits her defeat and resumes her own study and work which can only wait so long.

In 1892 in Mecca, on one of his many missions to track Abnormal sightings, Gregory fails to return on schedule. At first Helen simply believes that there has been a delay or he has gone off somewhere else on another lead, but months pass and he does not return. Helen and James are left to take up – formally – the running of the Sanctuary. At first it seems a daunting task until James reminds her that they have basically been doing exactly that for the last few years. It is work that Helen finds herself passionate about. It is what her father always hoped to do when she was younger and worked at his side and now she can continue on, whether he returns or not. His disappearance is unaccounted and for many years it bothers her. She finds letters hidden away in his desk behind a panel and discovers things she never knew about her father, his research and others that were perhaps more interested in such things than they should be. It worries hers and for a long time she believes that her father's disappearance was orchestrated, by himself or someone else. The stirrings of such things as the Cabal may be of real concern one day, or even now if they are behind her father's absence, but short of following his road to Mecca and beyond, she has no way to find him or find out what happened to him. She honestly doesn't believe he is dead.

There are more pressing concerns in the world and in the Sanctuary. It is thriving now with dozens of Abnormals in residence and more arriving every month. There is staff to look after and money to be made to care for it all. It is a daily struggle and allows little time for worrying or stray thoughts on things that Helen has no control over. But she finds one day, near the end of the century, that she may not only be content with her life, but happy in it as well. It is too soon to put those days at Oxford behind her and it will be much longer before she can look back on her life with John without the nightmares that have plagued her since that night in the alley. There are people who need her and work that is useful and these are things enough for her to be getting on with, for the time being. She has not aged since the blood injection changed her at a cellular level and so far as she or James can figure, she has all the time in the world ahead of her and many lives to lead.